“Claudia! Are you insane? You actually burned down your grandmother's house!" Lottie's voice broke, sharp with hysteria. They'd thought Claudia might be upset—might argue, maybe even fight about it—but they'd never imagined she'd go this far. That she'd be ruthless enough to reduce Grandma's last bequest to ashes. When the fire department called that morning, Lottie had almost thought she'd misheard. "That was your grandparents' house—their symbol of love! How could you be so heartless? Weren't you the one who said you'd preserve it forever? Look at it now!" The official report claimed it was an accident, but both women knew better. Coincidence? Hardly. Claudia had beaten Lydia bloody the night before, and now the house was gone. Because they'd wanted to give it to Lydia, Claudia had destroyed it rather than let her have it. For the first time, Lottie realized just how far her younger daughter had fallen. Claudia gave a soft, bitter laugh. "So you did know how much it meant to me? And still, you went against Grandma's will." Lottie faltered. "We had our reasons." "I don't care what reasons you had." Claudia's voice rose, sharp and shaking. "To me, burning it down is better than letting a murderer inherit it." "Claudia!" Lottie's scream was half anguish, half disbelief. "Watch your words! Your grandmother's death was an accident! Why won't you believe that? Lydia's her granddaughter too—why would she hurt her? Don't let jealousy blind you!" Claudia didn't even bother to argue. She had no proof—and they'd never believe her anyway.Lottie pressed on. "Do you realize arson is a crime? That house mattered to Lydia! And after the way you beat her—she was admitted to the ER last night…" "Oh." Claudia cut her off coolly. "Then call the police." The silence that followed was thick. On the other end, Lottie's breath hitched with a mix of anger and helplessness. "You know we can't do that, Claudia. What have you turned into? I barely recognize you anymore." Claudia had counted on exactly that. The deed was still in Lottie's name, and she would never risk the Lancaster family's reputation by having her daughter arrested for accidentally burning an old house while making offerings to her grandmother. The gossip alone would destroy them. So, the whole thing would be brushed under the rug. Claudia's tone went icy. “Good. Then get to know me again. From now on, Claudia isn't the girl you can chain down with guilt. Cross me, and I'll be worse than you can imagine." The call ended—cold, bitter, final. Claudia set her phone down, staring blankly for a few seconds before lifting her gaze to Sterling. The usual lazy smile was gone; his eyes were calm, steady, unreadable. "You see?" she said flatly. "Arson's not leverage against me. So get out." Sterling's mouth curved slightly. "So you didn't save me because you were forced—you just couldn't resist my looks?" His focus was absurdly off. The suffocating tension cracked. Claudia blinked, caught off guard. "Has anyone ever told you you're a narcissist?" "They have now." "You heard what I said. I've got trouble coming my way. Staying here won't exactly be peaceful for you."In other words: this was not the place to recover. Sterling changed the subject without missing a beat. "You know, telling strangers about family drama isn't smart." Then, quietly, "Loner types make the easiest targets for murder and disposal." Claudia rolled her eyes. "If you kill me, I'll haunt you." He smirked. "Never met a ghost before. If Ms. Lancaster's offering, I wouldn't mind a forbidden romance." "You're sick." "Takes one to know one." And just like that—between sarcasm and smirks—Sterling stayed. Claudia stomped off like an angry cat, gave him a hard kick for good measure, and disappeared into her room for more sleep. Sterling's lips curved again. Show softness to a devil, and he'll make himself at home. … While Claudia and her "patient" slept behind drawn curtains, the world outside descended into chaos. The beating of Lydia hadn't even been dealt with yet, and overnight Claudia had dropped another bombshell. If Wilson hadn't been hardened by years of her antics, he might've ended up in the ER himself. He just couldn't understand it. How had that sweet, quiet little girl turned into this? Even her years of silence had been easier to live with than the defiant creature she'd become. Could she really not stand Lydia's existence?But hadn't they already borne enough for her sake? Otherwise, what would people say? Wilson's face was dark as he turned to his eldest son. "This time, she needs a lesson. Cancel every card in her name. Let's see how much fight she's got left without money." Then, thinking of bedridden Lydia, he added, "And your sister's been through enough. When she's recovered, arrange a world tour for her—first-class, everything she wants. Make sure her troupe gets extra sponsorship." "Got it," Clarence said, though his mood was sour. Every time Claudia caused trouble, he had to clean it up. And today, he even had to fly to Altrix City to handle the aftermath. With the house gone, there was no ancestral anchor left. Who knew how much that would affect Lydia's fragile health? Clarence called his assistant. "Freeze all of Claudia's accounts. For the next six months, not a cent goes to her. And contact a few specialists overseas. Have them evaluate Lydia properly. After all these years, why is she still this weak?" The assistant hesitated. “Uh…” Freeze her cards? But hadn't Ms. Lancaster's accounts been sealed five years ago—when she left the family? Clarence, buried in company affairs, had long forgotten. Everyone assumed the family still supported Claudia quietly. Lydia herself had claimed she'd sent her sister a few million. Over time, Clarence had stopped questioning it. He believed Claudia was still taking their money—and despised her rebellion even more because of it. In truth, Claudia Lancaster hadn't bowed her head for money in years. But since her boss clearly didn't want that reminder, the assistant kept his mouth shut. Freezing Claudia's cards had become a Lancaster family tradition—pointless, habitual, symbolic.The assistant filed the latest meaningless order away and turned his focus to Lydia. He personally thought anyone who could dance, spin, and leap on stage couldn't be that fragile. But if Mr. Clarence wanted doctors, doctors he would get. Remembering Lydia's dramatic stage routines followed by her constant hospital stays, he sighed and made the calls anyway—just to be safe.