Chapter 72

Marissa's voice was abruptly swallowed by the sudden rise in Phil's tone.

The words "two hundred thousand" rang sharply in her ears, snapping her back to clarity.

A faint, wry smile curved her lips.

She had been too naive.

How could she expect another person's parents to love her as their own?

Marissa lowered her gaze, concealing the storm behind her eyes. Her lashes trembled faintly before settling, and that faint curve of her mouth hardened into a cold, ironic smile.

She almost laughed. That amount couldn't even begin to cover the crises she had quietly fixed for the Fletcher Group, let alone the lavish gifts she'd sent over the years: Susanna's expensive jewelry, Phil's art pieces, or the designer clothes handpicked for Evelina.

All those gestures of goodwill suddenly felt absurd.

Marissa smiled bitterly at her own foolishness. When she didn't respond, Phil mistook her silence for sulking and tried to sound patient. "Marissa, you know the company's going through tough times right now..."

He was gearing up for another speech when Susanna abruptly cut in.

"Honey!" Her tone was sharp, her patience thin."She's going back to the countryside! She doesn't need all that money. Her real parents should be taking care of her! She's got nothing to do with us anymore!"

To Susanna,parting with two hundred thousand for Marissa was unbearable-especially for someone she now saw as an outsider.

She didn't want to give it.

"Just give her twenty thousand," she huffed. "We've raised her all these years. I'm not even asking her to repay us. Isn't that generous enough?"

Phil, unable to signal her through the phone, tried to smooth things over. "Twenty thousand is toolittle!"

Marissa didn't miss the nuance. He wasn't defending her-he was defending the number. That was all she needed to understand.

No one in that family cared for her.Not really.

"A girl shouldn't be without money," Phil continued,putting on the voice of a kindly father. "Give her the two hundred thousand.Maybe she could start a small business back home. Things may be hard for us, but I can still manage two hundred thousand.Marissa,just take it."

Then, he addressed his wife. "Susanna, don't you have a card with that exact amount? Give it to Marissa."

"Thank you," Marissa replied, her tone polite yet distant. She turned her face slightly, a faint smile touching her lips. "But that won't be necessary."

Instinctively, Susanna clutched her designer bag closer, refusing to meet Marissa's gaze. Her lips twitched before she snapped, "That two hundred thousand was for Evelina's bracelet!"

Her voice was tight with frustration. The very idea of handing that money over to Marissa-money meant for her precious daughter-filled her with outrage.

Phil barked, "Why can't you just do as you're told?"

His voice came through the speaker, distorted and sharp, carrying a chill that made Susanna tense.

Phil was not a patient man at all. His carefully maintained image of refinement usually kept his temper in check, but Susanna-his wife-always knew how to strike that nerve.

Susanna was momentarily thrown off. "Hand the card to Marissa," Phil ordered coldly.

Still dazed, Susanna's hands moved on their own.She pulled the card from her handbag and thrust it out."Here."

When Marissa made no move to take it, Susanna's irritation flared. She stepped forward, intent on pressing it into her hand.

But Marissa quietly took three steps back, her gaze cool and unyielding as it lingered on the card.

"Marissa, just accept the card. Don't take what Susanna said to heart," Phil said, trying to ease the tension from the other end of the line.

Susanna snapped out of her thoughts when she saw Marissa's calm, unreadable face. Her own flushed red, a mix of embarrassment and irritation."|you don't want it, then fine," she said sharply. "I don't want to give you the money either."

Susanna was now seething with rage.

Being scolded by Phil-especially in front of Marissa -felt humiliating.

"I told you not to be so harsh with Marissa." Phil's tone dropped, his voice edged with restrained anger."Why do you always ignore what I say?"

Inside his luxury car, his expression was cold, his patience clearly worn thin. The tension in the air was sharper than the chill from the air conditioner.

The car pulled up in front of the private makeup studio. Phil stepped out, his assistant close behind,carrying a small safe.

The assistant stayed quiet, careful not to rub Phil the wrong way.

He followed carefully, praying the Fletcher family's drama wouldn't spill over onto him.