“Coffee.”
I didn’t move.
She snapped again.
“Emily.”
One cousin gave an awkward laugh.
Daniel leaned toward me.
“Just do it.”
I looked at him.
“Ask properly.”
Patricia’s face tightened.
“You live under my roof.”
I smiled faintly.
“Actually, according to county property records, this residence belongs to the Whitmore Legacy Trust.”
The room went silent.
Patricia recovered quickly.
“And?”
“And nothing.”
I stood and poured the coffee.
She laughed, convinced she had won.
Later that evening, Daniel cornered me upstairs.
“Don’t embarrass my mother again.”
“Or what?”
His expression changed.
“For someone who came into this marriage with considerably less than we have, you’re becoming very comfortable.”
That almost made me laugh.
Daniel knew I had a successful career.
What he didn’t know was that the previous year, I had sold my minority stake in my former
