Chapter Eleven

FLORA’S POV

    One thing about the Kensingtons—they believed money could buy anything. I had heard Lisette say it countless times: Everything and everyone has a price, if you know the right one. It was one of her many reasons for treating me like a temporary accessory rather than her son’s wife. To her, I wasn’t Flora, a person with feelings—I was a commodity her family had “purchased.” They never accepted that I had married Jayden for love. From day one, they had slapped the “gold digger” label on me. That’s why they never saw the divorce coming.

As Lisette stood there with her two bodyguards, one of them holding a briefcase like we were in the middle of a corporate meeting, I exchanged glances with Sasha and Mom. What “deal” was she planning to offer? Curiosity got the better of me, so I gave Mom and Sasha a subtle look, telling them to stay calm. Then, I moved to the couch and sat down, facing Lisette.

“Alright, let’s hear what you’ve got,” I said, trying to sound more casual than I felt.

Mom’s eyes went wide, like I had just volunteered for some dangerous experiment. She probably thought I was crazy for even entertaining anything that came out of Lisette’s mouth after everything that had happened. Lisette, of course, smirked, pleased to have the floor. She gracefully took the seat opposite me, smoothing down her designer skirt like she was above it all.

“Before I begin,” she said, her tone dripping with fake sympathy, “let me express my condolences for the loss of your pregnancy. But…” She paused, savoring the moment. “You stole from me, and I intend to press charges.”

“What?” my mother blurted, her confusion palpable. She shot me a look, then glared at Lisette.

“You know I never took your necklaces,” I said firmly.

Lisette leaned back, clearly enjoying the power trip. “That’s not what the authorities will think when I report this to the police. Those necklaces were found in your suitcase, Flora, while you were planning to escape from the estate.”

It was then I realized what she was playing at. This woman was pure evil, and I couldn’t believe I had survived three years under her roof.

“Everyone will believe you’re nothing more than a gold digger,” she continued, her eyes gleaming. “You’ve been waiting for the right moment to run off with my most expensive jewelry since the day you married into the family.”

I felt a surge of rage bubble up inside me. “You can’t do that!” I snapped.

“Oh, but I can,” Lisette said, lowering her voice to a sinister whisper, clearly savoring every moment. “It’s your word against mine. Who do you think people will believe? Lisette Kensington, a well-respected businesswoman from a prestigious family, or a nobody from a... let’s call it ‘financially challenged’ background? You have every reason to steal from me, and I have every reason to press charges.”

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my anger from spilling over. “Ms. Kensington, if this is your twisted way of trying to force me back to Jayden, let me make it clear—I’m never going back to him.”

Lisette scoffed, flicking her hand dismissively. “Don’t flatter yourself, Flora. You’re far below average. Fat, plain, not even close to being worthy of Jayden. Melissa Pembroke, on the other hand? Now that’s a suitable wife. Rich, classy—rich marrying rich, as it should be.”

Her words stung, but I didn’t let her see that. I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I hadn’t noticed Mom quietly slipping out of the room. She probably had something brewing—and if I knew her, it wasn’t tea.

“Good riddance,” Lisette continued, clearly enjoying her monologue. “I don’t care about your divorce. What I do care about is making sure you don’t drag Kensington’s name through the mud. So, here’s the deal: you keep your mouth shut. Don’t talk about the divorce, don’t mention Jayden cheating, and certainly don’t bring up that lost pregnancy. If anyone asks, you tell them Jayden left you because he didn’t want you anymore, plain and simple. And in return, I won’t press charges for the theft of my jewelry.”

She waved her hand, and one of the bodyguards stepped forward, opening the briefcase like we were in some bad mafia movie. He handed Lisette the necklaces and a neat stack of papers.

“Here,” she said, holding up the necklaces one by one. “This diamond piece is worth $50 million. Custom-made, one-of-a-kind, with rare stones. It could change your life forever.” She held it out, almost taunting me with its sparkle before raising the second necklace. “This gold necklace, also bespoke, with my initials engraved and hand-selected gemstones—$10 million. All you have to do is sign this paper, and everything will be sorted out. No more drama, no police, just a clean break.”

She pushed the pen toward me, that smug smile still on her face, as if she had just solved all my problems with her blood money.

I chuckled, taking the sheet of paper from Lisette’s perfectly manicured hand and giving it a quick scan. It was the typical Kensington deal—fancy words, lots of conditions, and the promise of hush money. After a second, I glanced back up at her, locking eyes as I calmly tore the agreement into neat little shreds.

“Trek to hell and burn to ashes, Lisette Kensington,” I said, my voice laced with calm fury. “Actually, scratch that—get the hell out of my house!”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t skip a beat. “Five million dollars! I’ll throw in an extra five million.”

Before I could even form a response, the living room door flew open and in stormed my mother, bucket in hand. For a split second, I thought she might be about to throw some nice, clean water at Lisette. But oh no, my mom had other plans.

Without warning, she emptied the bucket’s contents over Lisette’s pristine, designer-clad head. The foul, funky smell of hominy water filled the room almost instantly, and my love for my mother skyrocketed.

The look on Lisette’s face? Priceless. She sat there, drenched and completely frozen, her brain clearly trying to catch up with what had just happened.

“Get the hell out of my house!” my mother roared, standing tall like some kind of righteous warrior queen. “Take your stupid deal and manipulations with you!”

Lisette let out a shriek so loud, I was pretty sure it could be heard all the way across Rockshire. She shot up from the chair, still screaming, her arms flailing as if she could somehow shake off the stench by sheer force of will.

One of her bodyguards moved forward, as if he were about to step in, but Sasha and I jumped to our feet, instantly positioning ourselves between him and Mom. He paused, clearly realizing that this was a fight he was not about to win.

Lisette, meanwhile, was in full meltdown mode. She turned on the bodyguard like a wild animal, clawing at his hair. “You useless zombie!” she screeched. “Get me out of here! I’m dying! I swear, I’m dying!”

The poor guy backed off, retreating quickly as he grabbed Lizette by the arm and steered her toward the exit. She was still shrieking, a trail of water and humiliation following her.

“My jewelry!” she suddenly screeched, turning back toward the room. “Do you idiots plan on leaving my precious necklaces?!”

The second bodyguard, clearly not wanting to risk another earful, dashed back in, scooping up the necklaces while Sasha, Mom, and I stood there, watching the ridiculous drama unfold. Sasha, never one to waste an opportunity, bent down and gathered up the torn pieces of the agreement, shoving them into the briefcase. The bodyguard shot her a glare, but he wasn’t about to challenge her either. He snapped the briefcase shut and hightailed it out of the room as if the devil himself were chasing him.

The moment they were all out of the house, we exchanged glances—and then the laughter came. We laughed so hard, we could barely stand.

“Serves her right,” Sasha said breathlessly once the giggles had subsided.

I turned to Mom, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. “Good job, Mom,” I said, still grinning. “That was incredible.”

Mom hugged me back, patting my shoulder. “I should’ve done that the first time she darkened our door,” she replied, with a proud smile as Sasha joined the group hug.

I buried my face in Mom’s shoulder for a moment, suddenly feeling a wave of emotion wash over me. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I didn’t steal the necklaces she accused me of.”

Mom pulled back slightly, her eyes warm and firm. “Of course, you didn’t. I didn’t give birth to a petty thief,” she said matter-of-factly, giving me a reassuring squeeze.