THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.

At that moment, hearing is father words Oliver halted mid-step, his hand resting on the doorknob. Slowly, he turned his head toward his father, his face blank, but his eyes burning with quiet defiance. The air in the room was more tense now, the silence sharp enough to cut.

"Why do you keep repeating yourself?" Oliver asked, his tone calm but heavy, every word deliberate. "I've already said it once, that I'm no longer part of this family. So why keep shouting it? Are you trying to convince me… or yourself?"

Immediately his father's jaw tightened, the muscles in his face twitching as the weight of Oliver's words sank in. For a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The silence was louder than any argument they had shared.

Without another word, Oliver turned his back to them, opened the door, and walked out. The sound of the door shutting behind him echoed through the house, final and cold.

For a brief moment, the room was still. The only sound was William's uneven breathing until he suddenly erupted, unable to contain himself.

"That prick!" William shouted, slamming his fist against the arm of the couch. "That ungrateful bastard!" His voice cracked with rage, his words tumbling out like venom. "Just look at him, walking out like he's some hero, when he's nothing but a mistake! A fool, just like his mother!"

Their father turned sharply toward him, his expression stern, but William didn't stop. He was pacing now, his anger spilling into every movement.

"She was a gold digger, and everyone knows it!" William spat, his hands balling into fists. "That's all she ever was. And him? He's no better. Look at what he just did disrespecting you to your face! Didn't even have the decency to apologize!"

At that moment he stopped pacing, chest heaving as he faced his father directly.

"But don't worry," William said, his tone dropping, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "I'll handle this. Even if it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure I put him in his place."

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with a cold, calculating resolve.

"In fact," he continued, almost smirking now, "I'm already working on something. A plan. And it's going to succeed, because it involves Cora's Ex-husband. And trust me… once this plan goes through, Oliver won't know what hit him, he would be so embarrassed that I did it without him."

Hearing those words from William, his father's expression shifted instantly. The anger that had clouded his face moments ago gave way to something else, suspicion mixed with curiosity. He straightened slightly, his voice lowering but carrying a sharp edge.

"Wait," his father said, his gaze locking on William. "Is that true? Did I hear you correctly? You're having a meeting with Cora's ex-husband today?" Again he leaned forward, brows knitting together. "What exactly are you talking about, William? What are you planning?"

William, still standing with his hands shoved in his pockets, tilted his head toward his father with a faint smirk curling at the edge of his lips.

"Relax," he muttered, almost casually. "I'm not planning anything crazy. Not yet."

His father's stare hardened. "Not yet?"

William let out a short breath, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, and then continued. "Cora's ex-husband reached out to me first. It surprised me, honestly. Said he's got something I might be interested in, something that would benefit me… and I'm. sure it might hurt Oliver at the same time."

Their father's brows shot up slightly, his curiosity piqued even more. "And you believe him?"

William shrugged, stepping a little closer. "I don't trust him, not completely. But think about it, if things didn't work out between him and Cora, then he's bitter. And bitter men are dangerous… but also useful. He wants revenge on her. I want her for myself. That gives us common ground, don't you think?"

Then his father leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The anger he had toward Oliver just moments ago seemed to have shifted into calculation.

"So… this ex-husband of hers," he said slowly, "he's offering you something?"

William's smirk widened. "More like an opportunity. He hinted at knowing things about Cora that nobody else does, things that could tilt everything in my favor. He didn't give details yet, but I can tell he's desperate. Desperate men talk eventually, and he was the same guy I dealt with on the ceremony. All I have to do is let him think we're on the same side now."

At that moment a long silence followed as his father studied him, the tension in the room now replaced with a heavy anticipation. Finally, he gave a single nod.

"Fine," his father said firmly. "If this gives us an edge, then do what's needful. Meet him. Hear him out. And if there's even a grain of truth in what he offers…" His eyes narrowed slightly, his tone dropping to something colder. "…then use it. Get every single bit of it. Whatever it takes."

William's smirk hardened into something darker, his mind already racing ahead to the possibilities. "Don't worry, Father," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "I intend to."

**

At that moment, Oliver sat behind the wheel, his knuckles white against the steering wheel, his jaw still clenched from the chaos he had just left behind. The heated words with William and his father echoed in his head like a storm that wouldn't quiet down. He had barely even started the engine when his phone buzzed sharply against the console.

He glanced at the screen, half-expecting another unwanted call from someone. But when he saw the name, his brow eased slightly, it was Lisa.

He swiped to answer, bringing the phone to his ear. "What's up?" His tone was flat, but calmer than it had been moments ago.

Lisa's voice came through quickly. "Oliver, I just got off the line with my uncle. He's agreed. Everything I pitched to him, he's on board. The meeting is set for tomorrow. Don't be late. This might be the only window you get to settle things about the collateral shares."

For the first time that evening, Oliver exhaled a slow breath, leaning back in the seat as some of the weight on his shoulders eased. He stared out the windshield, as his thoughts shifted from family drama to the task ahead.

"Tomorrow," Oliver repeated, his voice steadier now. "No problem. I'll be there. I'll stick to it."