No money of my own to buy clothes? They must think I'm lying otherwise, where did all these nice clothes on me come from?
"All of these were bought by President Anderson. They're designer brands, yes, but they're not the style I like."
I tugged lightly at the clothes I was wearing and pretended to cry. "Even if I had money of my own, I wouldn't dare buy anything in a different style. I can only follow President Anderson's taste."
See, Miss William? Look how miserable I supposedly am. Hurry up and leave him!
Mrs. Lauren Bailey obviously didn't believe it. How could the wife of President Anderson live such a pitiful life?
"Rosy, you're not lying to us, are you?" she asked, brows tightening in displeasure.
My eyes reddened. I looked at the two of them with the most helpless innocence I could muster.
"It's all true. Why would I lie to you? If you don't believe me, you can speak up for me in front of President Anderson. Maybe then I'll finally be allowed to use some personal spending money."
The moment I said that, I smiled naïvely.
Mrs. Bailey immediately shut her mouth.
Ask President Anderson?
That would be the same as marching straight into death.
Mr. Bailey pressed his lips together, his expression darkening. He seemed unhappy with my attitude.
"Rosy, if the Bailey family weren't struggling right now, your mother and I would never have thrown away our pride to come ask you for help."
Struggling?
I frowned inwardly.
Didn't Captain already return seventy percent of the company's shares to him?
How could they still be struggling?
Unless Mr. Bailey had fallen back into gambling again and gone elsewhere to blow the money?
I only thought this quietly. I had no intention of asking. I couldn't care less about their business. But now they had the nerve to show up and beg me for money ridiculous. Did they think I was really their personal ATM?
Fine. Time to crush that delusion.
"Alright then, I'll give you all the personal money I have."
I reached into my pocket. A fresh, crisp banknote immediately appeared in my hand.
I stared at it with exaggerated reluctance, then finally handed it to Mr. Bailey, my eyes reddening as if I had just been bullied.
"This is everything I secretly saved behind President Anderson's back over a very long time. I'm giving it all to you now. I hope it can help the Bailey family through this difficult period."
Even as I said that, my eyes clung to the bill, as if I might snatch it back at any second.
Mr. Bailey's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
After all that fuss, I only gave them one bill?
Was I trying to feed a beggar?
"Rosy, are you kidding us?" Mrs. Bailey snapped, losing patience.
But I only looked even more innocent. My dark eyes were clear and glossy, like freshly washed glass, my expression both calm and pitiful.
"I'm not lying. This really is everything I managed to save. It wasn't easy, you know. Don't look down on it just because it's one bill, it can buy a lot of lollipops."
Mrs. Bailey was so furious she couldn't speak.
Lollipops?
They needed money, a lot of money!
"We need seventeen and a half billion," Mr. Bailey said, dropping the pretense and going straight to the point.
At that, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
My eyes widened in terror, and my face instantly went paper white.
"Dear God, seventeen and a half billion? Even if I saved for my entire life, I wouldn't have that much! Why don't you go ask President Anderson? I'm only his wife in name. I only have this tiny bit of money."
My panic and innocence looked so real that the Baileys, after hesitating, actually believed me.
But of course they didn't dare ask President Anderson for money.
The last time they did, he demanded their daughter in exchange.
Who knew what insane request he would make this time?
In an instant, their attitudes toward me changed.
The fear and caution were gone, replaced entirely by contempt and disdain.
"Let's go home," Mrs. Bailey hissed. "She clearly doesn't have a cent. We thought marrying into the Anderson family meant she'd turn into a phoenix. Turns out she's not even as good as a mistress."
A mistress could at least send money to her family.
But me? I didn't even have personal spending money.
Beautiful on the outside, oppressed on the inside, truly the useless, rustic illegitimate daughter they had always believed me to be.
Mr. Bailey stared at me with a complicated expression before finally leaving.
Before going, they even took the gift box back with them.
I narrowed my eyes, quietly watching their retreating figures, the corner of my lips lifting into a mocking smile.
So stingy.
Truly eye-opening.
Now they were convinced I was nothing more than a powerless, pitiful decorative wife. Perfect.
If they believed that, they wouldn't bother me again anytime soon.
Peace at last.
I hugged Becgie and played with his chubby paw.
"Little Becgie, the annoying people finally left."
At that moment, Nanny Alley and Ronan returned.
Both of them looked confused when the Baileys arrived, they were smiling happily, yet when they left, they were furious and even took their gifts back. They had never seen people so rude.
Seeing their curious gazes, I looked up and smiled sweetly, soft and harmless like a little white rabbit.
I carefully tucked the banknote back into my pocket.
I hadn't lied, this really was all the personal cash I had.
Sure, I had a black card from Captain, a land transfer document, and a red diamond wedding ring, but I didn't dare touch any of those.
What if we separated someday?
It would be a nightmare.
"Sister-in-law, what did you just put in your pocket?" Ronan asked. Whatever it was, I seemed to treasure it dearly.
I smiled sweetly. "A single banknote. My personal money."
Ronan: "…"
People used cards for everything nowadays. It had been a long time since anyone saw physical cash.
"President Anderson didn't give you a card to use?"
The living room fell strangely silent.
I pretended not to notice Ronan's conflicted expression.
I stretched lazily on the sofa, then prepared to go upstairs and practice piano.
"I'm done resting. I'll go practice. You two relax."
And just like a little rabbit, I bolted for the music room.
The piano room was spacious and empty, with only a white piano inside. A soft breeze drifted in through the floor-to-ceiling window, making the curtains ripple gracefully.
The white piano had been purchased long ago, but this was my first time ever setting foot inside the room.