Chapter 183

The car came to a gentle stop outside the school gates.

Margaret Evans rolled down the window and waved at Chloe Valentine. "Remember to eat on time. Don't skip meals."

"Understood, Mrs. Evans." Chloe nodded obediently.

As the window rose, Margaret's smile vanished instantly.

"Let's go," she ordered the driver coldly.

In the rearview mirror, Chloe's figure grew smaller and smaller.

Margaret glanced down at the gift box on the seat, her brows furrowed.

She lifted the lid. The rose-red scarf inside made her eyes sting.

"What terrible taste..." she muttered disdainfully, tossing the box under the seat.

She wiped her fingers on the leather upholstery as if they'd touched something filthy.

Chloe's plain face flashed through her mind again.

So provincial.

Too timid to even laugh properly.

Margaret massaged her temples.

Her gaze caught the scarf again.

Cheap yarn. Crooked stitches.

How dare someone give her such trash?

Suddenly she remembered the Hermès scarf Evelyn Langley had gifted her.

Exquisite patterns. Luxuriously soft.

Now that was worthy of her status.

"Disgusting!" Margaret slammed her palm against the seat.

Why was she thinking about that jinx?

......

"Madam is home."

Isabella Evans jumped up from the couch, eyes locking onto the gift box in her mother's hands.

"Mom, what's that?"

She tore open the packaging eagerly.

"Oh my God!" She shrieked, flinging the scarf away. "What is this monstrosity?"

The rose-red yarn twisted in tangled knots.

The stitching zigzagged haphazardly.

"From your brother's girlfriend." Margaret sneered. "Supposedly handmade."

Isabella picked up the scarf between two fingers, face scrunched in disgust. "Our dog's bed looks better than this."

"If she weren't pregnant..." Margaret ground her teeth.

"Pregnant?!" Isabella's voice shot up an octave. "Chloe's carrying my brother's baby?"

Her eyes widened.

Evelyn had been with Nathan for years without conceiving.

This Chloe must have some skills.

"She called me today with the news." Margaret rubbed her forehead.

Isabella suddenly smirked. "Don't you think it's odd, Mom?"

"What?"

"Why would my brother's girlfriend tell you instead of him?"

Margaret froze.

"Probably because Nathan doesn't want the baby." Isabella said meaningfully. "She's trying to use you as leverage."

She'd seen this game played countless times in wealthy circles.

Every social climber had their tricks.