---- Clara blinked. "You're seriously driving this?" "Restaurant owner lent it to me," Aaron said casually. They drove to Crystal Bay Villas. It was still an upscale, gated community, but the security didn't seem especially tight today. The guard took one look at the car, saluted, and waved them in. Clara shot him a sideways glance. Aaron kept his face neutral. "The restaurant guy moonlights here as security. We go way back." Somewhere far away, that restaurant owner sneezed so hard he nearly fell over. Security?! Are you kidding me?! The car stopped outside Building C. Clara stared up at the familiar facade and took a deep breath before stepping out. They walked up to the door. She rang the bell. Owen answered. He looked younger than she remembered. Comfortable. Like someone who ---- had been living easy. When he saw her, he didn't show any surprise or warmth. Just mild disinterest. Like she was a solicitor he hadn't invited. "Clara. You came," he said blandly, as if he'd been expecting her. From inside, a familiar voice rang out, syrupy and sharp: "Who is it?" Clara's stomach twisted. That voice... it was the same woman she'd seen with him at Fortuna Peak. The woman sauntered into view and gave Clara a mocking smile. "Hmph. Knew you'd show up eventually." Owen didn't react. "Come in," he said flatly, then glanced at Aaron standing behind Clara. Aaron stood tall, sharp-featured, calm and unshakable in his perfectly tailored suit. The air around him practically hummed with quiet power. "Who's he?" Owen asked, voice already turning sour. "I'm her legal representative," Aaron said calmly, ---- handing over his business card. Owen didn't even look at it. "So you brought a lawyer. Wow. Really pulling out the big guns, huh?" Without waiting for a response, he disappeared into a room and came back with a document in hand. He slapped it on the table. "No money. Your mom gave up all rights to that house when we divorced," he said coldly. Clara immediately recognized it-it was the old divorce agreement her mother had signed. Aaron picked it up and began flipping through it page by page. Owen leaned back smugly. "Read it all you want. It was drawn up by a professional lawyer. There's nothing in there you can use." "I'm not here for money," Clara said, her voice frosty. "I just want to know the truth. When you divorced Mom, did you already know the house was getting torn down?" Owen didn't even flinch. "Yeah. I knew." ---- Clara's voice trembled. "And the whole lung cancer thing-that was fake too?" Owen nodded. He didn't care anymore. The money was in the bank, the deed was done. What was the point of lying? Clara's chest clenched. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood. "Why? What did Mom ever do to deserve this? She was your wife." Owen suddenly exploded. "What did she do?! She couldn't even give me a son! Just one daughter-and she refused to have another. Kept going on about almost dying giving birth to you. What a joke! Every woman gives birth, she wasn't special." He slammed a fist onto the table. "You think I had it easy those twenty years?! I groveled just to get her to ask her parents for help, but she wouldn't do it! Too proud. Cut ties with them, moved us out here like exiles!" "We were broke for decades. Barely scraped together enough to buy that secondhand ---- apartment. Then she wanted to get another place just to use as your dowry. You think I had anything left to give?! My whole life was spent breaking my back for you two!" Owen was shaking now, his eyes bloodshot and wild. "I asked her to sell the villa. She refused. Said it was her parents' legacy and had to stay in the family. Wouldn't let us live in it, wouldn't let us sell it-and then she turned around and handed it straight to you when you turned eighteen. You think I don't have the right to hate her?" Clara's voice cracked. "And me? What did I ever do wrong?" Owen sneered. "You? You didn't do anything-except look exactly like her. Every time I see your face, I feel sick."