Sylvia froze, stunned. She thought she''d yed it safe, but she''d still been set up.

    Naomi, sensing trouble, quickly stepped in front of her.

    "It wasn''t Sylvia. She doesn''t know anything about this."

    Tristan narrowed his eyes, his voice sharp. "Then it must be you, Naomi. After all, the money ended up in your ount."

    Naomi was speechless, her eyes filling with tears.

    Sylvia lifted her chin, meeting Tristan''s icy gaze. His shrewd, imposing stare was utterly unforgiving, and the disgust in his eyes was unmistakable.

    Tightly pressing her lips together, Sylvia shifted her gaze to Rupert, who sat calmly sipping his coffee, a cold glint in his eyes.

    "Well?" Rupert said quietly, "Need me to tell you what to say?"

    Sylvia sucked in a shaky breath. She tried to speak, but the bitterness rising in her throat almost choked her.

    It felt like a noose-every time she tried to escape, it only pulled tighter.

    Rupert wouldn''t let her go, and Tristan was just as relentless.

    She stared them down, her voice steady and cold: "It wasn''t me. And it wasn''t my mom."

    "Still talking back?" Tristan snapped. He wanted to see her grovel, wanted her and Naomi out of the Garcia house for good.

    With that, Tristan flung a cup of hot coffee at Sylvia. She didn''t flinch. Instead, she calmly stepped forward, grabbed some napkins, and slowly wiped herself off, her gaze locked on Tristan.

    "First off, the bracelet design was custom-made. Besides you, only Uncle Rupert and Ms. Sanford knew about it before it arrived. My mom and I didn''t even know until the package showed up."

    "If it were just a couple of bracelets, maybe you could pin it on us. But we''re talking dozens—there''s no way we could''ve swapped them all in just a few days."

    "So, if you look at it logically, only you three had the opportunity."

    Tristan hesitated, not expecting Sylvia to fight back. But so what? Sylvia was na?ve if she thought logic or evidence mattered here. Even if the police showed up, Naomi couldn''t exin away the three hundred thousand dors in her ount. Everyone in the house would point fingers, and Sylvia''s words wouldn''t count for much.

    Ignoring her argument, Tristan dered, "The evidence is clear. Someone, go pack up Naomi''s things and toss them out. We don''t harbor thieves in this family!"

    He kept his eyes on Sylvia the whole time-a threat, a warning.

    But Sylvia didn''t break. She didn''t step forward to take the me for Naomi.

    Not that it mattered. Tristan''s goal was the same: either pin it on Sylvia, or get rid

    of them both. Either oue worked for him.

    Time ticked by. Sylvia stayed silent. Even Naomi, through her tears, stood firm and refused to confess.

    At that moment, Kay clicked her tongue. "Well, I always thought the Garcias were strict about family honor. Seems like anyone can slip through the cracks. What a disgrace."

    "Kay, that''s enough!" Edwin said, voice tense.

    "Oh, feeling sorry for them, Edwin? Maybe you''d like to pay back the money yourself?" Kay raised an eyebrow.

    Edwin didn''t bite. “Naomi wouldn''t do this. If she goes, I''m leaving too. I''ll get to the bottom of this."

    Kay''s expression hardened. "So I''m the bad guy now, just for asking for answers for Reese?"

    "Aunt Kay, please," Reese interrupted, face scrunched with worry. "Let''s just investigate first."

    "No, Reese. If they''re willing to bully you now, who knows what''ll happen next?" Kay snapped.

    She''d drawn a line in the sand. If the Garcias didn''t act, it would mean outright bullying Reese.

    Tristan shot a nce at the butler. "Bring the family paddle. We''ll get a confession out of them one way or another."

    "Why? Who gives you the right to force us?" Sylvia shouted.

    "No one. But if your mother wants

    stay a part of this family, she''ll

    follow our rules. If not, you both can

    leght now!" Tristan baran

    pointing toward the front door.