Grandma Wynn glanced at the fine things laid out in the room, curled her lips with disdain, and snapped, "Don't think buying me a few worthless trinkets can make up for your scandal! You may not feel ashamed, but I do! Tomorrow, your uncle's family is coming to propose marriage. If you dare to stir up trouble, don't bother stepping foot in this house again. The Wynn family can't afford to lose face like that!"
Elara had long grown tired of her grandmother's constant scolding, but she hadn't come back today to argue. She had a purpose to fulfill.
Taking a steady breath, Elara said calmly, "Grandma, I came back today to talk about my marriage. These gifts were brought by my fiancé to honor you. The man who delivered them just now was his driver."
Her words had the effect of both igniting Grandma Wynn's anger and extinguishing it in one breath.
A fiancé who could afford such lavish gifts—and even had a driver—was obviously leagues richer than Archer Lang had ever been.
Grandma Wynn's expression shifted, her calculating gaze lingering on the expensive presents as she weighed her options.
"This child does seem thoughtful," she said, voice suddenly softer. "But marriage isn't something to be discussed lightly. Both families' parents should be present. What kind of man sends gifts but doesn't show his face?"
"I came home first to talk to my family," Elara replied, lowering her eyes. "He'll come to meet you soon."
Isabella Wynn, who had been standing nearby the whole time, couldn't help but interrupt with a sneer. "This man seems very generous, huh? Elara, not bad—you really struck gold all of a sudden. I wonder, is this future brother-in-law the bald one or the flat-nosed one?"
"You'll see when he comes to propose marriage," Elara answered coldly.
Although Jack wasn't inside the house, he heard every word. He reported the entire exchange to Damien.
Reading the message, Damien's gaze darkened. He picked up his phone and called Jack, listening in silence as the situation inside the Wynn household unfolded.
Back at the house, Isabella's face twisted with frustration at Elara's composed response.
"Grandma," she whined, "if Elara is getting married, then I want to get married too! Besides, I was first! My fiancé is coming to propose tomorrow—you promised me I'd go first! That dowry was prepared for me, not for her!"
She clung to Grandma Wynn's arm like a child begging for candy, afraid Elara might steal the limelight—or worse, her dowry.
Grandma, ever biased, turned to Elara and said sternly, "Elara, since your fiancé is wealthy, he shouldn't care about this little dowry. Be a good sister—don't fight your cousin over this. Your uncle and aunt saved that dowry for years. Your own parents couldn't provide anything, so if you want gifts, ask the man to offer more."
Elara's lips curled into a silent, bitter smile. She replied smoothly, "I never intended to take anything from Isabella."
And she meant it. She had no interest in anything this family could give.
"Good," Grandma Wynn nodded in satisfaction. "Isabella's in-laws are coming tomorrow. Since you have nothing else to do, help your mother prepare. If everything goes well, maybe you'll marry decently too. Isabella never did any chores growing up—she's not suited for this sort of thing. As her older sister, you should help her out."
The truth was, Grandma Wynn had never once intended to give Elara a single cent of that dowry. How could a child they picked up be worthy of their money?
She didn't care if Elara's future husband was handsome or hideous, so long as he paid a hefty bride price.
Elara's heart went cold. Could she really walk away that easily?
This family… they were leeches, every one of them. They would never stop squeezing her and her mother dry.
Meanwhile, Jack continued to report every detail to Damien. Damien sat quietly, swirling the wine in his glass before saying, "How can the future lady of the Rourke family appear more humble than others? Make sure the visit tomorrow is done with style and impact. Let them see what real prestige looks like."
—
The next morning, even before the sun had risen, Grandma Wynn roused Elara and her mother to clean the yard and prepare for the guests.
Without complaint, Elara washed her face with cold water and joined her mother in doing chores.
If she didn't help, everything would fall on her mother's shoulders.
Not a single other family member lifted a finger to help, even though the guests were coming for Isabella's engagement. Uncle and aunt didn't bother getting up early or contributing anything.
If the event went well, the glory would be theirs.
If anything went wrong, they'd place the blame squarely on Elara's mother.
Elara had seen through this family long ago. If not for her mother's attachment to them, she would've dragged her away from this toxic place already.
Just as she set the mop aside, the sharp crack of firecrackers exploded outside.
They were welcoming the in-laws with loud fanfare, as though broadcasting the engagement to the entire neighborhood.
Grandma rushed out like a gust of wind, turned to Elara, and barked, "Why are you just standing there? Go greet the guests! If you mess this up, don't bother showing your face here again!"
Elara didn't bother taking a break. The moment she heard the commotion, she rushed toward the door.
Parked boldly across the entrance was a black Santana 2000, blocking the gate of the Wynn residence like it owned the place.
Elara frowned. The way it blocked the pathway made it difficult for anyone to pass through. But before she could say anything, the driver suddenly revved the engine, clearly trying to draw attention.
Seriously? Showing off with a Santana 2000?
In her company, no one would even consider driving anything under 200,000 yuan. Some of her coworkers would outright scoff—if your car cost less than that, you didn't deserve to work for the Rourke Corporation.
Then, the driver door opened and out stepped a lanky guy, dressed in cheap streetwear that probably didn't add up to 300 yuan. He turned to speak arrogantly to his mother, a round woman waddling behind him like a ball.
"This is Isabella's place, right? Hey, Mom, are we really giving a bride price of 30,000 yuan?"
The woman beamed and waved her hand dismissively. "Thirty thousand is plenty! Times are hard! Don't worry about how much we give, it's coming back to us anyway. And since we're giving a bride price, they'd better bring a dowry too!"
What a calculation.
They hadn't even married into the family yet and already they were counting profits.
Elara stepped forward with a polite smile, ignoring the unpleasant tone. "Hello, Auntie. I'm Isabella's elder sister. Grandma asked me to welcome you. This way, please."
The round woman snorted in response and walked straight in without acknowledging her. The boy, however, paused and gave Elara a long, thoughtful glance.
She didn't return it. Instead, she turned and led them inside.
The moment they stepped through the door, Elara was promptly pushed aside by her uncle and aunt, rendered invisible.
Her grandmother, along with the rest of the elders, fawned over the guests, barking orders at Elara's mother to pour tea like she was hired help.
Elara watched the scene unfold, heart aching for her mother. Before her mother could move, she quietly stepped in and handled everything herself.
When the boy's family smugly announced their bride price of 30,000, Isabella threw a prideful glance toward Elara.
In their small town, the average dowry was only 10,000 at best—so offering three times that made the proposal seem extravagant.
Elara and her mother remained standing at the side. They weren't even offered a seat, let alone a cup of tea.
No sooner had she served the guests than Isabella's parents ordered her off to the kitchen to help with the meal.
Nervous, Mama Wynn accidentally dropped a teacup. Before she could even apologize, Grandma Wynn snatched the shattered remains and hurled them at her feet, her voice shrill with anger.
"Why must you always ruin things on important days? What sin did our family commit to be cursed with someone like you? You've got no shame, no face—what kind of life are you hoping to have? You think you're capable of giving birth to some rich man's child? What a joke! Look at yourself! Ugly and disgraceful, you finally landed a decent man and what did you do? You went running off like a stray dog and got beaten up. Bringing home a barren hen and a shameless brat! Our family's luck must have been rotten for generations!"
Elara moved fast, pulling her mother to safety just as the teacup smashed to pieces on the ground.
Seeing them dodge her wrath only fueled Grandma Wynn's fury. She grabbed her cane, ready to strike them both.
Suddenly, someone banged furiously on the door.
"Grandma Wynn! Good news! Congratulations to your family!" a voice shouted from outside.
It was the village chief.
The boy puffed up with pride. Clearly, word had spread about their proposal—he figured the entire village had come to celebrate.
See? That's what happens when you drive in style to propose.
Grandma Wynn hurried out and opened the door, smiling wide. "Village Chief! What brings you here?"
The chief was breathless with excitement. He grabbed her arm and exclaimed, "You're blessed, Grandma Wynn! Your granddaughter has caught a fine man! Your family's luck is turning! This is a fortune—must be thanks to your ancestors watching over you!"
Grandma Wynn chuckled, clearly thinking he meant Isabella. "Indeed! We are lucky!"
But the village chief quickly corrected her. "No, no—not Isabella. It's Elara! I saw them myself! So many luxury cars! I've never even seen half of them before. They asked about your family. Said they're here for a marriage proposal!"
What?
Luxury cars? Multiple?
Everyone froze in stunned silence.
Elara's heart skipped a beat. Already? So soon?
And then, in the distance, they saw them—one by one, the world's top luxury vehicles rolled into view.
A Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost led the fleet, followed by Bentleys, Maybachs, Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Paganis, and Aston Martins—all gleaming, all impossibly out of place on their quiet village road.