I looked at the boy I had raised for ten years. A boy who once clung to me, soft and sweet, calling me Auntie Nadine with adoration in his eyes. A boy who used to say that heaven must have made a mistake—because the mother he chose should have been me. A boy who once told me that fate had finally corrected itself by bringing me into his life.
And now? Now he looked at me like I was his worst enemy. But none of it mattered anymore. It was almost over.
I swallowed back my emotions. The two of them stood there, waiting, making it clear that if I refused to cook, they wouldn’t let it go.
Bitterness rose in my throat, but I forced a laugh, “At least push me downstairs first.”
David let out a cold chuckle and waved over a servant.
“Don’t use this as an excuse to get close to me.”
***
In the kitchen, Yvonne strolled in casually, acting like she owned the place.
“Thanks for looking after my home, sis,” she said, flashing a saccharine smile.
“When you leave, I’ll tell David to give you some extra money.”
She flicked her fingers toward the menu as if she were placing an order at a high-end restaurant.
“Keep it simple, okay? You know my tastes—blood bird’s nest porridge, braised sea cucumber, king crab. Nothing too complicated.”
A nearby maid hesitated before speaking.
“But, Miss Xander… those dishes take hours to prepare. Just handling the ingredients alone will take at least four or five hours. And you don’t allow us to help—”
Yvonne arched a perfectly sculpted brow.
“So what you’re saying is… I don’t deserve to eat them?”
Outside, my parents’ voices cut through the air.
“Nadine! Your sister just got back and you can’t even do this one little thing for her?!”
I told myself it didn’t matter. I told myself over and over again.
But standing there, in the face of their blatant favoritism, my heart still ached.
'However, this is the last time.' I thought.
I looked straight into Yvonne’s eyes. “I’m leaving tomorrow. You don’t need to waste any more time trying to make me suffer.”
Yvonne’s eyes lit up with joy.
“You said it yourself—I never forced you to leave.”
She clapped her hands together, feigning generosity. “Fine, I’ll let the maids help you this time.”
With that, she strolled away, her entourage eagerly calling after her.
I turned back to the kitchen, where the staff watched me with a mix of pity and hesitation.