“A check?” Sophia picked up the $50 million check and glanced at it like it was trash. “A post-dated check like this takes at least three business days to clear. What if Nexus Corp’s stock plummets tomorrow? Or what if Mr. Thorne suddenly decides to move his assets? This paper would be too stiff to even use as toilet paper.”
“Insolent—”
Gregory slammed his hand on the table.
“Who are you cursing?” Sophia pressed on, unfazed. “If Nexus is stronger than ever, then $50 million in liquid cash should be pocket change for you, Mr. Thorne.”
She opened her phone’s banking app, displaying a prepared QR code and account number.
“I don’t trust checks. I only trust instant wire transfers. Transfer it now.”
The guests began to whisper again.
“This daughter is ruthless.”
“Not ruthless. Smart.”
“Who trusts checks these days?”
“If it bounces, who do you cry to?”
“Exactly. If he’s sincere, a wire transfer is no big deal.”
Gregory’s face turned a deep shade of purple. He was used to being flattered and obeyed in the business world. When had his own daughter ever forced his hand like this in public?
“Greg…” Melanie whispered nervously. “Maybe just transfer it to them. The company will all be Leo’s someday anyway. It’s just a little money.”
“Shut up.”
Gregory snapped at her. He then glared at Sophia, his jaw tight.
“Fine. You want a wire transfer? I’ll have accounting do it right now. Let’s see how you two survive out there away from the Thorne family with just this money.”
He took out his phone and dialed the CFO.
“Dan, liquidate $50 million from the corporate account immediately and transfer it to—”
Gregory paused, looking at Sophia.
Sophia rattled off a string of numbers, her voice clear and cold.
“That’s my mother’s personal trust account. Don’t get it wrong.”
The CFO on the other end seemed to hesitate.
“Mr. Thorne, that’s a significant amount of capital. If we pull it now, it might affect the funding for next month’s product launch.”
“Just do it. Stop wasting my time.”
Gregory, now blinded by rage, only wanted to get this over with and throw us out.
“Nexus can afford it.”
The hall fell silent again, everyone watching Gregory’s phone. His mother was stamping her foot, her cane thudding against the floor.
“What a waste. Fifty million just like that, to this barren hen. It’s giving me a heart attack.”
Sophia shot the old woman a cold glance.
“Grandma, if it hurts that much, you can always sell your precious grandson’s gold trinkets to make up for it, though I doubt they’d cover even a fraction of the cost.”
“You wicked girl!”
The old woman gasped, clutching her chest.
About five minutes later, my phone vibrated. It was a text alert from the bank.
Your account ending in 8888 received a deposit of $50,000,000 on October 24th at 7:30 p.m.
Seeing that long string of zeros, I felt a wave of irony. Twenty years of my life quantified by a cold digital number.
“The money’s here,” I said, holding up my phone for Gregory to see.
Sophia nodded, finally releasing her hand from the divorce agreement. She even considerately pushed it across the table toward him.
“Here you go, Mr. Thorne. This is the freedom you bought for $50 million. Try not to lose it.”
Gregory snatched the papers and handed them to his lawyer behind him, then waved his hand at us as if shooing away flies.
“Now that you have the money, get out. From this day forward, you have nothing to do with the Thorne family.”
“Naturally,” Sophia said.
She bent down to pick up my coat from the floor and draped it over my shoulders. Her movements were gentle, but when she turned back to Gregory, that suffocating sense of pressure returned.
“But, Mr. Thorne…” Sophia’s lips curved into a meaningful smile. “A word of advice. This money is just the first installment you’ll pay for that illegitimate son. I hope when you look back on this day, you won’t find the price too steep.”
Gregory laughed coldly.
“Steep? Fifty million is just a number to me. Now take your money and get lost. And don’t come crawling back like beggars when you’ve spent it all.”
Melanie, now feeling secure, stood up with Leo in her arms, affecting the air of the lady of the house.
“Well, Sophia, since we’re all settled, I won’t see you out. The party must go on. Leo still has to cut his cake.”
“Yes, we should go,” Sophia said.
Her gaze swept across the room. She looked at the gossiping guests, at the triumphant smirk on Melanie’s face, at the greedy, cruel expression of Gregory’s mother, and finally at the arrogant, self-satisfied face of Gregory Thorne.
“This place is filthy.”
