Spencer’s expression turned cold. "You’re mistaken. Not all people in New York know each other.""Bro!" Rowan nudged him. "You just focus on getting your fortune read. Don't get involved in my business."Spencer’s voice was icy. "So, you’re just going to make friends with some commoner?"Scarface, though wary of escalating the conflict, knew exactly where he stood. "By that logic, I, Scarface, shouldn't be here either, huh? Since the Fisher family is so high and mighty."The current position of the Fisher family patriarch meant that they had to avoid drawing too much attention.Spencer understood this. Hearing Scarface's words, he clenched his fist in frustration but softened his tone. "Grandpa Oak, you misunderstand. We’re all the same. I never saw you as an outsider."That was a concession.Scarface let it go at that. "Then I’ll take that as a misunderstanding. You two young masters carry on. I’ll take my niece to look around.""Wait." Amelia’s gaze landed on Rowan’s waist, and she
Master Dawnshade looked at Scarface. “Hey, you’re a veteran in the antique trade. Divination, character interpretation, and object selection all rely on trust. If you don’t believe, then please, feel free to go ahead.”Scarface had already seen through Master Dawnshade. He chuckled carelessly. “Don’t try to pressure me with industry rules. Divination is about mutual consent. Especially in the vintage shop—if both the buyer and seller agree, no one else has a say. Mr. Fisher hasn’t even complained about the price yet, Master Dawnshade, why are you in such a hurry?”“If this deal goes through for my niece, I’ll give you a ten percent cut. After all, the transaction is happening in your place.”That was reasonable.That’s how things worked in the vintage shop.Of course, Rowan was happy to proceed. He picked up a brush and casually wrote a character.The young attendant was fuming but had no choice.Master Dawnshade, however, glanced at the character and surprisingly agreed to let Amelia
Elijah gestured: He’s not bad!“Being praised by you is never a good thing,” Amelia said lazily.Now that the person had been saved, she had no reason to linger. She glanced at Scarface. “Second Uncle, shall we go for a stroll outside?”“Sure, let’s go.”As they were leaving, Scarface didn’t forget to warn Master Dawnshade. “Anything goes when making money in the vintage shop, but if you dare to harm people, be prepared to face the law.”Master Dawnshade chuckled lightly. “Mr. Lott, I only guide those who are fated. It seems that from now on, fate no longer binds us.”“Master Dawnshade.” Amelia toyed with a purple jade pendant and suddenly looked up. “You’re talking about fate with my second uncle? Then let me ask you, do you follow Daoism or Buddhism?”“Buddhism? That doesn’t seem right. After all, you are deeply entangled in worldly affairs, far from the purity of Buddhist practice.”“Then is it Daoism? But Daoist teachings focus on self-cultivation, not guiding others. There’s no n
"Amelia, this is the DNA test result. You are not Mr. Milton's biological daughter. Mr. Milton has found his real daughter and wants you to stop contacting them." Amelia arrived at her fiancé's house. It felt like a dream. She wasn't Jackson's daughter? She'd always wondered why Jackson let her take the Cromwell name. Now she knew—Jackson had known all along that she wasn't his daughter. She mustered the courage to text her fiance, Maynard Simmons, "Coming home for dinner tonight?" The wait felt endless. He hated being disturbed at work, and she worried he'd ignore her like he used to. But a second later, her phone lit up with his cold reply, "Yeah, we need to talk." Relieved, Amelia hurried to buy groceries and whipped up several of her best dishes. She placed the DNA test on the table, then thought better of it and flipped it over. As evening fell, a black luxury car pulled into the yard. Maynard got out, his suit jacket casually draped over his arm. His tall frame and sha
Amelia didn't even glance at the check, a flash of mockery in her eyes. "Think it's too little? This is your income for ten years. Take the money and stay out of our lives. Maynard and I are a perfect match. After all, you're just the daughter of a small businessman. You don't belong in our world." Amelia felt another stab of pain. She hurried upstairs to the master bedroom, planning to leave whether Misty was there or not. With the breakup, she had no reason to stay. As she packed, she realized how little she had—her things barely filled a suitcase. The past three years felt like a dream. She saw the DNA test result on the bedside table and thought to herself, It's time to end this. Just then, Misty walked in uninvited, holding the breakup agreement. "Are you packed?" she asked. Seeing the paper on the nightstand, she looked puzzled. Amelia quickly grabbed the DNA test and crumpled it. She didn't want Misty to know her secret. Misty still thought she was part of the Milton f
The thought of what was about to happen in that bed made Amelia's stomach churn, but she forced herself to stay calm. She turned and walked into the closet to pack her things. In no time, she had a suitcase ready. "Adrian, that suitcase looks like a designer brand. Find her something else to pack her things," Misty's shrill voice rang out, dripping with contempt. Soon, Adrian brought over an old cardboard box and threw it at Amelia's feet. "Use this," he grumbled. Amelia squatted down to open her suitcase, but Misty's voice came again, "Check her luggage properly later. Some people have sticky fingers. We don't want her taking anything she's not supposed to." Hearing this, Amelia's mind flashed back to Maynard's cold, ruthless look. He was in the bathroom next door, and if he found the DNA test result, he'd probably humiliate her even more. Adrian and Misty were watching her closely outside the closet. Amelia glanced at the DNA test hidden deep in her suitcase and made a quick d
Amelia let out all her pent-up grievances in one breath, and immediately felt much better. "Finished?" Maynard's eyes were filled with confusion. He had given her a credit card and had Adrian send her designer clothes and bags every season. Now, he'd given her a large sum of money for the breakup—enough for her to live comfortably. He thought he'd done his part. "Can't finish in a few words," she replied. "Go on," he urged. "I can, but it'll cost you more," she smirked. Maynard's lips pressed tightly together. "Amelia, you really are all about the money. Greed never ends well," he warned. She was still not satisfied, even after all he'd done for her. Amelia's eyes were defiant yet clear, and he couldn't understand how a woman he thought was nothing but a gold-digger with a mouth full of lies could have such pure eyes. But she'd caused trouble repeatedly, and now she didn't even bother to hide it anymore. He'd thought she'd finally show her true colors. He should have felt re
On the helicopter, Amelia gazed at the city's night view, a faint smile playing on her lips. She finally felt free. Half an hour later, the helicopter landed on the rooftop of a luxurious hotel. As Amelia stepped off, tall, black-clad bodyguards lined both sides, saluting in unison, "Welcome, Miss Cromwell!" Amelia looked at the scene, wondering if it was all too much. At the end of the line, she saw two people. One was Rosemary, and the other was a stern-looking man in a black suit. The man nodded as Amelia approached, while Rosemary said, "This is from the Jenkins family. They said they wanted to talk to you." Amelia was puzzled, but before she could speak, her other phone rang. "Amelia, new job! Amelia, new job! Amelia..." She quickly pulled out her phone and answered on the third ring, "What is it?" "Amelia, there's a big deal in LA. Are you interested?" She asked, "What kind of job?" "The richest man in New York is looking for his long-lost granddaughter. She's supposed
Elijah gestured: He’s not bad!“Being praised by you is never a good thing,” Amelia said lazily.Now that the person had been saved, she had no reason to linger. She glanced at Scarface. “Second Uncle, shall we go for a stroll outside?”“Sure, let’s go.”As they were leaving, Scarface didn’t forget to warn Master Dawnshade. “Anything goes when making money in the vintage shop, but if you dare to harm people, be prepared to face the law.”Master Dawnshade chuckled lightly. “Mr. Lott, I only guide those who are fated. It seems that from now on, fate no longer binds us.”“Master Dawnshade.” Amelia toyed with a purple jade pendant and suddenly looked up. “You’re talking about fate with my second uncle? Then let me ask you, do you follow Daoism or Buddhism?”“Buddhism? That doesn’t seem right. After all, you are deeply entangled in worldly affairs, far from the purity of Buddhist practice.”“Then is it Daoism? But Daoist teachings focus on self-cultivation, not guiding others. There’s no n
Master Dawnshade looked at Scarface. “Hey, you’re a veteran in the antique trade. Divination, character interpretation, and object selection all rely on trust. If you don’t believe, then please, feel free to go ahead.”Scarface had already seen through Master Dawnshade. He chuckled carelessly. “Don’t try to pressure me with industry rules. Divination is about mutual consent. Especially in the vintage shop—if both the buyer and seller agree, no one else has a say. Mr. Fisher hasn’t even complained about the price yet, Master Dawnshade, why are you in such a hurry?”“If this deal goes through for my niece, I’ll give you a ten percent cut. After all, the transaction is happening in your place.”That was reasonable.That’s how things worked in the vintage shop.Of course, Rowan was happy to proceed. He picked up a brush and casually wrote a character.The young attendant was fuming but had no choice.Master Dawnshade, however, glanced at the character and surprisingly agreed to let Amelia
Spencer’s expression turned cold. "You’re mistaken. Not all people in New York know each other.""Bro!" Rowan nudged him. "You just focus on getting your fortune read. Don't get involved in my business."Spencer’s voice was icy. "So, you’re just going to make friends with some commoner?"Scarface, though wary of escalating the conflict, knew exactly where he stood. "By that logic, I, Scarface, shouldn't be here either, huh? Since the Fisher family is so high and mighty."The current position of the Fisher family patriarch meant that they had to avoid drawing too much attention.Spencer understood this. Hearing Scarface's words, he clenched his fist in frustration but softened his tone. "Grandpa Oak, you misunderstand. We’re all the same. I never saw you as an outsider."That was a concession.Scarface let it go at that. "Then I’ll take that as a misunderstanding. You two young masters carry on. I’ll take my niece to look around.""Wait." Amelia’s gaze landed on Rowan’s waist, and she
"He is indeed very good-looking," Amelia said casually, about to leave.On the other side, Spencer, who was about to have his fortune told through calligraphy, glanced over and slightly narrowed his eyes. "Miss, you should be more polite when you speak. This is New York."Amelia chuckled. "Is this gentleman trying to teach me how to behave?"Spencer looked at her. She was undeniably beautiful, but what kind of attitude was this?Did Scarface never teach her the unspoken rules of the New York elite?"Scarface, handle this as you see fit," Spencer said indifferently. He couldn't be bothered with this any further. In his eyes, she was just an outsider.His younger brother had only looked at her a few times, yet she was putting on airs.Hah, the disdain on Spencer's face was obvious.Rowan, on the other hand, realized he had gone too far. "Ah, my bad, my bad, Miss. I was just joking. I didn't expect you and your fiancé to be so close. You're a pure love warrior, huh?"Amelia could tell th
Scarface was floored!She had done it on purpose—deliberately leading the conversation toward academics to expose that Master Dawnshade couldn’t predict a thing!He had spent no less than a million at Master Dawnshade’s place over the past year.How did it come to this?!Scarface forced himself to stay calm.Master Dawnshade was still looking at him. "Sir Jonathan?"Sir Jonathan, my ass! Scarface’s eyes widened fiercely. "Not buying!"The elder's expression stiffened—he clearly hadn’t expected this outcome.Just then, laughter sounded behind Scarface."Grandpa Oak, you’re really turning your back now? Not even giving Master Dawnshade some face?"The group strolled in, dressed in the latest fashion, all wearing high-end brands.Each had a distinct style—some with dyed hair, others with striking good looks—but they all had one thing in common: their privileged backgrounds.Elijah found this quite intriguing—he was always sharp when it came to money.He glanced at Amelia, as if asking,
Curse Others, Curse Yourself?!Scarface gasped sharply.Better not stay in the capital?!Could Master Dawnshade have foreseen that the person he brought was actually the seventh young lady the Cromwell family just reclaimed?Scarface opened his mouth, about to speak, but Amelia beat him to it:"Master, may I ask if there is a way to resolve this?""It is very difficult to resolve." The elderly man looked compassionate. "Some suffering is beyond your control. You lacked love since childhood, rarely understood by others, leading to resentment."Amelia spun the teacup in her fingers, her smile faint. "Resentment?""Yes," the old man looked at her. "Your suffering stems from resentment—you are unaware of it yet unable to break free. You wonder why others have what you lack."Elijah, listening at the side, was growing impatient, his tiger-like eyes narrowing dangerously.Yet Amelia merely sighed lazily, her tone indifferent:"Someone read my fortune before. He told me that my blessings are
Scarface initially wanted to dismiss her as someone from a "small place" with limited knowledge.But seeing her composed and confident demeanor, he couldn’t help but second-guess himself.Regardless of what others thought, if Mr.Cromwell acknowledged her, then she was legitimate—end of story.Scarface reassured himself with this thought.Amelia remained as poised as ever, her refined presence standing out, but she showed no interest in discussing Mr. Cromwell."We’re here." Scarface lifted his heels slightly to get a better look. "As expected, there's a queue."The crowd was sizable. The line of appointments stretched from inside the store all the way out onto the street.The storefront had a traditional aesthetic, filled with an array of antique treasures.A man walked out holding a slip of paper, beaming with joy. "The master said that if I follow this prescription, I’m guaranteed to have a son!""The master even knew you were trying for a child?!" someone nearby exclaimed in amazem
"Miss Amelia, first time here?"The man was talkative, speaking in a pure New York accent."You can call me Scarface."As soon as he finished speaking, someone from a nearby stall called out, "Sir Jonathan, you're here! I’ve got some good stuff today!""I’ll take a look later." Scarface nodded, exuding an air of authority."Alright! I’ll keep it reserved for you!"Amelia’s smile was subtle. "Sir Jonathan?"Scarface fanned himself leisurely. "It’s just a name folks in the trade gave me out of respect. You know, I go by Scarface."Then, he turned back to business. "Mr. Cromwell mentioned that Miss Amelia is looking for some mountain stones and special artifacts? Any specific requirements for quality?""Not really." Amelia replied while shifting her gaze to Elijah.Elijah seemed right at home in the vintage shop, his sharp eyes scanning the stalls before slightly pursing his lips.Amelia brought him here as her personal scanner. His eyes could help her locate valuable items with remarkab
Amelia had a lot on her mind—things she needed to sort through.She wanted to clarify everything before telling him.But Carl was sharp and always caught onto the key points. “You think I’ll be in danger on the highway?”“Yes.” Amelia met his gaze directly.Carl looked into her eyes and laughed softly. “I’ll listen to everything you say.”That made Amelia’s expression shift slightly. “Then be careful of the people around you.”“Understood.” Carl tucked her long hair behind her ear. “Do you need my help with the Cromwell family? After all, I’ve lived in New York longer than you and know more than you do.”Amelia didn’t hesitate. “I do need you to set up a meeting with a designer.”“Who?” Carl asked.Amelia handed him a business card. “A foreign designer—Kogawa Takeda.”Carl’s expression darkened. “Another Kogawa family member?”“You know him? That makes things easier.” Amelia spoke casually. “He designed the Cromwell family’s old residence. I think he did a good job, so I want to ask a