Chapter 2

"Went along with it?" My voice shook with anger.

"My mom has gout, and Sylvia's making her pay for seafood she can't even eat! She has high blood sugar, and Sylvia's making her pay for cherries she can't even have! Her back is messed up, and Sylvia's making her pay for a rowing machine she can't use!"

"Well, your mom decided to stay at their place!" Alex's voice was even louder than mine. "If she thinks it's too expensive, she can just leave!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"What did you just say?"

"I said if your mom can't stand living there, she should just move out. Stop making a fuss all the time!"

I never realized he'd started taking their side this much.

My mom whispered, "Forget it, don't argue anymore."

"Mom, just take a seat for now," I said, then hung up on Alex without hesitation.

Then I stepped out onto the balcony and called my assistant, Riley Mercer.

"Riley, I need you to check on two people for me."

"Alex Cole and Sylvia Grant," I said, pausing for a second.

"See if they've ever met up one-on-one, or had any interactions outside of work hours. Get it to me ASAP."

After hanging up, I drove straight to the Grant residence.

The door opened, and Sylvia was standing there. The moment she saw me, her smile vanished.

"Shermaine? What brings you here?" she asked, her tone a little uneasy.

I ignored her and walked right in.

Leo was sitting on the couch, sipping his tea. He looked up, surprised to see me.

In the corner of the living room, there was a brand-new rowing machine.

I pointed at the rowing machine and stared at Sylvia. "Explain it to me. What exactly does this split-the-bill thing mean? Do you honestly think my mom can even use this?"

Sylvia gave a smug little smile. "If it's in a shared space, everyone pays their share. That's just how it works. Your mom's living here, so she has to chip in for everything in the house.

"And anyway, it's her own choice not to use it."

"And what about the seafood?" I glared at her. "You know my mom can't touch that stuff because of her gout, don't you?"

She shrugged. "It's a group meal. If your mom doesn't eat, that's on her. Nobody's stopping her."

My voice was trembling. "So she has to pay while just watching you guys eat?"

She laughed. "Your mom's living here, so she's part of the family. What's the big deal about splitting the bill? It's barely anything."

"Barely anything?" I held up my phone. "Then tell me why your prices are twice as high as the official site."

Her smile froze instantly.

"The seafood gift box is 400 dollars on the official site, but you charged her 1,200 dollars. The king crab goes for 300 dollars on the market, but you asked for 900 dollars..."

I said, word by word, "You call this splitting the bill? This is a scam."

Sylvia's voice started to falter. "Mine are imported, totally different quality!"

"Imported?" I scoffed.

"The official site is the brand's flagship store. Where exactly are you getting this so-called 'imported' stuff? And what kind of imported seafood box doesn't even have a label?"

Sylvia's face suddenly twisted, her voice going shrill.

"Your mom's been living here and expects us to pay for everything, so what if she contributes a bit? If she thinks it's too much, she can just move out. And seriously, she's a grown adult who can't even manage her own money.

"Can't she figure out basic math? Can't she check prices herself? She keeps complaining to her daughter about every little thing, like she's helpless!"

"What did you just say?" My voice went cold.

"I said your mom isn't independent!" Sylvia stared right at me, her voice rising.

"She keeps complaining to you about every little thing, making it look like I'm bullying her. She chose to pay, and now she's acting all pitiful. What's the point?"

"100 thousand dollars in just three months, and you think that's no big deal?" I stepped closer.

"Sylvia, how much do you even make in a month? Are you seriously telling me 100 thousand dollars is nothing to you?"

She hesitated, her face flushing red, but she still snapped back. "Doesn't matter how much it is, that's the rule here! Your mom's living in my house, so she has to pay her share!"

My voice shook with anger. "She's your dad's partner, not your housekeeper."

Sylvia sneered. "I'm the one paying for everything, even for my dad. She's living under my roof, so honestly, letting her stay is already a favor. What's the problem with asking her to split the costs?"

I froze, then turned to Leo, searching his face for any reaction.

He sat on the couch, head bowed, silent as a stone.

Alright, I got it. Everyone in this house was just awful.

"From now on," I said, "my mom's not living here anymore."

Sylvia snapped, "Fine, I'm sick of taking care of her anyway."

Leo finally got up in a hurry, looking flustered. "Wait, wait, let's talk about this!"

I stared right at Leo, spelling out each word. "When your daughter was bullying my mom, why didn't you speak up?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"My mom's been living here for three months, and she's lost over twenty pounds. Didn't you even notice?" I shot back.

With that, I turned and headed for the door.