No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 483

Chapter 483 In Your Dreams

Clara had put on the performance of a lifetime, had finally managed to get Amelia to the table to discuss the estate, and then Ethan had blown the whole thing apart with a single sentence.

Grace hadn’t exactly looked pleased, but she didn’t say a word either, clearly giving her silent approval.

Clara was seething, her teeth grinding hard. She lowered her voice and spat toward Amelia’s retreating, Ungrateful bitch. Climbs up the ladder and forgets where she came from.”

Beatrice was right there fanning the flames. “Mom, did you see the look on her face? She’s definitely trying o worm her way back in with Ethan. She wants to remarry him.

And what’s his deal anyway? They’re divorced, and he’s still shielding her like that. What’s that supposed

o mean?”

What do you think it means?” Clara scoffed, the fleshy folds of her face twitching with contempt. “Men are all the same. Even when they’ve thrown something out, they still don’t want anyone else touching it. Besides, Fiona just died. He’s got to keep up appearances.”

Despite what she said, Clara was just as furious on the inside.

The carefully orchestrated scheme had been dismantled without breaking a sweat.

But what worried Beatrice even more was the estate–so tantalizingly close, yet impossibly out of reach.

She asked anxiously, “Mom, what about the estate? What if Amelia digs her heels in and refuses to hand it over, no matter what? In a few days, Spencer is coming to visit with his mother. You think our small villa is going to impress them? They won’t even give it a second look!”

Clara’s expression darkened.

‘She wouldn’t dare!” The words hissed through her clenched teeth, her eyes cold and calculating. “But we can’t make a scene here with all these people around. The last thing we need is to get on the Rowes‘ bad side. Don’t worry–the second this funeral is over, I’ll show up at her office every single day until she agrees to come home for that dinner.”

In Clara’s mind, Amelia was nothing but a paper tiger–all bark and no bite.

No matter how strong and independent she acted on the outside, deep down, she was still that girl desperate for family and dependent on the Harlows‘ approval. All Clara had to do was recite the same old speech-“we raised you, you owe us” a few more times, throw in some pressure and a few sweetened threats, and Amelia would fall in line. She always did.

After all, the debt she owed the Harlows was one she could never repay–not in this lifetime.

Clara’s mental calculator was clicking away at full speed, while Amelia, blissfully unaware and utterly unconcerned with their scheming, carried on with her day.

After the luncheon, she threw herself back into the funeral duties–greeting arriving guests, guiding them

7:05 pm P &00

Chapter 483 In Your Dreams

through the memorial service.

Finished

Clara and Beatrice tried several more times to sidle up to her, but each time Ethan smoothly intercepted them without making it obvious.

After enough failed attempts, the mother–daughter duo finally got the hint. Afraid that overstaying their welcome would only draw more side–eyes, they slipped away sometime in the late afternoon.

Watching their white sedan pull out through the Rowe Estate gates, Amelia finally let herself exhale.

The day had wrung her out from dawn to dusk.

That night, back in the guest room, Amelia collapsed onto the bed without even bothering to turn off the lights. She sent Mason a few quick texts and passed out cold.

The next day was the final day of the funeral. The number of guests coming to pay respects had noticeably thinned.

Amelia woke early, her body still heavy with fatigue, but something warm flickered to life in her chest–a quiet anticipation.

She remembered Mason mentioning yesterday that he’d be bringing his mother today to pay their respects to Fiona.

It had only been two or three days since she’d last seen him, but it felt like it had been forever.

All morning, Amelia was distracted.

But by evening, Mason still hadn’t shown up.

The only sign of him came just before dinner, when a man in a black suit delivered several large floral wreaths bearing the names “Mason Everett” and “Everett Group.”

Amelia stared at the clusters of white flowers, and a hollow sense of disappointment settled in her chest.

She pressed her lips together, walked to a quiet corner, and sent Mason a text with a hint of petulance. “Liar. You said you’d come.”

Mason’s reply came after a beat.

“Sorry. I thought about it and realized that someone like me showing up at a Rowe funeral would draw too much attention. It wouldn’t be good for you. And my mom really did have to pick up Hayden from school today. She couldn’t get away.”

Amelia pouted, “What’s wrong with showing up? What, are you worried the Rowes would mob you for autographs?”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify