The second the call connected, the insults started flying—one after another, each one sharper than the last: "Blind as a bat, a disgrace to the family, ungrateful, heartless…" Not a single word repeated, and not an ounce of dignity left. Blocking unknown numbers didn't work. Turning the phone off didn't work. Switching to backup numbers? Nope, that didn't work either. Whoever was behind this had clearly thought it all through, even bringing in hackers to cover their tracks. And because the voices were so loud, people at the dinner party couldn't help but hear snippets of the insults. Heads turned, eyes widened, and barely-contained smirks tugged at people's faces. It was a humiliation the Lancasters had never, ever experienced. The couple bolted from the hall, red-faced and defeated. Wilson, who was usually the picture of composure, finally cracked. He cursed aloud for the first time in his life, before smashing his phone into tiny pieces. At the hospital, Lydia was on the verge of passing out when the insults poured in: "Mistress, fake daughter, usurper, slut, unworthy of the world stage…" Her breath hitched, and she actually spat up blood. Through the phone, the frantic sounds of Zane and Jasper hitting the emergency button could be heard. As for Quade, he didn't last more than two minutes before the verbal onslaught sent him into a frenzy. He started firing back, hurling curses of his own, and the exchange raged on for a solid half hour. But eventually, even he gave in, smashing the expensive phone Lydia had given him. At the end of the recording came the cheerful voice of one of the hired callers: "Boss, don't worry. Unless they stop using their phones completely, we'll be on them like ghosts. We've timed it perfectly—two days, twenty-three hours, and five minutes left." Professional to the core. Not only had they done thorough background checks, but they were even keeping track of time down to the minute. Claudia was stunned. In all her life, she'd never heard insults so creative, so vicious.She learned something new that day. If one hour of this was enough to break them, the next three days promised to be delightful. Even Clint, who'd originally dismissed the whole plan as childish, changed his mind after hearing the recordings. Whether juvenile or not, this move was devastating. He tried to imagine what it would be like, being cursed out non-stop, day and night—and even he felt his blood boil. Grinning, he reported back, and even entertained the idea of getting a "cursing package" for the Romero elders. Mr. Romero liked his methods more physical, but this psychological warfare? Brutally effective. Claudia's eyes lit up as she turned toward the calm man who was shutting off the recording. She'd only joked about it, never actually expecting him to follow through. The results? Stunning. She felt a satisfaction she hadn't experienced in years. Who would ever enjoy being cursed out of nowhere? Yet for her, that had been the norm for over a decade. Why hadn't she thought of this brilliant form of revenge before? "Boss, you're amazing. Truly amazing. Whatever you want—if I can do it, I will," she said, her voice brimming with admiration. Sterling gave her a rare, amused glance at her unexpected fawning. But, to spare himself the discomfort of her attention, he gently pushed her back with a finger to her forehead. She had tried to massage him earlier, but had only managed to poke at every bruise he had. But despite the light teasing, he couldn't help but soften as he watched her, glowing and carefree, her smile unguarded."The best thing you can do for me right now is stay away." "Got it!" Claudia bounced three feet back. Sterling frowned. Why did her distance irritate him now? "Forget it. Come over and change my bandages." "Yes, sir!" she chirped, and went to work, her fingers lingering on his skin. When she snuck a touch over his abs, he caught her red-handed. To make up for it, she reluctantly handed over her room for the night. For the rest of the evening, Sterling called the shots, and Claudia didn't mind one bit. She smiled through every command, and even if it was only because he was annoyed by the calls or just needed an outlet for his frustration, she didn't care. She was happy. After all, this was her ten-million-dollar benefactor. That night, curled up on the small sofa, Claudia fell into a peaceful sleep with a smile on her face. Sterling, however, couldn't sleep. The delicate scent of her perfume lingered in the air, the softness of the bed beneath him felt too foreign, and the oversized plush toy propped next to him was a constant reminder that he was in a woman's room. Not just any woman's room. And that thought made him uneasy. Restless. He regretted trading places with her. The scent teased him again, and finally, unable to ignore it, he sat up, his gaze flicking toward her. Minutes passed before he gave in. He stood, bending down, and gently lifted her into his arms.She stirred, her arms wrapping around his neck like vines, her soft cheek brushing against him like a kitten seeking warmth. The contact froze him. She was too soft, too warm, and he didn't know whether to hold her tighter or set her down. He clenched his jaw, struggling against the urge to drop her and simply walk away. But instead, he carried her back to her room. Just as he was about to lay her down, her lips parted, and in her sleep, she murmured one word—"Grandma." Soft. Tender. Full of yearning. Sterling looked down at his hand, gripped tightly in her small palm, unable to pull away. For once, it wasn't her he was wrestling with. It was himself.