Chapter <b>109 </b>


    “So you’ve got such a silver tongue–maybe you should start hitting up your dad for money instead?”


    Oliver was the undisputed boss when it came to handing out allowances to the three little rascals at home. Their own parents couldn’t keep them in line; meanwhile, the kids were basically glued to


    Oliver’s side.


    Why? Because he was generous. Their personal ATM.


    Colton looked like he was about to say something else, but before he could get a word out, Sara pped a hand over his mouth. “Uncle Oliver, ignore him. He’s talking nonsense. I’ll take him to get his brain checked. Aunt Patricia just got back, why don’t you go upstairs and keep herpany?”


    “Yeah, go, Uncle Oliver! Aunt Patricia’s probably waiting for you,” Roger chimed in, nudging Oliver toward the stairs.


    As soon as Oliver disappeared into the elevator, Roger yanked Colton into his room, wagging a finger at him. “We’re all in this together, man. Don’t mess up our cash flow.”


    Colton grabbed a tissue and wiped his mouth, not even trying to hide his curiosity. “Aren’t you guys even a little bit curious about who Aunt Patricia actually is?”


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    Sara and Roger exchanged a look.


    Curious? Absolutely. But neither dared to ask. It felt like one wrong question and they’d be cut off for


    life.


    “I’m not curious,” Roger mumbled, but he was clearly lying. “I just want to know if Uncle Oliver’s still going to give us money now that he’s married.”


    Sara shook her head so hard her ponytail whipped back and forth. “I’m getting this terrible feeling


    that we’re about to be broke.”


    Colton was practically buzzing with gossip and had no intention of keeping it to himself. “What if I told you Aunt Patricia is Theo’s ex–wife–the one who stripped her ex and dumped him naked at thepany entrance?”


    Sara’s eyes went wide, practically sparking with excitement.


    Roger stared at him in disbelief. “Wait, how do you know that?”


    Colton sighed dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead. “Because she’s the one who told me to do it. Honestly, what a savage. And now she’s my Aunt Patricia.”


    Sara leaned forward, eyes shining. “Okay, but when did you get the inside scoop?”


    “Three years ago.” Colton let out another sigh. “Aunt Patricia is Uncle Zhan’s niece. Uncle Zhan asked Uncle Oliver to look after her, and, well, Uncle Oliver took ‘looking after her‘ all the way to getting her name on his marriage certificate.”


    Roger whistled. “Guess there’s a difference between looking after someone on paper and, you know, taking care of them in bed.”


    Colton groaned, looking even more troubled.


    11:20


    Upstairs.


    Patricia stood in the living room of the suite, looking lost–she didn’t know whether to sit <i>or </i>stand. The ce was new to her, and it showed.


    When Oliver came up, he found her standing motionless in front of the sofa, clearly feeling awkward.


    “You in trouble or something?” he teased.


    “No,” Patricia replied quickly. “Are they okay? Did you tell your family about the marriage?”


    “I told them,” Oliver said, gently pressing her down to sit on the sofa. “They just need some time to process it.”


    A momentter, Johns came in with a tray of tea and set it down for them.


    “Is it because I’m not the Aunt Patricia they were expecting?” Patricia asked, her voice soft.


    Oliver nced at her, calm and unreadable. “They weren’t expecting anyone.”


    Patricia realized how odd that sounded, like she thought she was just thetest in a string of girlfriends.


    “There’s never been anyone else,” Oliver said, straightforward as ever. “No exes. No drama.”


    After all the games and mind–reading in herst marriage, Patricia wasn’t used to someone being so


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    Oliver poured her a cup of tea. “Honestly, they’re just worried I’ll stop giving them money now that I’m married.”


    Patricia just stared at him, speechless.


    “Be careful around them,” Oliver warned, a hint of a smile ying at his lips. “They’re masters at sweet–talking people out of cash–especially Sara.”


    Sara? That girl from earlier?


    Patricia nodded. “Understood.”


    Oliver looked her over. The neckline of her gray dress was bare, not a single essory. Maybe she’d gotten bitten by mosquitoes on the way in–he noticed a few fresh red marks where she’d scratched her corbone.