Billionaires baby Bargained: A vow Of Deception

Chapter 1

Omen of Bloodshed

"Ma'am, there's a dark shadow over you, an omen of bad luck! Give me three rolls, and I'll help you change your fate!"

Ivy sloane stood in front of the small bakery, her navy-blue cloak draped over her thin frame. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun, and dirt smudged her pale face. Despite her disheveled appearance, her expression was completely serious.

Mrs. Turner, busy arranging loaves in her shop, scowled. Getting cursed first thing in the morning was not how she wanted to start her day.

She turned sharply, ready to snap at the girl-until she actually looked at her. Ivy's face was gaunt, her eyes hollow with hunger. The woman hesitated, then sighed and reached into a bag, pulling out five rolls.

"Here, take them. And keep your charms to yourself."

Ivy Sloane wasted no time devouring the bread. Then, wiping crumbs from her mouth, she pulled a small, worn slip of paper from her pocket and pressed it into Mrs. Turner's hands.

"I'm not taking charity," she insisted. "This is for your protection. Keep it with you, and it'll keep you safe."

Before the woman could argue, Ivy folded the charm into a small triangle, slipped it into her coat pocket, and turned away.

Mrs. Turner frowned. "Wait! Where are you going?"

"To the capital," Ivy called over her shoulder. She waved once, then disappeared down the street.

Ivy had always been different.

She had been abandoned as a newborn, left by a riverbank with no name and no past.

Because she could see things others couldn't.

Spirits, shadows, the lingering traces of the dead-her second sight made her an outcast. If not for Ethan Farris, a traveling mystic who took her in, she wouldn't have survived. Under his care, she studied the old ways-divination, sigils, and the ancient art of protection magic.

But a week ago, Ethan passed away. And before he died, he left her with one final message:

"Ivy, I arranged a marriage for you. He's the key to your survival. Find him in the capital before it's too late."

She had known since childhood that her life wasn't meant to last. Her energy was wrong-too cold, too unstable. Ethan had warned her: she wouldn't live past twenty.

Tomorrow is her twentieth birthday.

Which meant she had one day left.

If she wanted to survive, she had to find this mysterious fiancé.

But the closer she got to her birthday, the worse her luck became.

Disaster trailed behind her like a curse.

The moment she stepped outside, a mudslide nearly buried her alive.

A freak lightning strike fried her old phone.

She barely made it to the train station, only to realize she'd spent every last dollar on a ticket.

Ivy refused to die. She wanted to live.

But first, she had to get to the capital.

Walking wouldn't get her there in time.

She needed a ride.

Or she needed to steal one.

That evening, Mrs. Turner locked up her shop and rode her old electric scooter through the narrow streets.

Just one more turn, and she'd be home.

"A bad omen? A looming disaster?"

She huffed. Kids these days believe the strangest things.

CRASH!

A loud noise rang out behind her, making her stomach lurch.

She slammed the brakes and turned around.

A heavy flower pot had fallen from a second-story window, shattering into shards just inches from where she had been moments ago.

Her pulse pounded in her ears. The pavement was covered in sharp fragments-yet not one had touched her.

If she had been even a second slower, the pot would have hit her square in the head.

Her hands trembled as she reached into her pocket and pulled out Ivy's charm.

It had turned to ash.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"That girl... she wasn't lying."

Slowly, Mrs. Turner stepped off her scooter, turned in the direction of the capital, and bowed her head.

"Whoever you are... thank you for saving me."

By three in the morning, the streets were eerily silent, blanketed in thick fog. The air had turned bone-chillingly cold, making Ivy pull her cloak tighter around herself.

A sharp gust of wind howled through the empty road.

Then, out of nowhere, a yellow taxi rolled up to the curb.

A strange, tattered flag fluttered from its antenna, covered in faded symbols, Ivy couldn't quite make out.

The driver rolled down the window.

"Need a lift, miss?"

Ivy stepped closer, inspecting the car.

The entire thing was plastered with SpongeBob SquarePants stickers.

Of all the haunted taxis in the world, she had to get this one.

Without hesitation, she yanked open the door and slid inside. "Take me to the capital."

The driver hesitated. In the mirror, his expression shifted.

This girl had no fear.

Slowly, he turned toward her. His face was ghostly pale.

Then, with a sickening pop, he reached up and plucked out his eyeballs.

Blood streamed down his cheeks, soaking into his collar. The entire car filled with the thick, metallic stench of iron.

The driver grinned, revealing rows of yellowed, rotting teeth.

"Surprised, sweetheart?" His voice was low, sing-song.

He leaned closer, his hollow eye sockets dark and dripping.

"I'm a ghost."

The driver expected Ivy to be terrified, but she remained unfazed. "Just drive. I'm rushing."

Despite the eerie atmosphere, there was no overwhelming sense of malice in the car, meaning the driver hadn't harmed anyone. He was just an ordinary ghost, not worth Ivy's concern.

The ghost driver was dumbfounded. Why wasn't she scared? Everyone he had encountered before, young or old, had screamed in terror at the sight of him.

Determined to shake her, he leaned in, exhaling a cold breath against her skin. His teeth gleamed as he sneered, "Girl, a ride in my car might cost you your life." He then let out a deep, sinister laugh, hoping to rattle her.

Ivy, irritated by the noise, grabbed his eyeballs and shoved them into his mouth. Her voice was cold as steel. "Make another sound, and I'll send you straight to the afterlife."

An unseen force surged through the car, instantly weakening the ghost's energy. Realizing he had provoked someone far beyond his understanding, the driver hastily dug the eyeballs from his throat and jammed them back into their sockets.

Scrambling back into his seat, he buckled his seatbelt. "M-Miss... it's not that I don't want to drive. I just can't leave this area."

"Just drive," Ivy said, closing her eyes as if to rest.

Though doubtful, the ghost hesitantly stepped on the gas. To his surprise, the car moved freely, gliding down the road that had once trapped him.

Thirty minutes later, he pulled up to their destination and let out an awkward chuckle. "We're here, Miss."

Ivy glanced at the towering skyscraper ahead. "You're a decent driver," she remarked.

The ghost rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I've been at it for twenty years."

Stepping out, he held the door open for her. "After you."

Ivy turned to him, her gaze thoughtful. "The dead and the living are separated for a reason. Your energy is harmful to the living, just as ours is to you. Since you gave me a ride, I'll return the favor-I'll help you cross over."

The ghost stiffened.

He had barely entertained the idea before Ivy saw right through him.

Dropping to his knees, he begged, "Please, just let me go back one last time! I can't leave my wife and daughter like this."

His name was Leonard Brooks, a taxi driver who had spent his life scraping together a living for his family. He had no fancy education, just a strong desire to provide for his wife and their five-year-old little girl.

The night he died, he had been rushing home. His daughter's favorite SpongeBob plushie sat on the passenger seat beside him, a reminder of the life he was eager to return to.

But fate had other plans.

The bridge collapsed beneath him, sending his car plunging into the river. He never made it home.

Since then, he had been driving the same road every night, the hope of seeing his family again keeping him tethered to the world of the living. He even covered his car in SpongeBob decorations, wishing someone-anyone-would recognize him.

Now, he was sobbing, clinging to Ivy's pant leg like a child. "My daughter... she's too young to lose her father..."

Ivy grimaced, shaking off his grip. "Enough with the waterworks. You're literally crying like a ghost."

Leonard sniffled, pulling out the worn SpongeBob plush from his pocket. He held it out to her.

"Please, Miss... If I can't stay, could you at least deliver a message?"

He hesitated before continuing, his voice choked with emotion. "Tell them I love them. Tell my wife... not to grieve too much. And if she ever meets someone good, she should remarry."

Ivy cut him off. "No need. You can tell them yourself."

Leonard's breath caught. "I... I can?"

"I'll let you visit their dreams," Ivy confirmed.

Overwhelmed, Leonard's face lit up. "Miss, you're a miracle worker!"

Ivy lifted her chin. "I've been doing this kind of thing since I was three."

Leonard eagerly nodded, giving her a thumbs-up. "A prodigy, no doubt!"

She began the ritual. "Alright, let's hurry-dawn is almost here."

As her spell took hold, Leonard's form began to fade. His voice echoed as he called out, "Thank you! If you ever end up in the afterlife, I swear I'll repay you!"

Ivy's expression darkened at the mention of death. If she didn't find her so-called fiancé soon, she wouldn't have to wait long to find out what the afterlife had in store.

With a sigh, she continued her journey, weaving through the city.

Hours passed, but she found nothing-no signs, no one with the fate she was searching for.

As night fell, an unbearable pain crawled through her body, sharp and suffocating. It felt like fire and ice gnawing at her veins.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto the hospital steps.

"Dying here wouldn't be the worst thing," she muttered to herself. "At least the morgue's close."

Just as she resigned herself to her fate, a sleek, black Maybach pulled up to the curb.

A suited bodyguard hurried to open the door, bowing slightly as he announced, "Mr. Shaw."

A tall, striking man stepped out, dressed in an impeccable black suit. His presence was magnetic, his features sharp and commanding.

Even among the well-dressed men surrounding him, he stood out-like a king among pawns.

Then Ivy saw it.

A brilliant halo of purple light surrounded him, glowing like a beacon at night.

Her breath caught.

It was him.

Ivy shot upright as if struck by lightning and sprinted toward the man.

The deep indigo glow around him made him seem almost otherworldly powerful, controlled, exuding an effortless authority. He carried himself like someone who naturally ruled over others. Just looking at him sent a jolt through her, as if the unstable force within her had found something or someonecapable of containing it.

"For once, you did something right," she muttered under her breath, addressing her absent mentor. "Guess I owe you one, old man. You actually saved my life."

She hesitated a few feet away, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.

Damn it.

Her so-called mentor had sent her here with no explanation, no introduction-just a name. If she walked up and started talking, this man would think she was insane. Maybe even call security.

She studied him carefully, searching for a clue, a sign-anything. But his presence was overwhelming, his energy unreadable.

Ethan felt the weight of her stare and glanced in her direction.

A girl.

Navy-blue jacket, dark hair pulled into a tight bun. A battered old backpack slung over one shoulder. A thin, multicolored bracelet around her wrist. But it was her eyes that caught him-sharp, bright, impossibly clear.

Something about her tugged at his attention.

Strange.

Dismissing the thought, he turned and strode toward the hospital entrance.

A few days ago, his aunt had called him in a panic, his younger cousin, Nathaniel yate, had slipped into a coma, and no doctor could explain why. Tonight, he was here for answers.

"What are you staring at?"

Ryan Quinn's voice rang out as he strolled up to the entrance, radiating his usual carefree charm.

The security team straightened. "Mr. Walker."

Ryan Quinn grinned. "Come on, drop the 'Mr.' Just call me President Walker."

The guards remained stone-faced, ignoring him entirely.

Ryan was well-known-for all the wrong reasons. A notorious flirt, a troublemaker, nowhere near as intimidating as their real boss, Ethan Shaw. If not for the deep ties between their families, Ethan would've had him exiled to an oil rig years ago.

Still grinning, Ryan elbowed Ethan. "Hey, if there's a beautiful woman involved, I expect a heads-up, got it?"

Ethan barely spared him a glance. "What are you doing here?"

Ryan stretched, letting out a dramatic yawn. "Your cousin is practically my little brother. And since you're my old, cranky friend, that makes us family. Obviously, I had to be here."

Ethan scoffed. "Right. Like I don't know your real reason."

He smirked, saying just one name: "Eleanor."

Ryan flinched like he'd been shocked. "I broke up with Eleanor ages ago! Don't go spreading rumors. I came here for you, and this is the thanks I get? You wound me."

Ethan ignored him and stepped toward the hospital entrance.

Then,

"Wait!"

Ivy darted forward, urgency in her voice.

She had minutes,maybe seconds left. Taking a steadying breath, she blurted out, "My name is Ivy sloane. I'm Ethan Farris's apprentice-and I'm your fiancée."

Ryan choked. "Wait. What? Since when do you have a fiancée? And why am I only hearing about this now?"

Ethan's gaze was ice. "I don't know her."

Ivy swallowed hard. That damn mentor of hers had vanished without an explanation, leaving her to figure this out alone.

She tried again. "Ethan Harris. He told me to find you."

Ethan frowned. "Never heard of him."

He gave a slight nod toward the guards.

The momentary confusion in their eyes vanished as duty kicked in. One of them stepped forward. "Apologies, Mr. Shaw. We'll handle this."

A hand reached for Ivy's arm

She gasped sharply, clutching her chest. A wave of dizziness hit her, turning her face ghostly pale.

Ryan stepped between them, waving the guard off. "Whoa, whoa, easy. Ethan, you're scaring the poor girl."

Then he grinned at Ivy. "Look, I get it. Ethan's cold as ice. The human embodiment of a snowstorm. Why don't you ditch him and hang out with me instead?"

Ivy studied him, expression unreadable. "You won't do."

Ryan blinked. "Excuse me? And why not?"

She tilted her head slightly, voice calm, matter-of-fact. "Your eyes have a slight greenish tint-classic signs of too much alcohol and not enough sleep. That means kidney strain and poor circulation."

Ryan gawked. "Excuse me?"

Ivy continued, unbothered. "Your eyebrows are thick at the front but thin at the ends. And you've got a mole on the left side of your face. That means you have terrible luck in love."

Ryan sputtered.

She wasn't done. "And the lines around your mouth? Uneven. Relationships, an absolute disaster."

Ryan looked horrified.

Kidney issues? Bad love life? A relationship disaster? Was he cursed?

Wait,why was he even taking this seriously?

"This is nonsense!" Ryan huffed. "I'm a legend in this city. Handsome, rich, the total package. My love life is just fine."

Ivy barely blinked. "You love a woman who doesn't love you back. You act like you don't care, but every night, you relive every moment with her. So you drink-to forget, to numb yourself. But it doesn't work."

Ryan froze.

Heat crept up his neck.

How the hell did she?

Ethan, watching silently, finally spoke. "Enough."

Ryan swallowed hard, forcing himself to recover. "Okay, Miss Psychic. If you're so insightful, then tell me something about Ethan. If you can reveal one of his secrets, I'll personally deliver him to your doorstep."

Ivy shook her head. "His fate is too strong. I can't see through it. But I do know one thing-he's the fiancé my mentor chose for me."

Ethan's gaze sharpened.

Ivy locked eyes with him, her voice steady. "Ethan, I need your help."

Something was wrong. She had found him-the person she was meant to-but the energy leaking from her hadn't stopped.

What had her mentored said about stabilizing herself once she met her fated partner?

Something about... taking a bite?

Realization struck.

Without hesitation, Ivy lunged forward.

Ethan's instincts screamed at him. He stepped back

Too slow.

Ivy grabbed his wrist, rose onto her tiptoes, leaned in

And bit his neck.

Ethan: ... What the hell?

The bodyguards: ... Oh my god.

Ryan: Now this is getting interesting.

The bodyguards were all taken aback.

My God! Mr. Shaw was actually bitten by a woman, no less!

Ryan, Ethan's close friend, stood frozen for a second before frantically whipping out his phone. This rare moment needed to be documented. His social media circle would love this.

He snapped photos from several angles, even applying filters to enhance the aesthetic. One shot, in particular, was perfect. It captured half of Ethan's face, while Ivy's silhouette gave the illusion that she was kissing his chin.

Beaming to himself, Ryan thought, Once I post this, high society is going to explode. He was determined to take full advantage of Ethan's shock and get a few more priceless shots.

Meanwhile, Ethan Shaw was utterly stunned. No one had ever dared to bite him before. He was so intimidating that even mosquitoes seemed to keep their distance. Yet, today-a woman had bitten him!

"You" Ethan was so furious that words failed him. Just as he was about to push Ivy away-

She instinctively let go and took a step back.

The area fell into sudden silence, except for the harsh click of the camera shutter.

Ethan turned his icy gaze toward Ryan, who was still gleefully taking photos.

"Ryan! Delete that. Now." His voice was sharp as a blade.

Ryan met Ethan's murderous glare and bolted. He hadn't even thought to mute his phone. Unfortunately, he didn't get far. A nearby bodyguard tackled him to the ground.

Ryan swallowed hard as he faced Ethan's fury. "Uh, wait, let me explain."

Ethan grabbed the phone and barked an order to his men. "Watch him. Don't let this idiot out of your sight."

Ryan suddenly felt completely trapped. Damn. He was really done for this time.

Desperate, he blurted out, "Oh no! That girl, she escaped!"

Ethan's head snapped around and sure enough, Ivy was gone. The woman had slipped away while everyone was distracted.

His fingers brushed over the bite mark on his neck, irritation surging through him. "Find her! Even if you have to turn the whole city upside down, bring her back to me!"

Ryan groaned internally. That ungrateful woman! She had the nerve to bite Ethan and then run, leaving him to suffer Ethan's wrath.

He struggled a few times but couldn't break free from the guards' grip. With a deep sigh, he accepted his fate.

Ethan gave him one last withering glance, unlocked the phone, and went straight to the camera roll.

Ryan wailed. Grandpa. Please come save your grandson.

Before he could finish, Ethan's body swayed. His vision blurred. Then darkness.

The bodyguards caught him before he hit the ground.

"Boss Shaw just collapsed."

"Get Dr. Walker-now."

They rushed Ethan to the hospital, and, for good measure, tied Ryan up and threw him into the dark room next door.

Ryan could only make pitiful whimpering noises, silently protesting his innocence.

Ethan's Dream

Ethan lay in the hospital bed, slipping into unconsciousness.

In his dream, he stood in a grand, ancient palace. A woman in white stood at the center, bathed in a soft glow. A sheer veil covered her face.

Ethan felt an eerie sense of familiarity, but he couldn't make out her features.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice echoing through the vast hall.

Every time he had this dream, his question went unanswered. But this time, it was different.

The woman reached out a delicate hand and whispered, "Ethan, hurry. The grand ritual is about to begin."

Ethan tried to grasp her hand, but she suddenly turned translucent, dissolving like mist.

"Wait-don't go." He lunged forward, but his fingers met only empty air.

Her voice lingered in the silence. "Ethan... goodbye."

"No."

Ethan woke with a sharp gasp, drenched in cold sweat.

Chapter 2

Materialized

Ivy followed the compass southward, her surroundings growing more desolate with every step.

After passing an old graveyard, she entered a shadowy forest where the trees loomed ominously, their gnarled branches casting eerie silhouettes. A sense of unease settled over her, there were no birds, no insects, not even a whisper of life.

She reached for the bracelet on her wrist and murmured, "Casper, go check it out."

Could she reward really be hidden in such a foreboding place?

"On it, Boss."

A shimmer of white light flickered from the bracelet, and instantly, a small figure materialized a tiny, doll-like creature dressed in a white tunic, its face painted with delicate features and neat bangs framing its head.

"I'll take a look."

Ivy nodded. "Be quick."

Casper darted forward, slipping between the trees.

The other small figures on her bracelet stirred, their tiny voices chiming at once.

"Boss, let me go too!"

"I want to help!"

"Pick me next time!"

Ivy tapped the bracelet, silencing them. "Ember, Elise, Goodness, stay put."

The figures fell still. She found a nearby stump and sat down to wait.

As a child, Ivy had been left alone often, with no one to keep her company. So, she had created these enchanted paper figures. Over the years, she had given them purpose.

Casper had come from an abandoned town, left behind after its people had vanished. Ember, Elise, and Goodness had similar origins. One by one, they had followed her, and she had nurtured them.

She absentmindedly stroked her bracelet. "Once I make some real money, I'll get you all proper outfits."

"Really? That's remarkable! Thanks, Boss!" Goodness spun excitedly in place.

"I appreciate it, Boss." Ember's voice was calm.

"Me too." Elise chimed in.

Ivy chuckled. They might be spirits, but they were her family.

A moment later, Casper's voice echoed in her mind, there was someone up ahead.

At that moment, Casper was crouched behind a tree, observing an unusual scene.

A young man sat on the ground, his hands clutching his head. "Please, just let me go! I can't win against you, and if I don't get back soon, my mom's going to freak out!"

Hovering in front of him was a strange, shifting mist, golden-brown in color, crackling with energy. It bounced excitedly. "No way. You have to play one more round."

The man groaned. "Come on, I've already lost ten times. You're literally just a floating cloud. I'll never catch you."

The mist bristled. "How dare you insult me. That's it, we're not friends anymore."

The man rolled his eyes. "We were never friends."

The mist gasped dramatically, then tackled him. "Fine. I'm taking you with me."

But before it could drag him away, it smashed directly into Casper, who had been watching from the shadows.

Casper grinned. "Hi, I'm Casper."

Both the mist and the young man screamed in terror.

"A monster." the mist yelped.

"A ghost?" the man gasped.

Their cries overlapped as they scrambled to escape.

Casper touched his face. What? I thought smiling made people feel better.

The young man, Nathaniel, was frozen in horror.

In front of him stood an unknown creature, and behind him, the mist was losing its mind.

He had to get out of here. Now.

Without hesitation, he turned and ran.

"Mom. I'm finally free."

The mist spun in a panic. "Hey. He's getting away."

It turned on Casper. "This is all your fault, you creepy little scarecrow."

Nathaniel didn't dare look back. He sprinted through the trees, his breath coming in gasps.

Then, in the distance, he spotted a figure standing in the moonlight.

His heart leapt. A human? Finally.

He waved frantically. "Help. Is anybody there?"

Before he could finish shouting, the figure stepped forward.

Nathaniel's face turned pale. "... A ghost?"

How unlucky could he get? Three monsters in one night?

His legs buckled, and he collapsed, clutching his chest. "Mom, I'm sorry. I wasn't strong enough. I hope you won't be too sad when I die."

Then, sobbing even louder, he added, "Please bury my PC with me... and my gaming chair..."

Ivy crossed her arms. "Oh, for the love of-get up."

She studied him curiously. This man was very much alive-just separated from his body.

It wasn't unusual for a living soul to get lost outside its body, but it usually corrected itself within a few hours.

"He's been out for three days?" Ivy muttered to herself. "Something's keeping him from going back."

She glanced at him again. His clothes were expensive. Rich kid, huh?

Her luck reading had pointed her to this exact ghost.

If she helped return his soul to his body, she'd definitely get paid.

Nathaniel suddenly stopped crying. His wide eyes locked onto Ivy.

She had a shadow.

His breath caught. "... Wait. You're alive?"

Ivy smirked. "Obviously. What, do I look like an alien?"

Nathaniel trembled with excitement.

A real, living human. Finally.

Then he remembered the creatures still lurking behind him.

His face went white again. "Run. They're coming."

He grabbed Ivy's sleeve, ready to drag her away-but she didn't budge an inch.

Why is she so strong?

Nathaniel stomped his foot. "What are you doing? We have to go."

Ivy's eyes lit up. "Go? Why? I love hunting spirits."

Nathaniel stared at her like she was insane. "This isn't a video game."

At that moment, Casper emerged from the trees, followed by the golden mist.

Nathaniel's soul nearly left his body a second time.

"We're doomed. We're actually doomed."

Casper cheerfully waved. "Boss. You're finally here."

Nathaniel froze.

... Boss.

What the hell was going on?

Ivy glanced at the swirling mass of earthy-yellow mist and murmured, "Are you the Spirit of the Earth?"

It was said that energy from the heavens belonged to the sky, while earthly energy returned to the land, with spiritual forces existing in between. Over time, mountains, and rivers absorbed the essence of nature, eventually forming a consciousness.

This consciousness was what ancient people called a guardian spirit of the land.

It was surprising that, in an era of advanced technology, such a manifestation still existed on what appeared to be an unremarkable hill.

The mist spoke with an air of arrogance. "As long as you acknowledge me, all is well. This mountain is mine. This path is mine. No one is allowed to enter or leave without my permission."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes and retorted, "Well, my friend and I are already here, aren't we? And last I checked, we're still human."

He hesitated, unsure how to address the woman beside him. Calling her a deity seemed appropriate enough, after all, whether he made it home tonight was entirely up to her.

The mist huffed in frustration. "Nathaniel, you traitor! Liar!"

Then it turned its gaze on Ivy, its form shifting into a pair of floating, unblinking eyes. "And you! You've made me angry, and that could have serious consequences. Without my permission, you'll never leave this mountain!"

It rolled its eyes again before adding, "However... if you agree to play a game with me, perhaps I might reconsider."

Before it could finish speaking, Casper leaped onto the mist and struck it three times with surprising force.

The mist shrieked. "Ouch! Why are you hitting me?!"

Casper didn't let up. As he continued to pummel the mist, he declared, "I'm teaching you a lesson on behalf of my master."

The mist twisted and squirmed, trying to escape, but Casper held on tight. In desperation, it cried out, "I am the guardian of this land! You can't just hit me!"

Casper scoffed. "A guardian? Then I must be the god of mining."

He recalled the mines he had once owned-gold, silver, copper, iron, entire mountains under his control. But one day, he woke up to find them all gone.

Casper struck again. "And you dare to act high and mighty in front of me?"

The mist's color faded under the relentless blows. It finally gave in, pleading, "Brother Casper, I was wrong. I really was."

Only then did Casper stop. Grinning, he dragged the weakened mist over to Ivy. "Boss, what should we do with this little thing?"

Ivy examined it closely.

It was rare for a spirit to take physical form, especially in a place like this-a small hill near an old cemetery.

She tapped the mist lightly and asked, "Since you've gained consciousness, would you like to come with me?"

The mist immediately blurted out, "I am a guardian. I don't associate with humans."

Casper shot it a warning glare, and the mist quickly changed its tone, speaking in a sweet, youthful voice. "Boss, I'd love to follow you~"

After all, there was an old saying, those who recognized their place survived the longest.

Ivy pulled a small piece of yellow paper from her bag, carefully cut out a figure, and blew on it gently. The paper doll landed on the ground, standing upright.

The mist peered at it.

The doll wore a yellow dress, its hair tied into two small buns. It looked lifelike, though its face was blank.

Obediently, the mist slipped inside the paper doll, causing it to twitch before bouncing to life.

"Thanks, boss~" it chirped.

Ivy touched its head and said, "From now on, your name is Jayden."

"Okay, boss." Jayden had lost all traces of its former arrogance and now stuck closely by Ivy's side.

Ivy turned to Nathaniel and asked, "What's your connection to this thing?"

Jayden answered immediately, "Boss, I was bored and wanted someone to play with. Nathaniel agreed to a game, so I brought him here."

Nathaniel snapped, "When did I ever agree to that?"

Jayden looked offended. "You did. In your dream, remember? You even took my flower."

Nathaniel's eyes widened as a memory surfaced. "Wait... that was real?"

Ivy crossed her arms. "Explain."

Nathaniel sighed and began recounting the bizarre events.

Three days ago, after visiting a cemetery with friends, he'd had an unsettling dream.

In the dream, a little girl stood by the roadside, clutching a flower, looking lost.

Nathaniel had asked, "Where are your parents?"

The girl had replied, "I don't have any."

Feeling sorry for her, Nathaniel had taken the flower from her outstretched hand. "Don't worry, I'll play with you for a while."

But the moment he had woken up, he'd found himself in the middle of nowhere, staring at a swirling mass of yellow mist.

Jayden pouted. "Master, I didn't trick him. He came willingly."

Nathaniel fumed. "You tricked me by acting pitiful."

"I did not."

"Yes, you did."

Ivy sighed, tired of the bickering. "Casper, Jayden, go rest for a while."

She twisted a colorful bracelet on her wrist, and instantly, both spirits turned into streaks of light and vanished.

Nathaniel stood frozen in place. This was all a bit much.

Slowly, the realization dawned on him-the woman before him was no ordinary person. She was a powerhouse. A force to be reckoned with.

He should stick close to her while he had the chance.

Tentatively, he asked, "So... can I at least go home before I, you know... get reincarnated?"

Ivy gave him a sidelong glance. "You're not dead. I came to bring you home."

Nathaniel blinked. "Wait... seriously? You came all the way out here just for me?"

Ivy nodded. "Something like that."

Truthfully, she had come for something else-his money.

But rather than demanding payment outright, she simply said, "I did pull you back from the brink of death. You should thank me properly."

Nathaniel nodded eagerly. "Of course. Of course..."

He hesitated. What could he possibly offer someone like her? Money seemed too basic. Jewelry? Too low-class.

Could it be... that she actually liked him?

He sneaked a glance at her. Now that he was looking properly, Ivy was quite striking-tall, elegant, with smooth, flawless skin.

If that was the case... maybe this wasn't so bad after all?

Before he could entertain the thought any further, Ivy shoved him forward.

"Move faster."

Nathaniel stumbled and rolled across the grass, getting a mouthful of dirt.

"So weak. Hurry."

Nathaniel groaned.

Okay, forget the romantic ideas. A person like her was completely out of his league.

With that, he scrambled to his feet and hurried after her.

"Wait for me.

In a private ward of a prestigious hospital, the atmosphere was heavy with tension.

Victory flipped through the medical records, murmuring, Nathaniel has been in a coma for three days. All his test results are normal-brain, heart, lungs-there's no sign of poisoning either...

With every word, Danielle's heart tightened.

Victory wasn't just any doctor. As the heir to the Shaw family, he had been a medical prodigy since childhood, trained by a top neurology expert. If even he was at a loss, what could they do now?

Eleanor gently patted her mother's shoulder in reassurance. Don't worry, Mom. There has to be a way. Nathaniel will wake up.

Danielle forced a faint smile. "Eleanor, you should go get some rest. I'll stay here with Zion."

Benjamin Yates sighed. "I'll keep watch over him. Eleanor, take your mom to rest in the next room."

But Danielle refused to leave.

At that moment, Victory spoke. Nathaniel's condition is like being trapped in sleep. Since we've ruled out all other causes, there's only one explanation left.

"What is it?" Danielle asked urgently.

"Hysterical coma," Victory explained. "In other words, Nathaniel may have experienced something traumatic, something he couldn't bear to face, so his mind has shut him away inside a dream."

That's impossible! Danielle protested. Nathaniel has always been optimistic, and we've never pressured him.

He had always been so bright and full of life. What could have happened to make him retreat from the world entirely?

But for now, hysteria was the only plausible diagnosis.

Benjamin asked anxiously, "Victory, how do we treat it? When will Nathaniel wake up?"

Victory frowned. "Hysteria is psychological. Every case is different. I can't guarantee when-or if-he'll wake up."

Danielle clutched Nathaniel's hand, her tears falling onto his motionless fingers. Nath, what happened to you? Why are you shutting us out? I miss you so much... When you wake up, you can buy as many collectibles as you want...

Suddenly-BANG, BANG, BANG!

The sharp knocking on the door echoed through the room, loud enough to shake the walls.

Eleanor glanced at her parents before rising to answer.

Outside stood a petite girl dressed in an unusual outfit.

Eleanor frowned. "Who are you looking for?"

The girl smiled brightly. "I'm here to bring Nathaniel's soul back to his body."

Nathaniel frantically waved his hands. "Sis! I'm right here! I'm finally back!"

But Eleanor couldn't see or hear him.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"Exactly what it sounds like," Ivy said, pulling Nathaniel into the room. She repeated herself, "I've come to bring Nathaniel back home."

The three people in the hospital room were stunned, their eyes fixed on the unexpected visitor.

Nathaniel was lying unconscious in bed-so what did she mean by bringing him back?

Benjamin's expression darkened. "This is my son's hospital room. You must be in the wrong place."

But Danielle had no time for such concerns. She hurried over to Ivy and grabbed her arm. "Where is my son?"

Benjamin quickly pulled her back. "Danielle, don't listen to this nonsense."

Eleanor stepped in. "I'm sorry, my brother is unwell, and my parents are overwhelmed. Maybe you should leave."

Ivy remained calm. "The body in the bed is just Nathaniel's shell. His spirit is with me."

Benjamin frowned. "Spirit? What are you talking about?"

Ignoring him, Ivy pulled out a charm, flipped her wrist, and pressed it against Nathaniel's ghostly form.

Suddenly, Nathaniel's spirit materialized in front of them. Benjamin and the others recoiled in shock, and even Victory, usually so composed, widened his eyes in disbelief.

Benjamin looked between his unconscious son and the translucent figure before him. His voice shook. "W-what's happening?"

Nathaniel grinned and waved. "Dad! Mom! Eleanor! I'm finally back!"

Danielle reached out to hug him, but her arms passed right through. Tears welled in her eyes. "What's going on?"

"Mom, don't worry, I'm okay," Nathaniel reassured her. "Miss Ivy saved me." He glanced at Ivy and whispered, "You should really thank her properly."

Hearing this, Benjamin's attitude changed instantly. He knew finding someone truly gifted in the supernatural was rare. Regretting his earlier skepticism, he cleared his throat and softened his tone. "Miss Ivy, I apologize for my earlier rudeness. I hope you won't hold it against me."

Ivy barely acknowledged him with a nod. She was used to being doubted at first. Her mentor had always told her to remain detached-people would draw their own conclusions soon enough.

Seeing her aloof demeanor, Benjamin became even more convinced of her extraordinary abilities. Clearly, she was no ordinary person. Perhaps she had foreseen his son's predicament and stepped in to help.

With growing respect, he said, "Miss Ivy, we are truly grateful for what you've done. You've saved our family."

Danielle wiped her tears and added, "Please, can you bring Nathaniel back to us?"

Ivy nodded. "Of course."

She led Nathaniel's spirit to the bedside, took out a talisman, and held it between her fingers. Then, she began to chant:

"Three souls and seven spirits, return to where you belong. Let the forces of protection banish all harm!"

The talisman suddenly burst into flames, and Nathaniel felt himself grow dizzy.

When he opened his eyes again, his family was gathered around him.

He flexed his fingers, then gasped. "Dad! Mom! Eleanor. I'm back. I'm really back."

Danielle hugged him tightly, sobbing in relief. "Miss Ivy, I can't thank you enough."

Meanwhile, Benjamin was deep in thought. A woman of her talents deserved proper gratitude. He considered what valuable gifts they had at home-surely there was something suitable. Experts like her often sought rare treasures.

Carefully, he asked, "Miss Ivy, our family may not have much, but we do have some wealth. If there's anything you want, please don't hesitate to ask."

Ivy held up five fingers. "Cash."

Benjamin blinked. "... What?"

He hadn't expected someone of her stature to be so... practical.

Seeing his father hesitate, Nathaniel quickly chimed in. "Dad, just give her $50,000 already."

Ivy remained composed, but inwardly, she was stunned.

$50,000? She had barely even seen $5,000 in her life.

She had known Nathaniel's family was wealthy, but this was beyond her imagination.

Still, she couldn't accept that much. Not only would it feel wrong, but it might also bring trouble.

Clearing her throat, she said, "That's too much. Just $5,000 will do. In cash."

Benjamin frowned. "That's far too little. How about another $50,000?"

Ivy shook her head. "Our sect has rules-we can't overcharge. This was a simple soul return, not an exorcism. It wouldn't be right to take more."

Benjamin hesitated, but eventually handed over $5,000 in cash. "Miss Ivy, you have my utmost respect. If you ever need anything, the Yate family is in your debt."

Ivy took the money with a nod. "I'll keep that in mind."

Ivy responded calmly, "Let's call it even. I've already been paid for bringing Nathaniel back. If you still feel grateful, why not put that money to good use and donate it to those in need?"

With that, she turned and left the hospital.

Benjamin and the others watched her go, feeling as though even her departing figure carried an air of wisdom and kindness.

At Cloud mist Manor, Ethan stood while two elderly figures sat on the couch.

On the left was his grandfather, George Shaw, and on the right, his grandmother, Margaret Shaw.

Ethan recounted the events of the evening, carefully omitting the part where he had been bitten.

When he finished, George gave a knowing smile. "Ethan, your fiancée has finally appeared."

Ethan frowned, sensing that something was off. His grandfather's reaction was unusually cryptic.

"Granddad, what do you mean by 'fiancée'?"

"Well..." George's gaze shifted slightly. "Do you remember when your grandmother was seriously ill? The illness that suddenly disappeared?"

Of course, Ethan remembered. The Yates household had been thrown into chaos at the time.

With his grandmother hospitalized, and his gran

Chapter 3

Solid Plan

Ivy raised her hand and called out, "Everyone, form a line. No pushing. I'm only doing five readings today."

"What? Only five?" a middle-aged woman asked, sounding disappointed.

Ivy cleared her throat and replied solemnly, "That's just how my practice works."

The truth was, her spiritual energy was running low, and with it, her ability to make money. Making a decent day's income had become nearly impossible.

Her dream of becoming a rich woman had crashed before it even took off.

She made a mental note: once her energy was completely drained, she'd have to sneak a bite out of Ethan under cover of night.

She'd need a solid plan.

First, figure out how to knock Ethan unconscious. Then bite him, cover up the mark with some healing cream, and make sure he never found out.

Shaking her head, Ivy pushed the thought aside and turned her focus back to her readings.

Martha was the first in line.

She'd heard that a gifted psychic had set up shop on Antique Row, the same one who'd helped Mr. Turner find his missing daughter, and she'd shown up before sunrise to make sure she got a spot.

Martha had always been into spiritual readings. She knew how to tell who had the real gift.

Pulling her grandson forward, she said, "Miss Ivy, my grandson's applying to college this year. Could you take a look and see if he'll get in?"

Next to her, Xander looked skeptical. "Grandma, you know my grades. This is pointless. Dad says this stuff's all a scam."

Martha gave him a light smack on the arm. "What do you know, kid? This isn't mumbo jumbo, it's part of our cultural roots."

She straightened her back proudly. "And I'm paying for it myself. Your dad can keep his opinions to himself."

Xander sighed and shoved one hand in his pocket, standing in front of Ivy and staring up at the sky.

Martha smiled apologetically. "Please excuse him. He's just a teenager."

Ivy waved it off. "It's fine. He's young. They're always skeptical."

Xander rolled his eyes. Young? She barely looked older than him. His grandma had clearly lost her mind.

Ivy pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper. "Okay, write a word, any word that comes to mind."

Her mentor had always said: the more methods you used in a reading, the more captivating it became for the onlookers.

Word-based divination was one of them.

The elderly folks adjusted their glasses and squinted with curiosity. They'd never seen this kind of fortune-telling before, and they were fascinated.

Xander impatiently picked up the pen and scribbled the word "Grace" on the paper. "Okay, what now?" he asked gruffly.

Ivy glanced at the word and said, "You're top of your class, right? You should have no problem getting into college."

Hearing that, Martha finally let out the breath she'd been holding.

Xander raised his chin smugly. "I've always been a top student. If I can't get into college, who can? Grandma, you really spent fifty bucks just to hear this? Easiest money she's ever made..."

Martha yanked his ear and snapped, "Mind your mouth!"

"Ouch, ouch! Grandma, that hurts!" Xander yelped, quickly falling silent as he rubbed his ear and sulked off to the side.

Martha turned back with a sheepish smile. "Miss Ivy, what does the word 'Grace' mean?"

Ivy responded calmly, "It holds two meanings."

She leaned forward, her tone shifting into something more mystical. "In symbolic terms, this word reflects both elegance and promise. It's often associated with a bright, prosperous future. For a student like your grandson, it's a sign that his path will unfold smoothly-success in college, and a future lined with opportunity."

Martha beamed. "This boy might not be good for much else, but he sure knows how to hit the books."

Xander puffed up a little more, grinning. "Well, I can't argue with that. She's spot on."

The onlookers chuckled.

"Aunt Martha, are you here for a reading or just to brag about your grandson?"

She waved them off proudly. "You all hush now." Then she turned back. "What's the second meaning, Miss Ivy?"

A sly smile tugged at Ivy's lips. "It can also hint at romance. 'Grace' is typically linked with harmony and love. It could mean your grandson will be lucky in matters of the heart."

"What?!"

Martha immediately grabbed Xander's ear again. "You little rascal! You're dating someone already?!"

Xander was stunned. What the-?! How did she know? Not even his friends at school knew!

"Grandma, seriously! My ear! That hurts!" he yelped.

Martha huffed, hands on her hips. "You can barely handle algebra, but you've got time for romance? Just like your father!"

Xander muttered, "Are you yelling at me or complimenting me?"

With a pitiful look, he turned to Ivy and pleaded, "Miss Ivy, it's real love, I swear."

Martha raised a slipper, ready to swat him. "What do you know about real love, you hormonal little puppy?"

Ivy quickly intervened, "Ma'am, please-let the young ones figure it out themselves. If you interfere too much, it might affect his luck."

She kept her tone calm, though inwardly she guessed the girl's name probably had something similar to "Grace" in it. Still, she chose to keep it to herself to save the poor boy some dignity.

But Martha had years of experience with fortune readings and cut straight to the point. "Miss Ivy, tell me the truth. This girl-she's his soulmate, isn't she?"

Ivy gave a slow nod. "Yes. Your grandson has a strong fortune when it comes to love."

Xander looked like he might cry from relief. "Thank God. And thank you, Miss Ivy, for saving my ear."

Martha laughed and dragged the boy home, still muttering about grades and girlfriends.

In the crowd, a young man with shifty eyes watched the scene closely. Sensing an opportunity, he stepped forward and confidently wrote the same word-"Grace"-on the paper.

"I want to know if I'll get into college too," he said with a smirk.

The man, whose name was Decker, was hoping to trip Ivy up. After all, it was the same word. If she gave him the same reading, he'd catch her bluff and complete the task Master Casey had assigned him.

Ivy looked at the word, then at Decker's face, smiling faintly. "Are you sure you want me to read your future using this word?"

Decker crossed his arms. "Of course I am. Hurry. Or can't you figure it out?"

Ivy replied coolly, "As you wish-payment first, please."

Decker tossed a hundred-dollar bill onto the table and scoffed, "You're not going to fool me that easily. I'm not that gullible."

Ivy gave a small shake of the head and sighed. "You've never had a gift for academics. You've always ranked at the bottom of your class, and you dropped out before even finishing middle school."

Decker bristled. "Why? It's the same word-'Grace.' When you discuss other people, it's all good news. But when it comes to me, suddenly everything's bad? That's pretty insulting."

Ivy looked at the paper and said flatly, "The word you wrote is slanted. The last person wrote it straight and balanced. Yours is twisted, off-center-almost like you added another mark to the side. When that happens, you know what it becomes?"

The onlookers, catching on, responded together, "Hardship."

Only Decker looked confused.

Ivy gave a satisfied nod. "Exactly. It turns into the word 'hardship.'"

Decker frowned. "So what does that even mean for me?"

Ivy's tone was calm, but firm. "It means life won't be easy-not just your education, but your entire path. I can see it in your face. You lost your dad when you were three, your mom at six. Your grandfather passed when you were sixteen, and you had to leave school to work."

"You've scraped by doing whatever you could-odd jobs, cutting corners, bullying weaker kids, even stealing from your neighbors. You've drifted through life, never really settling down. You're headed for a lonely end, with no roots and no support."

Decker's expression cracked. "Stop... I would rather not hear anymore."

It was all true. He'd been a petty thief, working dead-end jobs-hauling bricks, tightening screws, picking through junk for anything worth selling.

Was that really how it all ended? So, bleak?

Decker forgot all about the job Casey Dalton had given him. He stared at Ivy, desperate. "Is there anything I can do to change this? I would rather not live like that."

Ivy nodded. "Fate might be fixed, but your choices shape your future. The bad things you've done have chipped away at your luck. Turn it around. Live honestly. Do right by others. That's how you change direction."

Decker swallowed hard and whispered, "I'll remember that."

He ran off in tears.

The master hadn't tried to sell him a charm or a cure-just told him the truth and pointed him toward something better. To hell with Casey Dalton and all his assignments.

Decker decided then and there: he'd start over. From now on, he'd be Wade Forsythe-a new man with nothing to hide.

As the sun dipped lower, Ivy read a few more fortunes before finally packing up for the day.

The older folks hanging around were reluctant to leave.

"That master doesn't just tell your fortune," one man chuckled. "Even his peanuts and sunflower seeds taste better. I could eat three bowls of rice after a visit here."

"Will you be back tomorrow, Master?" someone asked.

Ivy laughed and waved. "Don't worry-I'll be here bright and early."

"Great! See you tomorrow."

When the crowd finally dispersed, Ivy tidied up his stall and wandered off searching for something good to eat.

He followed the rich, savory smell drifting through the street and stopped at a small deli cart.

"Give me a little of everything-jerky, pickled eggs, roasted veggies, and about three pounds of smoked ribs."

The owner, Jude, grinned and packed up the order. "You don't have to pay today, Master. Business has picked up a lot since you started setting up nearby. People pass through now on their way home, thanks to you."

Ivy glanced at the man's broad face, honest eyes, and sturdy hands. A good man, through and through. But something about his family line gave him pause.

He frowned slightly and said, "Jude, you'd better pack up and head home right away. Something's not right... I think your kid might be in trouble."

Jude turned pale and anxiously asked, "Master, what happened to my daughter?"

"It looks like she fell into the water. You'd better hurry and check the pond near your house!" Ivy continued, "Go on, I'll keep an eye on your stall for you."

"Thank you, Master. I'm so grateful."

Jude trusted her completely and ran off without even removing her apron.

Ivy sat down by the stall and started munching on smoked turkey legs. Aunt Margaret wandered over and peeked in. "Oh my, Master, are you switching to selling barbecue now?"

With a mouthful of food, Ivy mumbled, "The owner had an emergency. If you like to buy something, weigh it out yourself and drop the money in the box."

Aunt Margaret, familiar with the routine, began weighing out vegetables and adding seasoning. "Master, I'll help you sell. I'm a regular here, I know what everyone likes."

Speaking of Jude, that woman's had a rough life. She works hard and holds everything together, but her husband and mother-in-law? Ugh, not worth a kind word...

As Ivy finished the turkey leg and moved on to a slab of ribs, she finally understood why the older folks loved to gossip.

Aunt Margaret, growing more animated, continued spilling the tea about Jude's home life.

"Master, I bet you didn't know, Jude's husband is a deadbeat gambler, always glued to the poker tables. Never lifts a finger to help. Jude's been the breadwinner for years."

And her mother-in-law? You can tell just by looking, nasty woman. Always picking on Jude, never shows a lick of affection for her granddaughter...

Meanwhile, Jude had reached the pond behind her house, a neglected area that hardly anyone ever went near.

As soon as the Master had mentioned water, this spot flashed through her mind. Jude had always warned her daughter to stay away from it.

Lovett had always been an obedient child. What would draw her to a place like that?

Running, she pulled out her phone and called Simon. "Hello? Where's Lovett? Let me talk to her!"

Simon barked back, annoyed, "How would I know where that girl ran off to? Don't interrupt me when I'm on a hot streak!"

Jude's heart pounded as frustration bubbled up. "Simon, stop playing cards and go check the pond out back. Lovett might be in trouble."

"Why should I look for her? She never listens to me. Let her do what she wants."

Muttering under his breath, Simon cursed, "Damn it! Lost again! Jude, you jinx-you've ruined my luck! Just wait until I get home and show you what's coming..."

Before he could finish, Jude hung up on him.

Fuming, Simon tossed his cards across the table and stormed out. "Oh, now you've got guts? Hanging up on me, huh? We'll see about that!"

Meanwhile, Jude, distracted and panicked, accidentally bumped into her mother-in-law, Dorothy Morgan.

Dorothy screeched, "Hey! Who do you think you are, running around like a blind fool!"

When she realized it was Jude, her tone shifted into her usual sneering. "Jude, look at the time. Shouldn't you be working? What the hell are you doing here?"

Jude didn't bother responding, but Dorothy grabbed her arm tightly. "What, you're ignoring me now? Lost all respect, have you? Who are you here to see, huh? Some secret boyfriend? Let me see who the lucky guy is!"

Dorothy's rant only made Jude more agitated. She finally snapped, "I'm looking for my daughter. Where's Lovett?"

Dorothy rolled her eyes. "Where else would she be? She's at home. What kid would be out here?"

Something didn't sit right with Jude. "Then what are you doing here?"

Dorothy scoffed. "What I do is none of your business. Get back to your chores, or you'll regret it."

Desperate and furious, Jude pushed past her.

Dorothy instantly dropped to the ground with a dramatic wail, clutching her hip. "Oh Lord. She hit me. Did you see that? Attacked her mother-in-law. Someone call the police-Jude's gone mad."

But Jude ignored her theatrics and ran straight toward the pond.

Dorothy's eyes widened.

Why was Jude acting like this? She'd never stood up to her before. Something was definitely wrong.

Panic rising, Dorothy scrambled to her feet and chased after her, pretending to limp along.

Her earlier screams had already drawn a crowd.

"There she goes again, stirring up trouble," one neighbor muttered.

"Jude should've cut ties with those two ages ago," another added. "She's too soft for her own good."

"Come on, let's go see what the old witch is up to this time."

By the time they arrived at the pond, Lovett was flailing in the water, crying, "Mom. Mom. Help me."

"I'm coming, baby." Jude shouted, diving in without hesitation.

Dorothy hissed under her breath, "Damn it. Why'd she have to show up now?"

A dark thought flickered in her mind, what if both Jude and the kid went under? That would be the end of it...

But the crowd rushing closer made her abandon the idea. She stood to the side, cold, and silent.

Realizing the danger, the neighbors jumped into action. "Over here. Someone fell in."

Together, they pulled Jude and Lovett from the muddy, foul-smelling water. Soaked and shivering, Jude didn't care about herself-she immediately turned to her daughter.

Lovett coughed up water, then burst into tears and threw her arms around her mother. "Mom... Grandma pushed me in."

Jude's heart shattered.

"I told you not to go near the water. Why were you even there?" she asked, wiping the mud from Lovett's face.

Lovett sobbed, "Grandma said she wanted to show me something... then she pushed me in."

Dorothy's face twisted in fury.

Little brat. She's nothing but trouble.

But she put on her best innocent act, bursting into tears. "Lies. The girl's making up stories already? Jude, look at the monster you're raising, no shame at all."

Jude's eyes turned red with rage. She grabbed Dorothy by the hair and slapped her hard across the face. "You've always hated Lovett. And now you tried to kill her."

"I did no such thing."

Dorothy screamed, "How did the Morgan family end up with a banshee like you? Look, everyone. This is who Jude really is."

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Three more slaps.

"If protecting Lovett makes me a shrew, I'll wear the title with pride."

Unable to hit back, Dorothy howled, "She's trying to kill me. Someone help."

But the bystanders kept their heads down. No one stepped in. Everyone there had, at one point or another, been the target of Dorothy's gossip and cruelty.

When help didn't come, Dorothy snapped. She lunged at Jude, pulling her hair and screaming, "What's the point of having a girl? Girls are useless. Just hens that don't lay eggs. I'll make sure Simon throws you out."

Just then, Simon came charging over. "Jude. What the hell are you doing? Let go of my mom."

Dorothy immediately perked up, fueled by her son's arrival. "See, Simon? Look what your wife's turned into, hitting your mother in public."

Simon's face darkened with rage. He raised his hand to strike Jude, but the crowd held him back.

"Enough." he roared. "We're done, Jude. I want a divorce."

"Fine" Jude snapped. She let go of Dorothy, stepped right up to Simon, and slapped him-once on each cheek.

"One for Lovett. And one for me."

"You, you, you crazy woman."

Simon struggled against the people holding him back, furious and humiliated.

"You're dead, Jude. I swear, I'll make you pay."

But Jude had already calmed down. Borrowing a phone, she called the police.

"I need to report a crime. My mother-in-law tried to hurt my daughter, and my husband has a history of gambling and soliciting prostitutes."

Simon knelt on both knees, only one thought remaining in his mind: I'm done for! Currently, Dorothy finally felt fear. She barely squeezed out a smile, more pathetic than a tearful face, and said, "Jude, we are family." Jude held Lovett tightly and said coldly, "From now on, we are not family, but mortal enemies." Dorothy's eyes widened, muttering to herself, "This is really the end." The police arrived quickly and took them away. Jude needed to go to the police station to give a statement. She begged the police to make a brief stop at Antique Street.

At this time, Ivy had finished a bag of chicken, two bags of vegetables, and three bags of chicken wings. She yawned, did a quick calculation, and muttered, "Jude should have finished dealing with it by now." As soon as she finished speaking, Jude walked over and said, Master, thanks for your reminder, otherwise Lovett... Ivy patted her shoulder and comforted her, "Don't cry, it's all over." Jude wiped her tears, wanted to say that she didn't need help with the stall, but noticed that all the braised dishes were sold out. Ivy explained, "Aunt Margaret helped to weigh them; you go back and check the money, I will take care of the remaining chicken wings."

Jude couldn't help but laugh and cry, "Thank you, Master. I'll take care of your braised dishes from now on."

"Sure," Ivy patted her belly, took out a Protection Amulet and handed it to her, "Children are easily shocked when they fall into water. Put this under your pillow, it will help you sleep peacefully and prevent nightmares."

Jude clutched the Protection Amulet tightly, made a deep bow, and said, "Master, you truly are my life savior."

"Alright, alright, hurry on, your daughter is still waiting for you." Ivy waved her hands and leisurely made her way home. Today she had made five thousand, and after donating half, she was left with two thousand five hundred. After deducting miscellaneous expenses, she still had twenty thousand on hand. In her village, she would be considered wealthy. Ivy cheered herself up, "Today isn't too shabby, surely tomorrow will be even better."

Just as she arrived at the entrance of her house, she saw a row of cars parked there. A sense of unease washed over her, and she contemplated slipping away. She was mistaken; tomorrow was probably going to be disastrous. Suddenly, Ethan popped out, staring at her emotionlessly.

"Ivy, you're really difficult to find."

Ivy laughed nervously, "CEO Shaw, what brings you here?"

Ethan stared at her uns