Chapter 458

"What's this?"

"Nothing..."

Evelyn snatched the paper before her parents could stop her.

Andrew grabbed it back. "I said it's nothing."

He hastily folded the document twice before shoving it deep into his pants pocket.

But Evelyn had already glimpsed the staggering figure.

"Where did you borrow this from?"

"...An old friend." Andrew waved dismissively. "Stay out of it."

Her voice turned icy. "Which friend casually lends two million? What did you promise in return?"

"I said it's a friend!" Andrew suddenly raised his voice. "This isn't your decision to make!"

He stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door.

Grace patted her daughter's hand. "You know how your father gets..."

"Mom, two million isn't pocket change."

Grace hesitated before leading her into the kitchen.

Behind closed doors, she whispered, "Peter introduced us to someone from the bank's credit department. They offered a low-interest loan..."

Evelyn's alarm bells rang. "Peter Harrison?"

"He seemed reliable—wore a nice suit. Said he was helping a friend meet quotas..."

"Interest rate?"

"0.8‰." Grace gestured. "Much lower than banks."

Evelyn frowned. "Show me the contract."

The bedroom door remained shut.

"Dad!"

Silence.

Grace suddenly remembered. "The digital copy was emailed to Emily."

Evelyn pushed open her sister's door.

Emily jerked away from her computer, hastily closing a document.

"Sis? What—"

Grace looked puzzled. "I thought you were asleep?"

"I was translating academic papers for my advisor..."

Evelyn glanced at the screen—legitimate research.

"Pull up Dad's loan agreement."

Emily obediently opened the email.

Eighty pages of dense legal text filled the screen.

Grace sighed. "Take your time. I'll make noodles."

Evelyn motioned to close the door.

"Sis, is there a problem?"

"Has Peter visited recently?"

"Last week with Mid-Autumn gifts..." Emily froze.

Evelyn smirked.

Since when did unemployed men have corporate benefits?

She knew Hamilton Group's policies—Alexander never bothered with hollow gestures.

Once she'd asked, "Why no mooncakes?"

The man had adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. "A thousand in cash versus pastry. Your pick."

The company-wide vote was unanimous—even the janitors chose money.

Alexander had said simply, "Why complicate what money solves."

Emily mumbled, "Peter's been kind..."

"To what end?" Evelyn countered. "Why would he help our family?"

"Maybe—"

"There are no maybes." Evelyn cut her off. "Get me water."

As her sister left, she flipped to the interest clause.

Her pupils contracted at a single line of fine print.