The Returned Heiress Who Never Fit In novel Chapter 900

**Chapter 900: Home Cooking Hits Different**

As the minutes dragged on, an insatiable hunger gnawed at everyone in the room. Mona, her patience wearing thin, erupted. “What kitchen? There isn’t even a kitchen left anymore!” Her voice was sharp, slicing through the tension like a knife.

The memory of Derrick’s destructive rampage lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the chaos he had unleashed. He had reduced their once-functional kitchen to mere splinters and debris, leaving behind a trail of frustration and despair.

And then there was Marie. What a handful she was turning out to be! Just the previous night, she had boldly asserted her authority, declaring that she would take charge of everything—that all family matters would be funneled through her. Was this really her vision of management? The thought of it made Mona’s blood boil. To add insult to injury, Marie had whisked away the family’s financial records, as if they were her personal treasure. How could someone who couldn’t even manage the household effectively be trusted with ledgers? The mere notion infuriated Mona.

To make matters worse, Hamlin’s daughter was in urgent need of a significant sum of money, and Mona couldn’t shake the regret of not transferring more funds into her own accounts when she had the opportunity. She had never anticipated that the poised daughter of the illustrious Dawson family would resort to such underhanded tactics. The stark reality was that the Tom family had dwindled in comparison to the Dawsons’ stature.

“What do we do now?” Gary murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “She didn’t even mention when we’d get our monthly allowance.”

This morning had been particularly brutal; his attempts to use his credit cards had been met with an unforgiving reality—they were all frozen. He felt utterly powerless, locked out of his own finances. Even the black card his father had gifted him years ago had been unceremoniously canceled.

The more he ruminated on the situation, the more his anger bubbled beneath the surface.

Mona turned her gaze to Holt, desperation creeping into her tone. “Holt, do you have any idea when she plans on sending out the monthly transfers?”

Her own cards were frozen, too. Everything under the Tom family name had been locked away as if it were a treasure chest with no key. She had refrained from using her personal accounts since marrying into the family—especially now, with Marie’s stingy allowance of fifty thousand a month. Spending even a cent over that limit would create an insurmountable gap.

Holt’s expression darkened, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Why don’t you just ask her? What do you want from me?”

He hadn’t eaten a thing all morning, and the thought of Marie made his stomach churn. He wanted nothing to do with her, and the mere mention of her name sent him into a silent fury.

A heavy silence enveloped the Tom family, a palpable chill hanging in the air like a thick fog.

Meanwhile, at the Dawson residence, Marie and Derrick were already indulging in a lavish feast. Marie savored her food with a voracious appetite, as if she hadn’t eaten in days.

“Home cooking still tastes the best,” she declared between mouthfuls, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

“You haven’t touched a bite since last night,” Derrick pointed out, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“If I can’t enjoy a good meal, then neither should anyone else,” she retorted, her tone light, yet laced with an underlying edge.

Mona had likely envisioned her rising early to whip up breakfast for everyone—like that was ever going to happen. She wasn’t anyone’s servant. The money? Absolutely, she’d take it.

But whether she engaged in family chores depended entirely on her whims—and, of course, on who was doing the asking. When it came to the Toms, she wouldn’t lift a finger for any of them.

“Where’s Stella?” Marie asked nonchalantly, glancing at the butler who stood at attention.

“Madam is on the phone,” the butler replied cautiously, “It seems to be a call from Yalvoria. She appears… upset.”

“Yalvoria?” Marie frowned, her curiosity piqued. Upset? That couldn’t be good.

It had to be about Rianne.

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