CHAPTER 211: SHE WAS STEPPING IN ON HER OWN TERMS

Christina, ever graceful, walked over to one of the display cases with the elegance of someone who had done this all her life.

"This one will suit you," she said, her tone warm but certain.

She reached into the case and picked up a piece so effortlessly it made Joanne’s knees weak. It was an elegant tiara—silver-filigree, glittering with a fan of diamonds and crowned with a single, luminous emerald the size of an acorn.

Joanne’s stomach dropped. The tiara sparkled like it held stars inside it.

Without hesitation, Christina placed it gently on Joanne’s head, adjusting it with care. Then she guided her by the shoulder toward a floor-length mirror resting at the far wall.

"See..." Christina said softly, standing behind her with quiet pride. "I was right."

Joanne stared at the mirror.

She had never looked like this before. In the reflection was a woman cloaked in firelight and silver. Regal, yes, but also vulnerable. Her hands lifted to gently support the tiara as if it might shatter, or worse, disappear. She looked like a queen, and yet she felt like the farmgirl who once used wildflowers as crowns.

Before she could say a word, Christina moved with fresh purpose. She flitted through the vault like a curator, collecting carefully chosen pieces—earrings, cuffs, a choker once worn by a duchess, a bracelet that had belonged to Jeffrey’s great-grandmother. Each piece more exquisite than the last, steeped in lineage and lore.

Joanne stood still, letting it all happen, but something inside her twisted. Not with resentment. Not envy. It was fear.

Real, low, humming fear.

She didn’t belong here. She could feel it in her bones.

"This farmgirl," she said quietly, with a wry smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, "isn’t made for diamonds and pearls. And certainly not for the kind of legacy this family holds."

Christina stilled. For a moment, silence stretched between them like a velvet ribbon.

She didn’t argue. She didn’t deny.

Instead, she stood there watching Joanne in the mirror. The jewels lit her like a constellation, but that wasn’t what Christina saw.

She saw posture.

Despite the weight of the tiara and the centuries-old rubies on her collarbone, Joanne stood with her back straight, chin lifted—not out of pride, but defiance. Not against Christina, or the jewels, or the family.

Defiance against the voice inside her that said she didn’t deserve any of this.

And her eyes.

Her green eyes glimmered—not just with awe, but with something softer. Something fiercer.

Hope. Determination. Love.

No, Christina thought. She hadn’t given up. These weren’t the words of surrender.

They were simply the words of a woman standing at the edge of something immense, and gathering the courage to step forward.

Christina watched her a moment longer, her gaze unreadable, then finally asked, "Have your feelings about entering this family changed from five years ago?"

It could’ve sounded like a provocation, coming from anyone else. But not Christina. She knew Joanne wouldn’t mistake it. It wasn’t a challenge, but it was an invitation to reflect.

Joanne turned from the mirror and met Christina’s eyes, her fingers still lightly resting on the tiara. She smiled—genuine, steady.

"Yes," she said, simply. Her voice didn’t waver.

"This time, Jeffrey chose me. He loves me."

There it was.

Not defiance. Not doubt. The quiet strength of truth, of certainty. It wasn’t just the answer to Christina’s question—it was the answer to every unspoken fear that had taken root in Joanne’s heart.

Jeffrey loves her. He chose to marry her. Not out of duty, not because of legacy or family politics, but out of love.

She breathed in, and her voice gained even more clarity. "The last time, I accepted Jeffrey. Just him. I didn’t think much about everything else as it didn’t matter. And this time... I’m accepting everything that comes with him. The legacy. The name. The burden and the blessing."

A pause.

"I’m accepting Jeffrey Winchester."

Christina didn’t speak immediately. She didn’t have to. Her expression said more than words could.

Her lips curved into a soft, proud smile—one that crinkled the corners of her eyes, where wisdom and weariness had lived for years. It wasn’t often that someone earned her respect so openly.

No one in the family—not the sons and the daughter, the grandchildren, nor even the polished in-laws—had ever managed to decipher the enigma of Philip Winchester. His silence had been a puzzle for decades, his intentions locked behind his stern eyes.

But this girl, this woman, had read him like a whisper in a storm.

Surely... surely Philip had been right.

He had seen what the rest of them hadn’t, or hadn’t dared to.

Joanne was not just a girl who’d walked in from the outside. She was someone who had once stood at the threshold, turned away, and now, she stood again with her head high, her heart clear, and her love unshaken.

She even returned the twelve million. There is nothing but love in her heart.

She wasn’t being invited into the family anymore.

She was stepping into it.

On her own terms.

"It would have been a lot easier if Jeffrey were just that man who came knocking at my door, holding that beautiful four-leaf clover..." Joanne’s voice trailed off, her eyes softening. The memory of that day bloomed like spring in her mind—Jeffrey standing at the edge of her world, still half a mystery, yet already hers. "I would’ve been content taking care of the farm while he took care of Shamrock Logistics..."

Christina chuckled suddenly, and Joanne blinked. The laughter was full and warm, like a bell echoing through a marble hall.

It startled her—not the sound itself, but the joy behind it. Christina’s laugh was elegant, like everything else about her, but right now it was also... genuine.

Joanne turned toward her, brows raised, unsure whether she was being mocked or praised. But no—there was nothing cruel about the way Christina looked at her. Quite the opposite. Her face was alight with a kind of maternal delight.

"Oh, goodness gracious! Good Heavens!" Christina’s voice lifted with laughter again, her hand fluttering to her chest as if trying to contain it.

Joanne was still trying to piece it together when Christina smiled knowingly and said, "Honey, if you were born in medieval times, you’d have been the greatest empress the world ever knew. And it wouldn’t have mattered if you married a prince or a peasant—you’d have made him into an emperor anyway. You would’ve stood beside him as he built an empire, and raised one too."

Joanne blinked, her lips parting in surprise.

"You think Jeffrey would’ve stayed Jeffrey Daniels in a small town?" Christina went on. "If he hadn’t been born into this, you would’ve turned him into a man who belonged here. You would’ve made Shamrock Logistics into the biggest name in the world. Because that’s who you are."

Joanne felt her throat tighten, the edges of her pride and disbelief tangling together like roots underground.