Chapter 8

"A minor issue?" Effie let out a soft, mirthless laugh, her eyes laced with sarcasm. "Mitchell, you really think this is nothing? Or do you think I'm just someone you can brush off whenever you please?"

Mitchell's brow furrowed, his tone turning cold and clipped. "Effie, don't push your luck. I'll let this go-just this once. Don't let it happen again."

Effie rose from her seat, meeting his gaze with calm determination. "Mitchell, I'm dead serious."

The tension between them thickened in an instant; it was as if the air itself could catch fire.

Mitchell's fists clenched at his sides, but after a moment, he let out a bitter chuckle and strode toward the door.

"Effie, I hope you think this through."

He tossed the words over his shoulder and left the office without looking back.

The door slammed shut behind him. Effie stood silently for a moment, drawing a deep breath, forcing herself to steady the turmoil inside.

without missing a beat, she turned her attention to her work. Soon she'd hand everything over, sell her shares, and finally

Etheridge Manor

limited-edition Maybach glided up the old cobblestone drive, its sleek, modern lines a stark contrast to the stately brickwork of the historic estate. The car came to a smooth stop in the

the ground, and Lyman,

was watching TV. At the sound of footsteps, she looked up, her face lighting up as she called out in her usual

finally decided to come home! So, did you

66

with resignation. "Mom, that's actually what I wanted to ask you

prefer a nice young man. I don't care who you bring home-man, woman, cat, or dog-just give me

torn between amusement and frustration. "Mom, I assure you, I'm perfectly straight. Can you please

her eyes. "Oh, don't be so uptight! It's the twenty-first century-boy, girl, it's all the same.

tie. "Mom, you don't have to

him a look of pure disbelief. “Yeah, sure. If you're so confident, why don't you bring her home

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