Chapter 72
Chapter 72
55 vouchers
A flicker of unease crossed Kayla’s face, just enough to suggest Tristian had struck a nerve, but she smoothed it over almost instantly. “That’s not true. Dad was the one who changed the terms. I wasn’t scheming. There’s nothing like that.”
The denial only fed Tristian’s certainty. He gave a derisive little laugh. “So Meadowbrook Villa is what you’re really after? Forget it.”
Turning to Jackson, he pressed his point. “Dad, Meadowbrook is worth billions. You can’t even compare it to Sexton Manor. Why should she get something like that?
“If she’s so sentimental about the manor, let her have it. It’s not like she’s cracked the top fifty yet anyway. Who says she’ll win?”
Jackson studied Kayla in silence, his gaze lingering as if trying to read her. Something about her felt off tonight, and for once, he couldn’t quite pin her down.
His instincts whispered that her sudden interest in Sexton Manor wasn’t just nostalgia.
Bailee spoke up softly from the side. “Honey, it’s between the children. Let them settle it themselves. Either way, whether the manor is his or hers, it still belongs to our family, doesn’t it?”
Jackson hesitated, weighing the words. Kayla’s flustered expression unsettled him, but perhaps he really was imagining things.
He thought, ‘Could it be that what she truly wants is Meadowbrook, and Sexton Manor is only an excuse?‘
And in the end, as Tristian had said, there was no guarantee she would win. He saw no reason to get involved.
If by some chance she did succeed, he could always send someone to sweep through Sexton Manor and make sure nothing of value was hidden there.
“Very well,” he said at last. “It’s your business. Handle it yourselves.” He rose to his feet and strode upstairs without another glance.
Bailee lingered, her eyes filled with a mix of worry and resignation, before following him.
The moment their parents were gone, Tristian’s face hardened, dark as a brewing storm. His gaze burned with malice. “Remember our deal, Kayla. When you lose, don’t you dare cry or try to wriggle out of it.”
Kayla shed her earlier nervousness like a discarded cloak. A small, serene smile touched her lips, and her eyes glittered like crescents. “You don’t trust me? Then why don’t we put it in writing?”
She paused deliberately, as if reconsidering. “Never mind. You’re a man of honor, aren’t you? Surely you wouldn’t go back on your word.”
The feigned doubt had exactly the effect she intended. Tristian’s suspicion sharpened, and her hesitation only convinced him she was trying to hide her own fear.
His eyes lit with sudden eagerness. “Of course we’ll put it in writing. That way, you won’t be able to cheat. And if you try, I’ll make sure every student in the school sees it. Let’s see how you show your face then.”
Kayla’s eyes dipped, a sly smile playing at her lips.
She used to think Tristian was something special, molded into brilliance under Jackson’s influence. But the truth was laughable. He was an idiot, and it had taken only a few careless words to lure him in.
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7:42 pm
Chapter 72
12 55 vouchers
Outwardly, she looked reluctant. “If you insist… fine. We’ll put it down on paper. At least this way, I won’t have to worry about you going back on your word either.”
Tristian dismissed her words, convinced she was bluffing.
He quickly scribbled out two copies of an agreement, signed his name, and thrust one at her, anxious to trap her before she could change her mind. “Sign it. Now.”
Kayla took the sheet, scanning every line with painstaking care, unwilling to miss a single clause that might conceal a trap.
Tristian mistook her caution for doubt. He gave a sharp, mocking laugh. “What’s the matter? You wanted a contract, didn’t you? Now you’re scared to sign?
“If you admit defeat now, I’ll let you off easy. Shave your own head, beg me for forgiveness, and I’ll pretend none of this ever happened.”
Kayla refused to let Tristian throw her off. She read the contract line by line, steady and thorough, and only when she was satisfied there were no hidden traps did she lift the pen and sign her name.
She folded her copy neatly, tucking it away with deliberate care before turning back to him with a bright, taunting smile. “Begging for mercy? That’s more your area of expertise than mine. I’ll stay out of it.
“Oh, and one more thing. Make sure you’ve got the deed to Sexton Manor ready. Don’t tempt me to post this little agreement online and let the world know what a deadbeat you really are.”
She waved the paper in front of him for emphasis, her eyes gleaming with the certainty of victory.
The word begging stirred something ugly in Tristian. He could still taste the humiliation of the day Kayla had forced him to shave his head. His gaze darkened, hard and venomous.
‘Kayla, he swore to himself, ‘run your mouth all you like. As long as I’m here, you’ll never have the last word.‘
That night, when the house had fallen silent, Kayla was finishing her assignments and preparing to sleep when a soft knock broke the stillness.
She froze, frowning, her guard snapping up in an instant. Her hand slipped under the pillow, fingers brushing the dagger hidden there.
Her voice came out cool and edged. “Who is it?”
There was a pause, then Bailee’s gentle voice filtered through the door. “Kay, it’s me.”
Kayla exhaled, realizing she had overreacted.
This wasn’t her last life. She wasn’t defenseless anymore, and the house wasn’t yet the kind of place where anyone could barge into her room unchecked.
She withdrew her hand and moved slowly to the door. Peering through the crack and confirming it was her mother, she eased it open. “Mom, it’s late. What’s the matter?”
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