The second Irene was gone, John lost it. His face went from red to straight-up purple as he slammed his fist on the table. “Twenty percent? Has Dad completely lost it?”

“Lower your voice,” Rose snapped, but the wine glass in her hand was shaking so bad she almost spilled it. “We need to fix this. Now.”

Anna couldn’t even stand still by the window. Like, seriously? Five years of playing Little Miss Perfect, sucking up to Silver City’s snootiest social circles, and what did she get? A measly two percent while Irene just waltzes in and grabs ten times that?

All that work, she was practically screaming inside, all those years of kissing up to them, and I get the leftovers while she gets the motherlode?

Meanwhile, Richard was doing his best to look cool and unbothered, but his mind was going a mile a minute. Twenty percent of Sterling Group. His eyes kept drifting to where Irene had disappeared. She’d definitely leveled up since the old days. That confidence, that poise – even the way she’d totally ignored him earlier? Kind of hot, actually.

Playing hard to get, he smirked to himself. Nice strategy, babe.

“This is insane!” Anna’s voice jerked him back to reality. “We can’t just let her walk away with this!”

“Of course not,” Richard said smoothly, but his head was already somewhere else. The two percent he’d get from marrying Anna? Please. Twenty percent was a whole different game.

She must be trying so hard to get my attention, he thought, his ego totally rewriting her earlier brush-off into some elaborate flirting scheme. Getting all those shares from the old man… Pretty clever move.

He caught his reflection in the window, adjusting his tie with practiced ease. Still the hottest catch in Silver City, hands down. Perfect hair, designer everything, that million-dollar smile – what woman in her right mind wouldn’t want another chance?

Just wait, Irene, he thought, confidence oozing from every pore. Play hard to get all you want, babe. They all come back eventually.

—

“Any chance you could speed it up a bit?” Irene was practically bouncing in the taxi’s backseat, checking her watch for the millionth time. “I really need to get back to my kids.”

The driver caught her eye in the mirror. “The Grand? Chill, ma’am. Most secure hotel in the city.”

Irene managed a tight smile. Usually, she didn’t stress about leaving her little geniuses alone – they were probably smarter than half the adults she knew – but this luggage mix-up had her nerves doing gymnastics.

—

The hotel’s fancy restaurant was buzzing with the usual afternoon crowd, but all eyes were on the corner table where three impossibly adorable five-year-olds were wrapping up their tea time.

“More scones, young sir?” The waiter was totally charmed by Alex’s mini-businessman act.

Alex dabbed his mouth with a napkin, looking like a tiny CEO. “They were perfect. Though maybe a touch more cream next time?”

“Alex!” Lily tugged at her brother’s sleeve, eyeing their carefully packed takeout bag. “Did you get Mom’s favorites? You know how she gets when she’s running around all day.”

“Got it covered, sis.” Alex patted the fancy paper bag like it was mission-critical cargo. “One salmon sandwich, hold the cucumber, extra avocado. Greek salad, double olives. And…” he grinned, “that lemon tart she totally loves but pretends she doesn’t.”

“I made sure they packed everything separate,” Lucas chimed in, proud of his contribution. “So nothing gets all gross and soggy.”

The other diners were dying, trying to hide their smiles behind menus and napkins. The triplets were like a live show of “Kids Say The Most Adorable Things.”

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