?Chapter 1471:


    Keira’s house had stood empty for some time, so Sandra dedicated hours to scrubbing it spotless.


    After that, she and her mother sat down. Sandra sighed. “Mom, you really upset Andres today. He’s ignoring my calls and messages now. It took me ages to find a boyfriend, and now my rtionship with him is ruined because of you.”


    Keira, unfazed, replied coolly, “If you two part ways, it’s for the best. He is not worthy of you. Who does he think he is? The Harper family is in a league of its own, and he dares to ignore your calls and messages like this? Mark my words—give him a day without contact, and he’lle crawling back. Don’t stoop to chasing him. You’re a Harper—only someone extraordinary is fit to be your boyfriend. Andres doesn’t measure up.”


    Though Keira’s words stung with their bluntness, Sandra couldn’t ignore the truth in them. As a member of the prestigious Harper family, she had no need to grovel before Andres, whose own lineage paled inparison.


    After mulling it over, she resolved to heed her mother’s advice.


    “Mom, since you have only one hand, daily tasks must be a struggle for you. Shall I hire someone to take care of you?” Sandra said.


    Keira waved off the suggestion. “No need for that. I can manage just fine with one hand. Why squander money when you’re not exactly rolling in it? I’ll get by.” When Sandra departed, she left two thousand dors for Keira, cautious not to leave more, lest her mother fritter it away on gambling.


    Back at the Harper family house, dinner was underway. Sandra greeted each family member warmly before taking a seat beside Brenna.


    The mood at the table was noticeably somber, with Giselle’s expression particrly dark.


    Shepard reached into his coat and produced a bank card, sliding it toward Sandra. “Here is ten million dors for your personal use,” he said. “Let’s put an end to any talk that the Harper family is mistreating you.”


    Your next story starts here g?lnσν???s?c?m


    Sandra sat frozen, her eyes wide with disbelief as she looked at Shepard. The Harper family was actually offering her money—a gesture that left her reeling. “Dad, I’ve never spoken ill of the family,” she said softly, her voice tinged with sincerity.


    A realization dawned on her; their grim expressions might stem from whispers they had caught, rumors that had soured their moods.


    Was Shepard offering her money because of the pressure of the rumors? If that was true, did that mean the Harpers’ resentment toward her had deepened?


    With a gentle push, she slid the bank card back across the table. “Dad, I truly don’t need it. My expenses are few, and the family provides everything I could want. Honestly, I don’t need the money.”


    Shepard’s face clouded, his brow furrowing. “Keep it,” he said, his tone firm. “You’re still my daughter, and it’s only proper for me to support you. But you must stop spreading nonsense. An old friend even asked me about it today. If it’s not you telling everyone that you are mistreated, then who?”


    .


    .


    .