Chapter 432
He had processed the news over breakfast, and the thought of facing Eileen made him feel embarrassed. Yet, seeing her with Bryan had only deepened his shame. Despite everything, Zola was still his sister, and that was a reality he could never change.
“If it hadn’t been for my connection with Bryan, how would you have ever met Eileen?” Zola’s voice grew sharper. “What kind of spell did she cast on you to make you so blindly loyal to her? Don’t you see? She’s the one who leaked the news. She orchestrated everything that’s happened to me!”
Zola slammed the car to a stop. They had arrived at her house, yet neither of them moved to get out.
The tension inside the car was thick, a stark contrast to the calm they had shared earlier at Eileen’s.
“Business rivalries, like yours with Eileen, are common,” Milford said quietly. “It’s normal for her to target you. But don’t try to claim you’ve never schemed against her—I won’t believe it.”
Milford no longer wanted to engage in the argument. He opened the car door, stepped out, and stood by the entrance, his thoughts clear.
He knew that Eileen wasn’t the type to target someone without reason. She had many enemies, yet she’d never pursued anyone with as much determination as she had Zola. This reinforced his belief that Zola was far from being a victim.
As September approached, the weather grew increasingly unpredictable. It had been sunny just that morning, but now the rain had begun to fall.
Zola sat in the car, watching as the rain obscured her view through the windshield. Milford stood motionless in the downpour, his clothes soaked through.
Zola, frustrated by the ongoing strife between them as siblings, finally stepped out of the car once the rain eased. Her gaze was colder than the raindrops that had just fallen.
“Now that you’re back, you’ll follow my rules,” she stated, her voice icy. “Whether Eileen didn’t want you anymore, or you didn’t want to burden her, you’re here now, and there’s no turning back. From now on, you’ll do as I say. I don’t tolerate freeloaders.”
Zola unlocked the door, stepped inside, changed her shoes, and pulled two hundred dollars from her purse. She held it out to Milford, who was still standing outside.
“There’s nothing left for you here. Buy your own supplies; there’s a supermarket on the way.”
With that, she slammed the door shut.
Milford didn’t take the money. The bills fluttered to the wet ground, quickly becoming soaked as they settled. His hand, hanging limply at his side, clenched into a tight fist, his fingertips turning white from the force.