The day my son brought his girlfriend home, I turned down a hundred-million-dollar partnership deal.

I cooked dinner myself to welcome them and even prepared a full set of gold jewelry as a gift for the girl. But the moment she sat down, she turned to my daughter—still in college—and started taking shots.

"Mrs. Sullivan, I heard you spend two million a year on your daughter. Piano, horseback riding, fencing, skiing... and for what? She'll just end up benefiting some other family's son."

"It's a losing investment, if you ask me. You'd be better off saving that money and buying a few properties for your soon-to-be grandson."

When I didn't respond, she went straight for the jugular.

"I'm carrying the Sullivan family's only male heir in three generations. If you want me to marry into this family, you'd better hand over half the fortune as a wedding fund."

My son, James Sullivan, didn't try to rein her in. Instead, he backed her up with a threat.

"Mom, since you clearly can't see reason, Meryl and I will move out after the wedding. And you can forget about ever seeing your grandchild."

My chopsticks paused for two seconds. I looked up and spoke calmly.

"No need to wait until after the wedding. You can both get out. Now."

An ungrateful dog that bites the hand that feeds it doesn't deserve to be fed.

——

"The Sullivan family has a rule passed down through generations: daughters are to be raised with every advantage."

"Meryl, if that doesn't sit well with you, then cling to James for dear life. Wait for him to build something from nothing, and when he's made his own money, he can spend every last cent on you and your child."

I went back to placing food on my daughter's plate, unhurried and deliberate.

Meryl Donaldson's face turned a shade of green. She kept jabbing James in the ribs with her elbow.

"Say something! You're the one who promised I'd be running this household the second I walked through the door."

James stole a glance at me, then stammered out his words.

"Mom, I'm only thinking of what's best for you."

"Dad passed away young. You raised me and my sister all on your own while managing over a thousand employees. Twenty years of carrying everything on your shoulders. Don't you think it's time to rest?"

"Meryl grew up helping run her family's shop, keeping the books. With her in charge, you won't have a thing to worry about."

When I said nothing, he shifted his gaze to Madge Sullivan. Then he looked down at the bowl of chicken soup in front of me.

"Sis, how many times have I told you? Mom has a bad stomach. She shouldn't be drinking soup with her meals. Why can you never remember? And you keep putting it right in front of her."

"No wonder they say a married daughter is like water poured out the door. When Mom's old and needs someone to take care of her day and night, that's going to fall on me and your sister-in-law."

Madge took after me in temperament. She wasn't someone you could push around.

She fired back without hesitation. "Have you lost your mind? Ever since you got involved with this woman, you've been siphoning money from the company's finance department to buy her luxury cars and mansions."

"Mom's been more than lenient with you, turning a blind eye every single time."

"And now you have the nerve to bring a gold-digger home to fight over the family fortune? Do you have any conscience left at all?"

His little scheme laid bare, James flushed red, then went white, frozen in place.

It was the outsider, Meryl, who had plenty of volume to spare. She leapt to her feet and planted herself in front of her man, hands on her hips, voice loud enough to rattle the windows.

"Madge Sullivan, who do you think you are? Talking to your older brother like that? And you call yourself a young lady from a prominent family—you don't have an ounce of class."

"Your mother wasted her money sending you to etiquette school. Twenty years old and still leeching off your parents. Shameless."

"Enough!"

I slammed my chopsticks down on the table.

The air in the room turned to ice.

Meryl's face went pale. She clutched her stomach and sank backward, collapsing limply into James's arms.

"Honey, I know you're good to me and the baby, but someone in this house clearly doesn't want us here. Maybe I should just leave."

James held Meryl securely in his arms. He didn't challenge me right away.

Instead, he put on the act of a dutiful son caught in the middle, carefully pleading with me to accept his wife and child.

"Mom, I know Meryl's background isn't great and you think she's not good enough for me, but we're in love. You have to learn to respect her. Give her a proper bride price so I can marry her with some dignity."

When something was so absurd it defied words, all you could do was laugh.

"I've said it before. When it comes to a daughter-in-law for the Sullivan family, I don't care about background, looks, or education. But there's one thing I won't compromise on: basic decency."

I glanced at Meryl and shook my head.

"Take a good look at what you brought home. Every other word out of her mouth is about money."

Meryl's eyes went wide the second she heard that. James tried to hold her back, but there was no stopping her. She flipped the table and jabbed a finger at my face, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Pearl Abbott! No wonder you were widowed so young. God was punishing you! No man will ever want you for the rest of your miserable life. And your daughter's going to end up just like you, an old maid begging some deadbeat to take her in!"

"That's enough, Meryl. No matter what, she's still an elder. Watch your mouth."

James pulled her behind him, trying to figure out how to play peacemaker.

But before he could get a word out, I picked up a half-full bowl of hot soup from the wreckage on the floor and threw it straight in his face without blinking.

"Consider that a reminder. Bring trash into this house, and nobody's going to coddle you."

The greasy broth slid down James's fair skin, dripping one drop at a time onto his expensive tailored suit.

Even Meryl, who had been baring her teeth just moments ago, stood frozen with her hand clamped over her mouth, barely daring to breathe.

James forced down the rage boiling inside him and wiped the grease from his face, bit by bit.

Then he turned to me with an ingratiating smile.

But I was the only one who knew that beneath that smile, he was ice-cold to the bone.

"Mom, I can't help it if you don't like Meryl. But she's already my wife. We got our marriage license this morning. If hitting me and yelling at me makes you feel better, then your son will take it."

"The baby in Meryl's belly is your grandchild. Once the baby's born, I don't believe for a second you won't adore it."

"When that day comes, you'll be the one bending over backward to make nice with Meryl, apologizing to her. So why make things this ugly now?"

I sat with my arms wrapped around my knees and studied the man standing before me, so full of righteous conviction.

"Since you're married, that means you've started your own household. From now on, you'll support your wife and child with your own money."

"Butler, pack up the young master's belongings. And call the finance department at the company. Freeze every bank account under his name. He gets a hundred thousand dollars as a settling-in allowance. That's it."

Ever since James met Meryl, he had poured every ounce of himself into her.

At first, I had supported his freedom to love whoever he chose.

I had even taken the share transfer documents I'd prepared for him out of the safe before this meeting.

But Meryl, emboldened by her out-of-wedlock pregnancy, had walked through my door and immediately tried to lord it over me.

Well then. A daughter-in-law like that was more than I cared to deal with.

And the ungrateful son who'd turned his back on his own family? I was done with him too.

The next day, sunlight poured through the windows, and the house felt spacious again.

Madge and I headed to an antique restoration shop to pick up the Heirloom Locket that had been there for repairs the past two weeks.

"My sweet girl, you'll be heading overseas for school soon. Keep this gold locket with you at all times. Your grandmother left it for you. It'll keep you safe."

I carefully helped Madge put on the Heirloom Locket, but before I could fasten the clasp, a figure came rushing out of nowhere and snatched the gold locket right out of my hands.

"Something this nice—why should she get it?"

I stood frozen, staring blankly at the woman across from me, dressed to the nines. Four months pregnant, and Meryl was still teetering on four-inch stilettos.

"What are you doing here? Give that back!" Madge snapped, unable to contain her fury. She lunged forward to grab the locket back.

But James, who had strolled in behind Meryl without a care in the world, seized Madge by the wrist and yanked her aside.

"My dear little sister, have you no shame at all? You're about to become an aunt, and here you are fighting your own nephew for a trinket. Honestly, I'm embarrassed for you."

Meryl clutched the gold locket tight, her face twisted into a smug, insufferable grin.

"Exactly, Madge. You're a girl—sooner or later you'll marry into someone else's family. What's the point of you wearing a gold locket this valuable? It's a waste, plain and simple."

"Your brother already told me—this is the most precious heirloom the Sullivan family owns. It should go to the baby in my belly. That's what you call returning something to its rightful owner."

Madge's face had gone pale. James's grip had left her wrist red and raw, but he showed no sign of letting up.

"Come on, sis. Snatching things from your sister-in-law isn't a good look. Go ahead—apologize to her."

At those words, Madge turned to stare at him. Her eyes brimmed with hurt and disbelief.

Meryl was already basking in her victory, certain the locket was hers.

I looked up, a cold, derisive smile cutting across my face. My gaze could have frozen steel.

"Since when does an outsider get to decide what happens to Sullivan family heirlooms?"

"Madge is my precious daughter. Whether she marries, whether she wears the locket—that has absolutely nothing to do with you or whatever's in your belly."

"Hand the locket back. Now. Otherwise, I'll report you for robbery in broad daylight. You're not stupid—you know that unlawful possession of someone else's property over a certain value is a criminal offense. That means prison time."

Before I even finished, Meryl dropped her head and began to sniffle. Within seconds she was sobbing like her heart had shattered, throwing herself into James's arms.

"Honey, even if Mom doesn't like me, does she really have to threaten me like this? I'm carrying a Sullivan baby! Even if I'm too clumsy with words to win her over, the child is innocent, isn't it?"

James's brow furrowed with concern. He reached out and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Don't be scared. I'm here. Nobody's going to touch a hair on your head."

That only made Meryl cry harder. Eyes rimmed red, she pressed the gold locket back into James's hand, her voice small and trembling with practiced grief.

"Take it back. I know I come from nothing. I'm not good enough for you, and I'm not good enough for the Sullivan family. Tomorrow, take me to the hospital and I'll get rid of the baby. Then we'll go straight to the courthouse and file for divorce."

She lowered her lashes, dabbing at her tears with the meekness of a saint. "Honey, I love you too much. I can't stand watching you fight with your mother over me. Just marry someone she approves of and live a good life. Don't worry about me. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters."

There was an old saying: a woman's tears, wielded just right, could break any man's resolve.

A pushover like James never stood a chance against a master manipulator like Meryl.

The next second, he grabbed the gold locket and hurled it to the ground with all his strength. His eyes bulged with rage as he whipped around and screamed at me.

"Is that what you want, Mom? You won't stop until you've driven Meryl away? If anything—anything—happens to her or the baby, you're a murderer! I will never forgive you for the rest of my life!"

James stormed off with Meryl on his arm, still ranting about how I always played favorites.