The Heiress They Couldn't Break (Amelia and Jeremy) novel Chapter 662

She slumped onto the cold floor, her eyes hollow and venomous, as if she could devour everyone who had brought her to this state.

Gianna returned home in a daze, surveying the remaining properties and shops—what little was left after her frantic selling.

Even this was not enough to plug the hole created by her spending habits and mounting debts.

Watching her assets dwindle with each sale filled her with a growing panic and misery.

If this continued, not only would she cease to be a socialite, but she would soon rank below even a typical rich girl.

"No. Absolutely not," she muttered, her expression edging into something unhinged.

There was only one person left to pin her hopes on.

With that thought, she hurried to her mother's room.

"Mom? Mom, what are you doing?"

Too impatient to wait for an answer, she twisted the doorknob and burst in.

Old habits from the Nygard household died hard. The tears came on cue, streaming down her face in an instant.

Choking back a sob, she addressed her mother's back as Regina sat at the vanity.

"Mom, you've seen what's online, right? It was a setup! Someone plotted against me!" she wailed.

"Now even some nobody from a minor family thinks she can mess with me. We can't go on like this!

"When are we going back to the Jordans? If we don't go back soon, everyone will look down on us. How are we supposed to hold our heads up?"

In the past, this kind of tearful confession would have drawn instant sympathy.

But now it seemed to have no effect—not on those three stubborn Nygard men, and apparently not even on her own mother.

Regina remained seated at the vanity, engrossed in her reflection, offering no response, not even a hum.

"Mom, say something! Am I wrong? We were the ones who made those bold declarations to the Nygards, saying they'd soon be looking up to us in awe.

"How long has it been? Anyone with eyes can see we're living like ants now. Are you really content to be the laughingstock?"

Gianna grew more impassioned, her monologue stretching on.

Yet no matter what she said, her mother remained as still and unresponsive as if she were deaf—or dead.

It only fueled Gianna's fury and frustration.

But her mother was her last resort. She needed Regina to use her charms, to work her magic on Esmond again.

Only by pleasing him could they secure their future.

But now, she stared in horror at her mother's face, at the blotchy patches of skin, the areas that looked raw and ulcerated. She nearly stumbled backward.

Now that she looked closely, she realized her mother had changed drastically.

Regina had always seemed younger than other mothers her age, a well-preserved, attractive woman.

She wasn't conventionally beautiful, but she had a certain allure, maintained through meticulous care.

Lately, however, she had aged rapidly. Her skin had grown slack and sallow, with pronounced bags under her eyes.

Age spots had begun to appear, though layers of makeup had barely concealed them.

But how, in such a short time, had she become like this?

She now resembled a woman in her late seventies.

But even elderly ladies, while aged, didn't have skin like this.

Regina's face was dull, pitted, and marred by oozing sores.

It was horrifying.

"Yes, my face," Regina spat. "Look at my face! How am I supposed to charm your father like this? How am I supposed to get us into the Jordans now?"