Chapter 67

**Philip**

Dawn had scarcely broken when a call from Father roused me. Jane and I were summoned to the mansion, and we couldn't refuse. Reluctantly, I decided to bring my sister home, even though I didn't want to leave Sarah yet. At the Cornell mansion, my father's orders must be followed.

Our family discussion over breakfast revolved around one pivotal issue: Jane's arranged marriage to the Olsens. In return, they would provide substantial support for our Sci-Fi project. Mom explained that the Olsen Group would invest 1.2 billion dollars into the project.

Jane felt I didn't care about her, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I asked Mom if I could speak with the Olsens to ensure our agreement was solidified in a contract.

"Brother Philip, why did you agree?" Jane cried as we drove to the office. "I expected you to fight for me. Now, you're even going to talk to the Olsens to secure my situation with them?"

"Jane, I'm doing this for you! You know how Dad is; his decisions are final, and I can't change his mind."

"No! You're doing this for your project, Brother Philip!" Her eyes were filled with tears.

I frowned. While it was true I would benefit, I would also make sure Jane wasn't at a disadvantage with the Olsens.

"Jane, you've wanted to leave home, haven't you? I've looked into the man you'll marry. He's a good person." I tried to comfort her, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged me off, her mind set against it.

"Not like this, Brother. Do you want my marriage to end up like your relationship with Sarah? I don't know these people! I don't trust your mother, either!"

Exasperated, I fell silent, brooding until we reached the office.

At noon, while I was immersed in reviewing documents, Mom arrived with Madam Olsen. It was my first time meeting her, and her resemblance to Sarah struck me. They shared the same gray eyes and the same eyebrow shape. Madam Olsen had been living in Germany for years, which explained why I hadn't met her before.

"Madam, do you have any distant relatives in Las Vegas?" I blurted out, unable to contain my curiosity. The possibility that she might be related to Sarah was something I couldn't ignore.

"Philip, you're being rude," my mother said sharply, her eyes narrowing disapprovingly.

"My apologies, madam," I said, turning to the regal woman across the table. "It's just that you bear an uncanny resemblance to my ex-wife," I apologized to the lady.

Madam Olsen's expression remained nonchalant. "While my son is busy with his financial business in New York, your mother and I are attending a charity event here in town. This weekend, my family will be coming, and you'll have the chance to meet them. But to get to the point, what exactly do you want for the union? I haven't met Jane, but I've heard a lot about her. She's a scholar in London, young, beautiful, and seemingly perfect for the Olsens."

She continued talking, echoing the sentiments familiar to families like ours. The painful truth is that being born into a wealthy family comes with strings attached. Mothers like Madam Olsen and my own see it as their duty to position their children advantageously, ensuring the family gains in business or political standing.

My mother, in particular, is keen on solidifying her status as Madam Cornell. Ordinary people might not understand, but such a title opens many doors. They control the family while their husbands control the business, effectively giving them influence over everything.

"For Jane, I would ask a yearly allowance of thirty percent from her husband's income," I began carefully. "Additionally, full ownership of David Olsen's property holdings in Germany as well as his commercial buildings in New York. In case of a divorce, Jane shall receive fifty percent of all assets in a settlement," I explained.

The corners of Madam Olsen's lips turned up slightly. "50% is absurd! I would say 20% is more reasonable."

The figure was not inconsiderable. 20% of David Olsen's net worth was still significant, so I agreed. Jane has some assets, but they're nothing compared to her future husband's wealth since she just graduated from college.

"Upon marrying my son, Jane shall take up residence with us in New York. Her primary responsibilities will be tending to the household and caring for my grandchildren." She arched an imperious brow as she declared. "As you know, David has two children from his late wife. Jane will assume the duties of their stepmother and caretaker within our family estate."

The conversation continued on various topics until my mother and Madam Olsen finally said their goodbyes. As we opened the door to my office, I saw Sarah waiting there, and the stress I'd felt all morning began to lift.

However, her expression was one of anger.

**Sarah**

In the luxurious office suite of my ex-husband, tension crackled like static electricity as Madam Cornell confronted Alex. "What brings her here? You're Philip's assistant, but it seems you were letting anyone in to see him."

Her tone dripped with disapproval, clearly aimed at scolding Philip's assistant.

Caught in the tension, I stood frozen, pondering my next move. Madam Olsen fixed her gaze on me, her expression sharp.

"But frankly, this woman's lack of manners is just unbelievable, Madam Cornell. Who is she?" the woman demanded, her words hitting the air like daggers.

"I couldn't agree more. Her lack of manners is precisely why I can't stand her," Madam Cornell retorted.

"Madam, Mother, let's refrain from derogatory remarks about my ex-wife," Philip interjected sternly.

"Your ex-wife?" Madam Olsen's eyebrow arched. "So she's the one you said resembles me. Good thing I see her personally because she looks nothing like me. I thought Megan Thompson was your ex you were trying to please." Her tone dripped with sarcasm, aimed squarely at me.

I bristled at her words, my gaze narrowing.

"Please disregard her, Madam Olsen. She's a woman from the slums! She can't accept that my son divorced her and won't leave him be since she gets no alimony. She's just trying to seduce Philip for money." Madam Cornell declared, turning her attention to me. "Leave at once!"

Though my heart seethed with an unspoken fury, my words escaped me like sand through clenched fists. I remained wordless, my insides ablaze with a bewildering intensity. Despite Madam Olsen's striking resemblance, my mother had passed away years ago.

"I'm here to discuss a matter concerning my job with Philip, not to entertain the baseless accusations you've leveled, Madam Cornell," I finally managed to say, extending my hand to Madam Olsen. "I'm Sarah Mitchell, an orphan and Philip's former wife."

As I said my name, Madam Olsen's eyelids fluttered slightly, just as I had anticipated. A shiver ran through me as I studied her reaction. Madam Olsen's expression hardened, the flicker of recognition swiftly masked. Her gaze dropped to my outstretched hand, lips pressed into a thin line.

"I've already sanitized my hands," she remarked coolly.

Madam Cornell's lips curled into a smug smile while Philip's gaze narrowed.

As Madam Olsen walked away, she tossed a parting remark over her shoulder. "Nice to meet you, though. I hope you're doing well."

Madam Cornell raised her chin imperiously as she trailed after Madam Olsen toward the elevator. I cast a perplexed glance at the departing figures.

This couldn't be real. How had things spiraled into this?

Madam Olsen cast one final glance back at me, her eyes narrowing with a silent warning before disappearing into the elevator.