The Phantom Heiress Rising From The Shadows

Chapter 402:

Brenna raised an eyebrow. “Conscience? Do you even know what that is? I always thought you didn’t have one.”

Ruby let out a cold snort, still looking arrogant. She said, “We raised you for twenty years. We fed you and clothed you. Now that we’re in trouble, you should help us. With the Harper family’s power, getting back the Barrett Group and the house would be easy. Brenna, it’s time you paid us back for what we did for you.”

She narrowed her eyes as she added, “You wouldn’t want to be seen as someone ungrateful, right?”

Mack’s displeasure was evident, his brows knitting into a frown as he took in Brenna’s amusement at the situation. His voice, tinged with sharpness, broke the silence. “Indeed,” he said coldly. “Your current achievements owe everything to the Barrett family’s efforts. We’ve poured years of time and substantial resources into molding you into the person you are today. Now, as the Harper family’s daughter, you are swathed in status and privilege. We’re not asking for grand gestures of repayment. Simply repaying us would suffice.” His words dripped with condescension, more a demand than a request.

Mack continued, “Hurry up! I’m hungry and in dire need of a shower. We’re giving you a chance to settle your debts—serve us some food and provide clean clothes. Where’s the bathroom? Also, clear a few rooms; we’re staying here.”

residence, a stark contrast to the more modest Barrett family home. How did Brenna end up living amidst such luxury, attended by a fleet of servants? How had fortune so favored

her smirk full of arrogance. “Consider this repayment plan a favor. You

faced so much hardship. Bring out whatever delicacies you have—truffles, caviar, Iberian ham. Anything filling will do. And clothes? Something simple yet tasteful, in the low five-figures range should suffice. We can’t remain like this, a sight for sore eyes. Otherwise, we’ll become a

affection. Isabella watched silently from the sidelines, studying Brenna, well

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frustrated by Brenna’s apparent indifference, snapped,

finished? If so,

with nothing—no home, no means to survive. You’re our last hope. And let me remind

her movements charged with icy determination. “Oh, I remember your ‘kindness’ to me,” she replied, her voice sharp as a blade. “All those demands. When I didn’t produce the blueprints you wanted, you let me starve. How many times did I plead while you looked away? Your