Rosalind spoke up at once, voice soft and anxious.
“Callum, don’t say that.
Elara would never steal the Weston family’s money, and she definitely wouldn’t sell herself outside.”
On the surface, it sounded like she was speaking up for Elara.
But once it hit everyone else’s ears, the meaning twisted completely.
Alexander was so furious his chest started hurting.
He pressed a hand to it, face dark as thunder.
“I was originally planning to let Elara stay on in Capital City.
But now?
If she keeps carrying the Weston name, she’ll only drag our family’s reputation through the mud.
She has to go.
No question.”
Rosalind lowered her eyes, and the corners of her lips curved up ever so slightly.
By the time Elara came back downstairs, the way everyone looked at her had totally changed.
The room was packed with guests, and every gaze carried disgust, curiosity, or straight-up schadenfreude.
Alexander didn’t even try to save face in front of the crowd.
He barked, “Elara!
Look at the mess you’ve made!
Kneel down right now!”
The surrounding guests instantly lit up, all of them wearing that classic watching-the-drama-unfold expression.
What a pity for them.
Elara stood there with her back straight, posture clean and sharp, not moving an inch.
Her face was calm to the point of coldness.
“I came back because I was invited.
Not to kneel for anyone.”
Alexander got even angrier, practically shaking.
“You really are beyond saving.
Your brothers were absolutely right to throw you out of the Weston family!”
Mrs.
Weston frowned, her voice carrying deliberate authority.
“I rushed back today for one reason only: to officially announce that Rosalind is now the daughter of our Weston family.
Elara, no matter how you apologize to me now, I still won’t—”
“This is the necklace Mrs.
Weston gave me.”
Elara cut her off cleanly, not giving her room to finish.
She opened the box in her hand, took out an emerald necklace, and placed it directly into Rosalind’s hands.
“It’s yours now.”
“And this—this limited-edition brooch my eldest brother gave me when we were little.
Yours too.”
“This pink diamond ring was from my Broderick.”
“This trophy was from my third brother, the first time he won a competition.”
One by one, Elara handed everything over to Rosalind.
Her movements were steady, almost careless, but every word landed hard.
“All of it,” she said.
“It’s yours.”
Callum blew up on the spot, embarrassed and furious.
“That was the trophy I won in my very first racing competition!
And you just gave it away like that?!”
Elara couldn’t even be bothered to look at him.
She acted like he was just background noise and kept stuffing the items into Rosalind’s stiff, helpless hands.
The Weston family all froze when they saw those things.
So that was why Elara had gone upstairs just now.
She had gone to collect everything.
Even Rosalind panicked for a second, caught completely off guard.
She hurriedly shook her head, voice flustered.
“No, no, Elara, I can’t take these.
They’re your things…”
Elara looked at her and said flatly, “Congratulations on becoming the Weston family’s one and only heiress.”
She swept her gaze across the crowd again and said in a clear, ringing voice, “Everyone here, please witness this.
I, Elara, am not the Weston family’s daughter.
I never was, and from this day on, I absolutely never will be.”
Those words were supposed to come from the Westons to Elara.
Instead, she threw them out first, flipping the whole scene on its head and catching everyone completely off guard.
“And one more thing.” Elara shifted her eyes to Sebastian, her tone cool and sharp.
“I seriously have zero interest in men with nothing in their heads.
Young Master Merritt and my dear sister are a perfect match.
So right here, right now, I am calling off my engagement to Sebastian.”
She paused, then added without the slightest trace of politeness, “And I’d also appreciate it if the Weston family stopped bothering me from now on.
Being harassed nonstop is honestly really annoying.”
One sentence, and she trashed Sebastian from top to bottom.
At the same time, she dragged Rosalind into it too.
This was supposed to be Rosalind’s moment, her stage, her big win.
Instead, it had completely turned into Elara’s one-woman mic-drop.
The Merritt family’s expressions changed on the spot.
Their pride couldn’t take it.
Sebastian immediately stepped forward, face dark, voice raised.
“I’m empty-headed?
Take a look at yourself first.
You’re just some wild girl from the countryside.
Have you forgotten how you used to cling to me?
Let me make this clear—I have always liked a proper lady like Rosalind, not some rude savage like you!
If this engagement is ending, then the Merritt family should be the one to say it first!”
The people in the back instantly started chiming in.
“Exactly.
The Merritts just secured a two-billion project with the Ashford family.
I heard Young Master Merritt personally handled the negotiation.”
“With Young Master Merritt’s abilities, Elara probably just couldn’t get what she wanted and got mad out of embarrassment.”
“We, the Merritt family, are about to become one of Capital City’s top elite families.” Sebastian lifted his chin, smugness practically dripping from his face.
“Elara, someone like you thinks you’re worthy of me?
Go back to your little village and live your farm life.”
Since Elara had made things this final, Mrs.
Weston no longer bothered keeping up appearances.
She wrapped an arm around Rosalind, her expression firm as steel, and announced to everyone, “That’s right.
Since everyone’s here today, let me make one thing official.
The one engaged to the Merritt family has always been the true daughter of the Weston family, not some fake stand-in.
I only have one daughter, and that is Rosalind.
Elara is no longer my daughter.”
At that moment, Broderick suddenly spoke up.
“Elara, actually…
if you’re willing to lower your head and apologize to Mom, you can still come back to the Weston family.
Your brothers would still treat you the same as before.”
Rosalind’s eyes reddened slightly.
Deep down, she was annoyed that Broderick was still thinking about letting Elara return, but on the surface, she kept her voice soft and gentle.
“That’s right, Sister.
I can step back from the marriage too.
I know you’ve always liked Sebastian.
You’re just saying all this out of pride.
I can give him back to you, as long as you stop making mistakes.”
Elara let out a short laugh through her nose and looked at the family as if they were all idiots.
“No need.
I already said it—an idiot belongs with another idiot.
That’s the only way they last forever.”
Mr.
Weston trembled with anger, his face flushing red.
“Elara!
If you walk out that door, then never come back again!”
Elara turned and left without even a second of hesitation, not a shred of attachment in her steps.
Even Mrs.
Weston had not expected her to be this decisive.
All of a sudden, pain shot through her leg.
Her fingers tightened around Rosalind’s arm as she sucked in a breath.
“Tsk—”
Broderick quickly moved over and supported her from the other side.
“Mother?
What’s wrong?”
“My leg is acting up again.” Mrs.
Weston gritted her teeth, then called out to the servants, “Bring me the medicine.
Now.”
The servant looked troubled and lowered his head.
“Madam…
last night’s dose was the last one.
There’s none left today.”
Mrs.
Weston snapped, “What, nobody could’ve gone and prepared it earlier?
Did you really have to wait for me to ask before saying anything?”
The maid glanced nervously toward the doorway.
The girl on the motorcycle was already long gone.
“But…
ma’am, Miss Elara has always been the one mixing your medicine.
Other than her, none of us even know what the prescription is.”
Mrs.
Weston froze on the spot.
Her legs had been plagued by severe rheumatism for years.
So many years had passed that she’d actually forgotten this medicine had always been prepared by Elara.
Rosalind caught the change in her expression and instantly felt a jolt of alarm.
This was bad.
Without missing a beat, she threw herself into Mrs.
Weston’s arms and said softly, “Mother, don’t worry.
Anything my sister can do, I can do too.
I’ll work hard, learn from my teachers and from her, study medicine properly, and help cure your leg.”
Hearing that, Mrs.
Weston’s heart melted at once.
She patted Rosalind with obvious relief.
“That’s right.
Our Rosalind is far better than that Elara ever was.
I’m sure you’ll heal my legs.”
Broderick stood by and watched the whole touching mother-daughter scene play out in front of him, but his feelings only grew messier.
For some reason, the thought kept circling in his mind like a shadow he couldn’t shake off—
letting Elara leave the Weston family might end up being a decision all of them would regret.
…
Elara had just gotten on her motorcycle and ridden out through the Weston family gates when, at the corner ahead, a massive convoy suddenly cut her off.
At the same time, a thunderous whir came from above her head.
Not only was there a full line of black Maybachs, but five helicopters were circling overhead as well.
One by one, they descended slowly and landed near her.
The villa district where the Weston family lived wasn’t exactly the most elite neighborhood in the city, but luxury cars came and went all the time.
Still, dispatching an entire convoy of limited-edition Maybachs and a helicopter formation?
Yeah, this was a first, even for Elara.
She assumed some big-shot family had shown up and was about to take a detour and leave, but then a large group of bodyguards in suits stepped out of the cars.
Every single one of them was dressed in custom high-end tailoring, earpieces clipped in place.
They moved with military precision and quickly formed two straight lines in front of her, blocking the road so tightly there wasn’t even a gap to squeeze through.
Then the helicopter doors opened.
The pilots climbed down swiftly and stood at attention, all of them waiting in silence for the cabin door of the helicopter in the center to open.
Elara narrowed her eyes.
The first thing she saw was a long leg wrapped in tailored suit pants stepping down from the cabin.
Then the man emerged fully.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and striking enough to make people pause, he wore a custom slate-gray suit that made his features look even sharper, colder, and ridiculously refined.
He walked toward her step by step.
Only when he stopped close enough did he finally speak, his voice low and smooth, like it carried its own weight.
“Elara?”