At noon, Ramona’s phone lit up with an unexpected call from Jotham’s mother, Winnie.
“Eulalia’s craving your cooking. I’ve already spoken to Jotham. Come over now!”
With that, Winnie hung up. It wasn’t a request—it was a command.
Ramona was hardly surprised. Ever since Jotham brought her home to the Holt family, Winnie had never once treated her kindly.
It was as if Ramona owed them all something. Every member of the Holt family ordered her around as if it were only natural.
There were housekeepers in the mansion, but Ramona was still expected to come by every week to cook and clean for her in-laws.
Jotham’s sister, now pregnant, insisted she could only eat food prepared by Ramona—nobody else’s cooking would do. So Ramona had to deliver home-cooked meals to her every day.
For two years, Ramona had endured it all without complaint, not wanting to make things difficult for Jotham.
She stared at her phone, a flash of coldness in her eyes, then set it aside and calmly opened her laptop. She scrolled through the company’s current projects, reviewing the plans in detail.
One project, marked in red, was the company’s latest priority—her own brainchild, something she’d spearheaded from inception. The client’s director would only deal with her directly.
After thinking for a moment, Ramona walked over to Jotham’s office and knocked.
But his assistant told her he’d just left, rushing out after a phone call and postponing all his meetings for the afternoon.
Ramona called Jotham’s cell, but when the line picked up, it was Brianna’s voice she heard.
“Ramona? Are you looking for Jotham?”
“Ms. Prescott? Are you two together?”
“Oh, don’t get the wrong idea. We’re at the hospital. Milo took a tumble and hurt his leg. But it’s nothing serious—just a scrape. Jotham’s with him now, picking up a prescription. If you want, I can have him call you back later…”
“No need. Milo comes first. You all take care.”
Ramona didn’t wait for a response before hanging up.
Brianna pursed her lips, clearly annoyed.
That Ramona—could she be any ruder?
She looked up to see Jotham returning with Milo in tow.
“Ramona called for you. I answered. Want to call her back?”
Brianna handed Jotham his phone.
Jotham hesitated, but before he could respond, Milo tugged on his sleeve.
“Dad! My leg hurts!”
Jotham knew Milo was just putting on a show. He pinched Milo’s cheek, smirking, and handed the phone back to Brianna.
When Brianna had first called, Jotham thought something terrible had happened. She’d barely gotten out the words that Milo had fallen down the stairs, and he’d raced to the hospital, Milo’s cries echoing in the background.

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