Chapter 157: Claire Porter Set Down Her Teacup with Deliberate Care

Claire Porter set down her teacup with deliberate care. "A woman's greatest virtue is staying true to herself. Those seemingly easy shortcuts are often traps in disguise."

Clara Whitmore nodded softly. "You're absolutely right, Aunt Claire."

"Do you truly mean that?" A flicker of relief passed through Claire's eyes.

"Of course."

"Good." She exhaled. "Return that villa immediately. I'll cover the penalty fee."

Clara arched an eyebrow.

Claire's expression darkened. "Were my words wasted on you?"

A sudden smile curved Clara's lips. "I've taken your advice to heart. But—"

Her fingertip tapped the tabletop. "Every penny I spend is cleanly earned. While I appreciate your concern, there's no need to assume the worst."

The message couldn't be clearer.

"That villa is my parents' retirement home. The paperwork is already finalized." She stood, smoothing her sleeves. "Also, I'd suggest exercising more discretion when offering unsolicited advice."

This wasn't discussion—it was declaration.

Claire stormed out, the door slamming behind her.

"Ungrateful wretch!" Her venomous glare lingered before she disappeared.

Daniel Whitmore frowned. "Ignore her."

Helen Whitmore snorted. "Barging in to lecture without understanding the situation."

Every word had insinuated their daughter's wealth was ill-gotten.

Clara felt no anger, only concern that rumors might spread, inviting more meddling relatives.

Strangely, the following week passed undisturbed.

Moving preparations progressed methodically.

Daniel agonized over transplanting his beloved garden—three full days spent relocating the aged osmanthus tree alone.

Helen meticulously packed her treasured book collection.

By Lantern Night, their new home stood ready.

Transplanted wisteria climbed fresh trellises while a swing swayed gently in the breeze. Tender amaranth sprouts dotted the newly tilled vegetable patch.

Though the front yard remained bare, spring would transform it into a floral paradise.

The move spawned one amusing incident.

Neighbor Brooke Walsh spent days peering over the fence, convinced they were fleeing.

"So, where are you off to?" she finally drawled, leaning against their doorframe with false sweetness.