Chapter 200

The woman was indeed Margret, but she was unrecognizable from her former self. In all their previous encounters, Margret had been the epitome of wealth—draped in designer clothes or handcrafted silk dresses, adorned with carefully selected jewelry, her hair styled to perfection. The walking embodiment of old money. Today, she matched Katie’s description perfectly—startlingly plain.

No makeup, her face drawn and haggard, her skin with an unhealthy yellow tinge, dark circles prominent beneath her eyes. She wore a simple gray outfit that could have come from any department store. She looked like any ordinary middle-aged suburban mom, with no trace of her former sophistication. The Ashcroft empire had truly crumbled. Even image-obsessed Margret had been reduced to this state.

Thalia felt a flicker of satisfaction. How the mighty had fallen. She walked deliberately toward Margret. Seeing Thalia, Margret rushed forward, reaching desperately for her arm, only to be firmly blocked by Alana.

“Thalia, please,” Margret begged, her former arrogance completely evaporated. “You have to help us save Ashcroft Group. The Winters family has the resources—if you’d just invest, I’ll do absolutely anything you ask!”

Thalia couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Anything I ask?”

“Yes, yes,” Margret nodded frantically. “Whatever you want. Please help us. We’re completely ruined. Howard’s in the hospital from stress, Drake’s drinking himself to death. Our family is falling apart—we’re barely holding on.”

Thalia regarded her with cool amusement. “And what exactly could you possibly do for me?”

Margret faltered, caught off guard. What could she offer Thalia? She hadn’t thought that far. In her desperation, she’d made promises without considering what they might entail.

“I… couldn’t you do it for Drake’s sake?” Margret tried. “After all, you were together for three years. You loved each other once. Can you really stand by and watch him destroy himself?”

Mentioning Drake was exactly the wrong move.

“Mrs. Ashcroft,” Thalia said, her tone making the title sound like an insult.

Margret winced visibly. The once-proud designation now felt like mockery, and Thalia had intended exactly that. With a cold smile, Thalia asked, “Mrs. Ashcroft, do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?”

Margret’s face drained of color. She remembered perfectly. When Sienna had returned from abroad, Margret had been determined to orchestrate a marriage between her and Drake. Upon learning Drake had a girlfriend of three years—someone without the “right” background or connections—she’d been determined to eliminate the competition. So she’d confronted Thalia and humiliated her mercilessly.

“A girl like you thinking she could marry into the Ashcroft family?” she’d sneered. She’d assumed Thalia was with Drake solely for financial gain. She’d believed Thalia was just another gold-digger dreaming of a wealthy husband, someone who could never truly belong in their world. Her words had dripped with contempt:

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I know exactly what you’re after. I understand my son is attractive to girls like you. Finding a wealthy heir like him doesn’t happen every day. He must have spent a fortune on you.”

“Let’s drop the act. You claim you don’t care about money, but if that were true, why chase after Drake in the first place?”

“Let me make this perfectly clear: the Ashcroft family doesn’t welcome just anyone. Marrying Drake? Not in this lifetime!”

“Sienna is my choice for a daughter-in-law. Her family and ours go back generations, and she was Drake’s first love. I suggest you take the hint. Pack your things and leave. Make room for the right woman at Drake’s side!”

She’d said much more, all designed to humiliate Thalia, to remind her of her perceived inferiority and crush any aspirations deemed inappropriate.

Recalling this now, Margret felt physically ill with regret.

“No, that’s not—I didn’t mean—” she stumbled over her words. “Thalia, please let me explain. I thought you were just…”

Margret caught herself mid-sentence. Just a nobody from nowhere. Just after our money. Just a gold-digger. These were words she couldn’t possibly voice now.

“Just what?” Thalia prompted, her gaze unflinching.

Margret fumbled, unable to finish her thought.

“Just a gold-digger after Drake’s money?” Thalia supplied with a cold smile. “Is that what you were going to say?”

Margret looked down guiltily, her silence confirming Thalia’s words.

“Funny thing,” Thalia said, her expression hardening, “I once planned to bring Drake home to meet my family. I even considered investing in Ashcroft Group.”

Margret’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. “Then why didn’t you?”

If she’d known Thalia came from such wealth, Sienna would never have been in the picture. If Drake had married Thalia, he’d now be the son-in-law of one of the country’s wealthiest families instead of drowning in debt! The realization was devastating.

“Because your son shared your opinion,” Thalia replied with a humorless smile. “He also believed I wasn’t good enough for him.”

Margret stood frozen, processing this bombshell.

“People who dismiss genuine feelings tend to learn their lessons the hard way,” Thalia said coldly. “You should go. I won’t be helping you.”

“I was wrong—I’m so sorry,” Margret blurted, tears springing to her eyes. “I’ll do anything—run errands, fetch coffee. If you’re holding a grudge, you can humiliate me however you want. Please, just help our family.”

Their properties and vehicles had all been seized, their accounts frozen. She’d sold her jewelry and designer items at consignment shops, barely covering Howard’s medical bills with almost nothing left for daily expenses. They’d moved to a cheap apartment in a run-down neighborhood. She’d never lived in such conditions—no elevator, occasional roaches and mice. Their household staff had been dismissed. She now cooked every meal herself, producing barely edible food. She’d lost significant weight. They’d approached every friend and connection. Not one had offered help. In desperation, she’d turned to Thalia.

As Margret spoke, her emotions spiraled, her voice rising and breaking with sobs. Hospital visitors began to stare at the unfolding scene.

“We don’t need household help,” Thalia said coldly. “Your begging is pointless because your family’s current situation is exactly what I wanted.”

“I don’t typically go out of my way to ruin people, Mrs. Ashcroft,” Thalia continued, her gaze arctic. “But I have a long memory for slights. You humiliated me once. Now I’m evening the score.”

“What are you saying?” Margret’s tears stopped abruptly. “Are you claiming Ashcroft Group’s bankruptcy was your doing?”

“Exactly,” Thalia replied with calm satisfaction. “Your past behavior was just one reason. Your precious son collaborated with the Blackwoods’ adopted daughter, working for their illegitimate son—nearly destroying my family. Your bankruptcy was my calculated response.”

“You?” Margret’s expression transformed into pure rage. “You vindictive little bitch!”

Realizing Thalia would never help them, Margret’s façade of humility vanished as she launched into a tirade of abuse. A growing crowd gathered, drawn to the spectacle unfolding in the hospital lobby.