Quintessa was midway through her makeup routine when her phone buzzed. ncing at the


    notification, she saw the message from Snow - just a picture. Zooming in, she had her lips twitched in


    amusement. Had Snow lost his mind? Why on earth had he gotten his hands on so many coins?


    After sending the picture, Snow turned to James and said, "Could you please ry a message to Mr.


    York for me? Tell him I deeply appreciate his pensation.'' I love it, actually. I''ve been wracking my


    brain for a creative gift for Quinn, and now I know. I''ll gift her 999 coins every day. It''s like saying


    ''forever and always,'' persistently, day after day. Who knows? After a couple hundred days, she might


    just be moved enough to ept me. Tell him thanks for the brilliant idea."


    James: if you''re looking for trouble, I won''t stop you.


    Returning to the office, James faithfully passed along Snow''s message to the boss, half-expecting a


    volcanic eruption of anger. Instead, the boss simply smirked sinisterly and asked, "Does he send her


    flowers every morning?"


    "Yes."


    "Find out which florist."


    "Got it. I''ll have that florist shut down immediately."


    Tyrone gave a dismissive look. "Really, do I seem like that petty of a man?"


    However, from that day forward, the flowers Quintessa received each morning were always wilted,


    nearly bereft of petals, and emitted a peculiar odor. This led Quintessa to tell Manny to keep any


    flowers from Snow far away from her.


    Unaware of the silent battle between the two men, Quintessa was focused on her own life. After


    wrapping up a segment of the Requiem series, she nned a trip to Zion City. Before leaving, she


    decided to hit the mall for some personal shopping - it had been a while since shest updated her


    wardrobe.


    "You''re a public figure now. You should pay more attention to your appearance," Violet had advised.


    Quintessa was one of those people who could make anything look good, even if it was just a bed-sheet


    thrown over her shoulders.


    After a two-hour shopping spree, Quintessa invited Manny to grab a coffee at the café downstairs.


    No sooner had they entered the café than a familiar voice reached Quintessa''s ears.


    "When I lent you that jewelry, Vivian, it was genuine diamond. And now, what''s this? A fake? Did you


    think I wouldn''t notice?"


    "Mrs. York, are you using me of swapping your real jewelry for fakes? Let''s get some perspective


    here. I just borrowed it, and now you''re saying I switched it out?


    That''s basically using m


    of


    Property of N?)(velDr(a)ma.Org.


    theft! Our family, the Wests, might not be as influential as the Yorks, but we''re still reputable. How can


    you nder me like this?"


    "Exactly, Mrs. York. You can''t just bully people because the York family has a big name. Vivian could


    even say you gave her a knockoff in the first ce." Quintessa removed her sunsses and saw Mrs.


    York from a distance, whose face was pale and eyes reddening with helplessness and indignation.


    Amused yet indifferent, Quintessa thought to herself, "What a mess. Not my circus, not my monkeys."


    She turned to leave but halfway to the door, something made her turn back.


    Mrs. York wasn''t known for her argumentative skills. When surrounded and pointed at, used of


    trying to frame others, she looked


    both aggrieved and usation


    unable to counter the usations. Suddenly, someone sat beside her and draped an arm around her.


    "What''s all the excitement about?"


    Seeing it was Quintessa, Mrs. York seemed to find her backbone; her eyes were brimming with tears


    as she looked at her.


    With a sigh, Quintessa hugged Mrs.


    York''s shoulders. "Auntie, long time no see didn''t expect to bump into you here. What''s going on?


    Who''s giving you a hard time? Tell me, and I''ll tear them a new one."