CHAPTER 64: DOWRY

Elias leaned against the wall beside the front door, arms loosely folded, his face unreadable.

He had been standing there long enough to catch most of the shouting, the chaos between mother and daughter echoing through the hall like an old wound torn open again.

As the final outburst quieted into sobs, the property agent beside him shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting between the door and the floor.

Elias tilted his head slightly, then raised a finger to his lips, a subtle but firm gesture.

’Don’t say a word. Don’t mention I’m here.’

The agent blinked, clearly hesitant, but nodded.

Satisfied, Elias turned his gaze back toward the front of the house. He had promised her he wouldn’t interfere. And if he stepped in now, he had no idea how she’d react.

In the end, he chose to return to his car, waiting silently inside.

Before leaving, he slipped Theo’s name card into the agent’s hand.

"Give me a call," he whispered, almost mouthing the words. "I’ll offer double whatever the buyer did."

The agent stared at the name card in her palm, then back at the man already turning away.

Finally, recognition struck. Her eyes widened as she mouthed the name printed on the card.

"Theo Kingsley...?" she whispered.

Then louder, to herself more than anyone, "That was Theo Kingsley?"

Her voice came out a little too loud in the stillness. She gasped and quickly covered her mouth, glancing toward the house in panic.

But Elias was already gone, walking down the path like nothing had happened. Calm, invisible, and dangerous in the way only rich men with quiet authority could be.

But inside the house, the storm hadn’t passed. Jasmine’s voice once again echoed off the walls.

"You act like you’re the only one carrying the family," she cried out, stumbling after Daisy. "But do you know how hard I’ve tried? I’ve asked everyone I could think of... I’ve begged, Daisy! For our family! For you!"

She kept rambling, her voice losing shape as it morphed into frantic mumbling, mostly half excuses, half self-pity, none of it making any real sense.

Daisy didn’t respond. She stood up slowly, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and turned toward the door.

She didn’t say a word. Not one. She had run out of strength from shouting. And maybe that scared Jasmine more than anything.

But Jasmine followed.

Still muttering anything she could to make sure she got what she wanted all the way down the car, until Daisy’s hand gripped the door handle.

"I’ll hire a cleaning service. Get your things and leave." Daisy opened the door, slid inside, and was just about to close it when Jasmine slipped her hand between the door.

"You can’t just leave like this," Jasmine said, pulling the door open again. "You!" She pointed at Elias, who was leaning back in his seat with no expression. "Since you’re taking her, pay me." She held out her hand, demanding payment.

"Mom!" Daisy shouted, her voice cracking with disbelief as she yanked the door back fully open and stepped out again.

Jasmine didn’t flinch. She kept her hand out, palm up, as if the situation was completely logical. "If you’re taking her away, at least compensate me. I raised her, didn’t I? I fed her, clothed her—"

"Barely!" Daisy cut in, eyes burning. "You didn’t raise me. The maid did. The school counselor did. Hell, sometimes I think the neighborhood cat did a better job comforting me than you ever did."

The sound of the door on the other side opening made both of them turn.

"Wait, no, I told you to stay inside." Daisy frowned, urging him to go back into the car.

But Elias headed straight toward them, locking eyes with Daisy. "You stay inside," he said gently, guiding her back into the car and closing the door, leaving Daisy baffled, staring through the window.

"So, Mrs. Sinclair... let us talk a bit there." Elias pointed toward the gate, his tone polite but firm—like a businessman suggesting a meeting that wasn’t optional.

Jasmine scoffed but followed, crossing her arms with exaggerated pride as they walked a few steps away from the car.

"So, let me introduce myself properly," he began the moment they stopped. "I’m Daisy’s husband."

Jasmine’s eyes widened. "What? Did you just say husband?!"

"Yes." Elias didn’t even blink. "Legally married, on paper and in life. Which means, from this point on, any deal, argument, or arrangement involving Daisy... goes through me."

Jasmine opened her mouth, but he raised a hand calmly.

"I’m not here to argue or bargain. I’m just here to make sure she’s not dragged into any more of this mess."

Jasmine narrowed her eyes. "So you think marrying her means you can control her now? That she’ll just—"

"No," Elias said coolly, "it means I protect her now. Something you were supposed to do, long before I came into the picture."

That shut her up.

Elias gave her a last nod, not of respect, but of finality, and turned to walk back toward the car.

"No, stop!" Jasmine rushed forward and stood in front of him, blocking his path. "Pay me! Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Something we call... dowry! Yes, dowry!"

Elias stared at her, his face unreadable. "Dowry?" he repeated, almost like the word tasted foreign in his mouth.

"Yes!" Jasmine jutted her chin, as if proud of remembering the term. "You married her, didn’t you? Then where’s my compensation? Isn’t that what you are supposed to do first?"

There was a beat of silence. Then Elias’s lips curled, part amusement and part disbelief. "Mrs. Sinclair," he said slowly, "do you realize dowry typically comes from the bride’s family, not to it?"

Jasmine blinked, her bravado faltering for just a second. "Well... still! Our family tradition is different!"

Elias’s gaze shifted slightly. "How much?"

She straightened, eyes lighting up as if she’d just won the lottery. "Five... hundred thousand."

He raised an eyebrow. "You’re selling your daughter for that cheap?"

Jasmine’s lips twitched. "Fine. One million."