Fortune’s brow tightened. “It’s not that you don’t know you were wrong—you just want to latch onto the Richards and Gonzales families for your own benefit.”
With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.
No one watching Fortune’s retreating figure could have guessed how much Bonnie regretted her actions in that moment.
She regretted everything.
If she’d known things would turn out this way, she never would have called Fortune an old hag that day. Worse still, she never should have denied knowing her.
Ernest and Iliana’s regret was written all over their faces, a rainbow of emotions flickering as they stared at Fortune’s back. Ernest’s lips trembled, and neither of them could manage a word.
Fortune walked over to the little group waiting nearby. “Catie’s grandmothers, and her uncles—let’s go.”
“Of course,” Keira and Dowager Hannah Richards replied, both nodding.
The whole group swept past Ernest and his family, not sparing a second glance.
Iliana watched them climb into the four stretch limousines parked by the curb, the sting of regret so sharp she thought she might faint.
If only they’d taken Caitlin in back then, it would have been their family sliding into those luxurious cars now.
But they’d let that chance at wealth and status slip right through their fingers.
—
Soon, the four limousines pulled into the run-down complex of Sylvan Court.
Looking around at the dilapidated buildings, Keira and the rest of the Richards family were overcome with pity.
Caitlin’s uncles looked especially miserable.
At first, when they’d heard Caitlin lived in a villa, they’d breathed a sigh of relief. But when they learned she’d only just moved in, and had spent years in a cheap, shabby apartment with Fortune, their hearts broke.
They’d expected the place to be modest, but not this bad.
The princess they’d have protected at all costs, the one they’d have cradled in their palms and never let out of their sight, had lived here all this time.
Keira clutched Caitlin’s hand, tears streaming down her face. “Freya, my sweet girl, you’ve suffered so much—so much more than you should have!”
Hannah was crying too.
“Grandma, Nana, please don’t cry,” Caitlin said, dabbing their tears away. “It really wasn’t that hard. Life with Grandpa wasn’t fancy, but every day was full and happy. And Grandpa always treated me so well.”
Poverty isn’t so terrible; living a simple, honest life is enough.
Caitlin had never been afraid of hardship.
What she truly feared was having family like in her previous life.
Knock, knock, knock—
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Gordon called, not looking up.
Dowager Beatrice Sylvester entered, balancing a platter of fruit. “Gordon, have some fruit.”
“Just set it down, Mom.”
Beatrice gave her son a pointed look. “Still reading this late?”
“Mhm.” Gordon nodded. “I’m studying finance.”
Beatrice glanced at the cover. “Strolling Down Wall Street? Are you sure you’re researching finance and not just reading a romance novel?”
She arched an eyebrow. With a title like Strolling Down Wall Street, was this really about finance?
“Romance novel?” Gordon scoffed. “Why would I read that kind of thing?”
He calmly snapped the book shut and handed it to his mother. “If you don’t believe me, see for yourself.”
If she looked closely, she’d notice a faint sheen of nervous sweat on Gordon’s nose.

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