I kept a plaster smile throughout the entire ordeal. No matter what extravagant dish they pointed to, I nodded. Truffles? Abalone? Imported wine?
"Order whatever you like," I said, watching them gorge themselves.
Midway through the meal, Mrs. Whitney finally stopped eating long enough to probe for what she actually cared about.
"So, the company your parents left you—have you finished the paperwork? I heard it's quite substantial. The inheritance must be... significant."
I glanced at Scott. The screenshot I'd sent him earlier showed a bank balance in the tens of thousands—a deliberate lowball. In reality, the liquid assets alone totaled thirty million, not counting the real estate.
"What exactly does this company do?" Mrs. Whitney pressed, grease shining on her lips. "Is it fully yours now?"
I took a delicate bite, masking my disgust as naked greed flared in her eyes.
"It's a tech startup," I lied smoothly. "I have the inheritance rights, yes. But the management... I'm still waiting on the shareholders. I'm thinking of selling some equity to the board. Might be easier to hold a minority stake and live off dividends."
The effect was instantaneous. Scott's parents exchanged looks of pure, predatory hunger.
Mrs. Whitney practically vibrated. "My son is truly blessed to have a girlfriend like you. Sensible and wealthy. You brought your ID, didn't you? Today's an auspicious date. Why don't you two head to the courthouse right now?"
There it was. The Whitney family's strategy to swallow my inheritance whole, laid bare.
I blinked innocently. "Not today, Auntie. I have to rush back to the office after this. My parents' company generates huge profits, and several shareholders are fighting to buy me out. I need to be there for negotiations."
Greed makes people stupid. They wouldn't risk upsetting the golden goose while the money was still being counted.
I finished my meal slowly, watching them mentally spend my fortune. When I was done, I grabbed my purse and stood.
"Uncle, Auntie, I have to run. The board's waiting."
They beamed, practically pushing me out the door to secure "their" fortune. But after closing the private room door, I didn't leave. I slipped into the empty room next door, put on my headphones, and connected to the Bluetooth recorder I'd left under their table.
Their voices came through crystal clear.
"She's actually that rich," Mrs. Whitney marveled. "A company that size... she must have properties, cars, everything. Son, you absolutely have to lock this down."
Scott's voice dripped with arrogance. "Don't worry, Mom. She loves me to death. I could snap my fingers right now, and she'd drop a multi-million dollar meeting just to come back. I have her completely under my thumb."
I scoffed silently.
"Keep things normal with Fanny for now," Mrs. Whitney instructed, her tone dropping to a whisper. "Once you marry Eleanor and get the assets, we're set. Even if Fanny finds out later, or Eleanor finds out about her, who cares? Divorce takes time. If Eleanor tries to leave, we'll squeeze half her property first. Enough for our whole family to live like kings."
"What's a little property settlement?" Scott scoffed. "I want the company. I want to be CEO. That's better than a one-time payout. I want control."
I knew it.
Scott wasn't just a leech—he was a parasite looking to take over the host. Even knowing his true colors, hearing him plot to usurp my parents' legacy made my blood run cold.
He truly never disappointed my lowest expectations.
I waited until sounds of movement indicated they were leaving, retrieved my recorder, then made my way to the exit.
By the time I reached the lobby, the show had started. The Whitneys were surrounded by staff at the front desk.
"Three thousand dollars?!" Scott shrieked, his voice cracking. "What dishes cost three thousand dollars? Are you robbing us?"
