A crackle of static hissed through the connection, and then a voice bubbled up from the other end—bright, affectionate, playful.
"Big brother! Didn't you say you were coming back to Harbor City today?"
"I figured you'd be tired, so I brought people to pick you up. Pretty thoughtful of me, right? Where are you?"
I drew a slow breath and kept my voice even.
"I've been detained. She betrayed me. She's trying to force me to be her lover's pet."
"The Delgado Family Code—every kindness repaid, every wrong avenged. You don't need me to tell you what to do."
Silence hung in the air for a single heartbeat.
When Gwendolen Delgado spoke again, every trace of that bubbly warmth was gone. Her voice was ice wrapped around a blade.
"Send me your location. I'm on my way. That piece of filth is dead."
Yolanda had me dragged before Nathan, her tone dripping with tenderness—though none of it was meant for me.
"Nathan, darling, Clement is your personal pet today. You can make him do whatever you want."
"Wow, I always knew Ms. Morton spoiled me the most!" Nathan planted a gleeful kiss on her cheek.
Then his gaze dropped to the wooden sign hanging from my chest, and he burst out laughing.
"So that's why Clement didn't like yesterday's sign made from a beer bottle—turns out he prefers this kind. A born glutton for punishment."
He cocked his head, grinning wider.
"But I've never seen a dog standing in front of its master before. Looks like someone needs to learn some manners first."
The words had barely left his mouth before Yolanda flicked a glance at the bodyguards.
A boot slammed into the backs of my knees.
I crashed to the floor with a dull, heavy thud, pain shooting up through both legs. The entire room erupted in laughter.
I tried to push myself up, but hands clamped down on my shoulders and pinned me in place.
Nathan sauntered over, swaggering with every step, and slapped my face—hard, twice.
"That's better. Dogs should look like dogs."
"Good boy. Are you hungry? Your master prepared something delicious for you."
He snapped his fingers, and someone brought over a trash can from the banquet table. Inside were chicken bones he'd just finished gnawing on, tossed in a heap.
And beneath them—the vomit of some lightweight guest who'd barely managed half a glass before getting sick.
Nathan leaned in close, his lips nearly brushing my ear, his voice a low, taunting whisper.
"You worthless piece of trash. You were so full of yourself yesterday, weren't you? Too bad the one picking through garbage now is you."
So that was what this was about. He was getting back at me for what I'd said the day before.
I lifted my gaze to Yolanda. My voice stayed level.
"Is this what you want too?"
Something flickered behind her eyes—hesitation, maybe—and her lips parted as if to speak.
But Nathan beat her to it, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.
"Ms. Morton, I'm only doing this to teach him to behave. So he doesn't throw jealous tantrums whenever he pleases, or threaten you with divorce once you're married."
"Besides, you promised you'd stand up for me. Was that all a lie? Fine then—forget it. I'll return the jade token, resign on the spot, and get out of your sight!"
Yolanda pulled him into her arms, soothing him like a wounded child, then turned to me with the cold authority of a command.
"Clement, don't forget what you just promised me. Or do you not want the pendant anymore?"
"Nathan only has your best interests at heart. What successful woman doesn't have a man on the side? As her husband, you need to learn to be generous and accepting. Consider this a test of your character."
"Don't ruin Nathan's birthday. Eat it, and I promise I won't think less of you. After today, you'll be my one and only Mr. Morton."
My fists clenched slowly at my sides. I stared in silence at the woman I had once given my whole heart to.
When the Morton ancestors left behind that pair of jade tokens, they'd said the tokens could serve as protection in ordinary times—and if the family ever hit rock bottom, they could be sold as seed money for a comeback.
But generation after generation, no matter how bitter or desperate things got, not a single Morton had ever parted with them.
Yolanda's ambitions reached the sky. She wanted to build her own empire, but she refused to sell the heirlooms to do it.
