Chapter 2187

With every prestigious door shut in her face, Chelsea had no choice but to send her résumé to small private companies.

Most were run by owners who barely understood balance sheets. The moment they saw her six-figure salary expectation, they burst out laughing.

Only then did she realize that in places like these, she would earn—at best—one to two thousand a month.

Even that figure was considered generous, solely because she spoke several languages and could double as an overseas interpreter.

The reality bruised her pride, but necessity won. In the end, she accepted a secretary position at a modest firm.

When she told Jason, his expression tightened.
“Chelsea, you don’t need to work. I can support you.”

He knew how painfully ordinary the job was. Coming from modest means himself, he understood the slights and quiet humiliations that often came with small companies.

“Don’t ever say you’ll support me again,” Chelsea said firmly. “I don’t like it. I’m not useless. I can work, I can earn, I can take care of myself. Being with you doesn’t turn you into my paycheck.”

Jason immediately clamped his mouth shut.

“Okay,” he said. “I won’t bring it up again.”

Chelsea nodded decisively. “Good. We move forward together.”

Meanwhile, at Rainsworth Manor, Cecilia watched over the children while Elena played games with her friends.

One woman leaned forward. “So, how are Chelsea’s blind dates going? My nephew just flew back from abroad. I swear they’d talk for hours.”

Phoebe flicked a card onto the table. “That girl ignores everything we say. She refuses to meet anyone. We might as well give up.”

Naturally, Elena didn’t dare mention that Chelsea was currently living with a broke nobody. Family shame stayed behind closed doors.

If Chelsea ever came to her senses and dumped Jason, the matchmaking could resume—perhaps she’d finally land a husband worth bragging about.

“Chelsea isn’t exactly young anymore,” another woman sighed lightly as she arranged her tiles. “Time is slipping away.”

A third chimed in, “She’s only a few years younger than Cecilia. If she doesn’t get married soon, it’ll be hard for her to get pregnant.”

Then she turned to Elena with a playful smile. “You, on the other hand, are living the dream—four grandsons already. No worries left at all.”

Elena’s lips curved upward, satisfaction softening her gaze.

“That’s right,” she said smoothly. “I used to worry, but now I have grandsons—and more importantly, my freedom.”

Her freedom, of course, meant her divorce from Wren Rainsworth—signed, sealed, and court-approved.

“Exactly! All that’s left is enjoying life,” another matron agreed, clapping lightly.

With no husband to nurse, Elena’s position drew open envy.

It helped that her son was successful and dutiful—and that she herself possessed sharp business instincts.

The others were different. They still relied on their husbands’ wallets, tied down by both marriage and motherhood.

Listening to the praise, Phoebe felt envy bloom in her chest. She lost interest in the game and motioned for Cecilia to take her seat.

Cecilia had never liked these games, but she had learned from Elena that cards and tiles could turn into information—and information could be profit. The women often let household secrets slip, and fragments of their husbands’ business plans drifted freely in casual chatter.

Cecilia slid into the vacated chair.

Phoebe, meanwhile, entertained the two toddlers, snapping photos and sending them to Chelsea.

“Look at these two,” she texted. “Aren’t your cousins adorable? Ms. Seiler also has a relative who just came back from abroad—he’d suit you even better.”

The message vanished into the digital void.

No reply came.