?Chapter 56:


    At the bay-front vi, after ending the call, Christina turned back to the stunned group with a smirk tugging at her lips. “Did you hear that? That’s the kind of man I roll with,” she said, eyes gleaming. “And don’t even get me started on this measly bay-front vi. If I felt like it, I could move into a mansion at Cloudcrest Heights before sunset.”


    The group stared at Christina in disbelief, but she didn’t flinch. She knew if she so much as whispered a word about King, her hidden identity, the powerful elite of Cloudcrest Heights would be scrambling to hand her their keys and beg her to take their million-dor properties off their hands. After all, she could do what no world-renowned doctor could: cheat death. She didn’t sell medicine. She sold time. And to billionaires, a few more years of life was worth more than anything they owned.


    “Christina, you’re being reckless again, pretending to have a phone call with some affluent elderly gentleman,” Ynda said gently, her brows furrowed in mock concern as she made a subtle attempt to smear Christina’s reputation. “Be careful. Not everyone has good intentions, and some might leech onto you for life…”


    Katie rolled her eyes and jerked Ynda aside. “Are you stupid or what? Why are you still worried about her?” she hissed. “Let her crash and burn! If she wants to throw herself off a cliff, don’t offer her a parachute!”


    “Exactly, Ynda!” Joselyn cut in, her voice heavy with disdain as she shook her head. “Don’t waste your kindness on someone like Christina. Tramps like her don’t seepassion—they see a stepping stone. She’ll use your goodwill to w her way up.”


    Finnegan let out a scoff, lips curled in a sneer. “She’s clearly putting on a show. A mansion on Cloudcrest Heights? That was a dead giveaway that she’s bluffing. Even the Hubbard family—the wealthiest in Dorfield—lives at the base tier. And she expects us to believe she could worm her way into their circle?” He chuckled darkly. “A divorced woman with no name and no backing? Please.”


    What no one knew—what Finnegan would never admit—was that he and his wife hadn’te to town just to visit Brendon in his hospital bed. That was the excuse. Their true aim was the uing Hubbard banquet, which celebrated the joy of locating a long-missed daughter. The Mitchell Group was hemorrhaging money. One connection, one introduction, could save it. The Hubbards were thest rope keeping the Mitchell Group from copsing.


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    And now there were whispers—dangerous whispers—that Samuel Graham, a kingmaker from Dorfield, would be attending.


    Finnegan doubted Christina had any connection with the Hubbard family. Unless, of course, she was the long-lost daughter the Hubbards were preparing to wee home.


    Finnegan nearlyughed aloud at the thought. He had his own sources; Christina wasn’t even a blip on the Hubbard radar.


    “Everyone knows that the people who live on Cloudcrest Heights aren’t just rich. They’re untouchable,” She added, her nose tilted arrogantly. “If someone like Christina could charm her way into that circle, then her daughter would’ve been the Hussain family’s mistress a long time ago.”


    “Let’s not forget—this house? Christina only got to live in it because of my brother. Now she’s dreaming of Cloudcrest Heights? Delusional doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Katie folded her arms and leaned in with a smirk.


    “I’m staying right here,” Katie snapped, arms crossed defiantly. “Christina, let us see how long you actuallyst in this neighborhood.”


    To Katie, this was just another one of Christina’s desperate charades—some pitiful attempt to save face with a well-rehearsed lie. The mansions in this neighborhood were worth tens of millions. How could a jobless, cast-off woman like Christina afford even a corner of one?


    In Katie’s eyes, Christina was beneath her—pathetic, unworthy. But Christina didn’t flinch. She cocked a brow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “So that’s it? You’re all really going to welch on a bet?”


    Finnegan flinched. “W-what bet? We didn’t agree to anything like that.”


    “You did,” Christina said coolly. “Each of you—one million. That was the deal. Now, pay up.” Her gaze slid to Brendon like a dagger dipped in silk. “Hey, care to be chivalrous and cover their bill?” she said, voice dripping with mockery.


    Brendon’s brows knotted. “What the hell is going on?”


    Christina didn’t bother answering. She didn’t need to. “A bet’s a bet. A debt’s a debt,” she continued, her tone ice-cold. “If five million’s too much for you to stomach, that’s fine. Just don’t me me when this hits the inte.”


    Her stare swept over the group like a de. “You have 24 hours. One day. If I don’t see that money in my ount by then…” She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. “I will go public.”


    Her smile was wicked. “And when Mitchell and Dawson stocks start tanking, five million will look like pocket change.”


    After everything Brendon had put her through, Christina felt she had shown more mercy than any of these people deserved.


    Brendon’s voice sharpened, frustration seeping in as he turned to his mom and the others. “What the hell happened here?” Since Christina refused to borate, he sought answers elsewhere.


    Finnegan let out an exaggerated sigh, as if the weight of Christina’s words were some unbearable injustice. “Brendon, don’t let her manipte you. There was no bet—she’s making it up.”


    “Yeah, she’s just—” Joselyn tried to badmouth Christina, but the moment Brendon’s re snapped to her, she fell silent.


    “Enough!” Brendon’s voice was sharp, clipped. His eyes settled on Ynda. “Tell me the truth.”


    Ynda felt her throat tighten. She wanted—desperately—to twist the story, but one look at Brendon told her it would be useless. Worse—Christina had proof, that damned surveince footage…


    “Brendon…” Ynda’s voice cracked as she slipped into her theatrical acting again. “We did make a bet with Christina. And we… we lost.” Tears brimmed in her eyes, and when she looked at him, it wasn’t just guilt—it was fear. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”


    Brendon’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the group with disdain. “You lost, so pay what you owe. Or are you really trying to cheat your way out of it?”


    His tone dripped with contempt. Their shamelessness didn’t just disgust him—it embarrassed him, especially in front of Christina.


    “N-no! Of course not!” Ynda stammered, her fingers fumbling for her phone. “I’ll transfer it—right now. Please, Brendon, don’t be angry.”


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