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“I know that all these years, this family survived because of you,” Norris said. “But you’re the only one who can still talk to Alfred. I have no one else to rely on.”
“Rely on me?” Zoey let out a cold laugh.
“Then why did you only think about giving the company to Patrick? Why didn’t you ever think of me?”
The moment she said that, Norris’s face changed.
“I know,” Zoey went on, her voice sharp. “You’re nice to me, but only because of my connection with Alfred. Deep down, you’ve always favored sons over daughters. You never planned to hand the family business to me, did you?”
Her aggressive tone made Norris’s face darken.
“What are you talking about?” he snapped. “I’m not dead, and you’re already talking about inheritance?”
He pointed a finger at her nose.
“Forget the fact that you and your brother are different. You didn’t even finish high school. What makes you think you can compete with him? At least he has a college degree.
“If you refuse to ask Alfred for help, fine,” Norris continued. “But then don’t talk about inheritance. Our company might not even survive.”
For years, Horizon Industries had been spoiled by the Keywood Group. The Keywood Group always covered the losses whenever something went wrong. As long as Norris locked in materials early, he never worried about losing money.
Because of that, he got used to stockpiling huge amounts of raw materials. He even tried to corner the market by buying up almost everything from suppliers.
He never feared inventory piling up.
But that only worked because Keywood Group backed them. Now that the support had stopped, the consequences were deadly. But now, without Keywood Group backing them, that strategy became a disaster waiting to happen.
Because of this, Norris had been so uneasy these past few days. The Keywood Group hadn’t transferred any money.
“And you?” Norris said coldly. “You’ve been overseas for years, claiming to recover from illness,
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but really just enjoying yourself. What did you learn? Nothing. You have no skills, and you still want to inherit the company?” He sneered. “With your brother around, you might barely qualify as an heiress. Without him, you’d be begging on the streets someday.”
After throwing out those words, Norris ignored Zoey’s ashen face and walked out of Patrick’s hospital room.
Zoey was burning with anger after being torn down like that.
She cursed under her breath, then slammed the door as she stormed off.
Zoey didn’t care that the loud noise might disturb her brother, who was still recovering in bed.
Patrick hadn’t been asleep at all. He had heard every word of their argument, spoken as if he weren’t even there. He let out a tired sigh.
At this rate, would he even live long enough to inherit the company business?
Not long after Zoey returned home, a servant came over.
“Ms. Zoey, there’s a man named Martin outside. He says he’s your friend and wants to see you.”
“Martin?” Zoey frowned at once, disgust flashing across her face.
“What does he want?”
“He didn’t say. He said he’d explain once he met you.”
“I don’t want to see him. Tell him to get lost,” Zoey said impatiently.
“I’m already in a bad mood.”
“Yes, Ms. Zoey.”
The servant turned to leave but was stopped.
“Forget it,” Zoey said after a pause. “I’ll go take a look myself.”
She went downstairs and saw Martin sprawled on the couch.
He had one leg crossed over the other, patting the soft leather beneath him, clicking his tongue in amazement.
“Wow,” he muttered. “So this is how rich people live.”
Zoey shot him a look full of disgust as she walked down the stairs.
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Hearing movement behind him, Martin turned around. When he saw Zoey, he jumped up at once, putting on a slick grin as he walked toward her.
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Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.

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