C13 Old Madame Ramirez's Anger!

After leaving the Green Pavilion, Rollins made a quick stop at the supermarket to pick up some vegetables before heading home. Upon arrival, he found his mother-in-law, Tracy, brooding on the sofa, a scowl etched on her face. The humiliation she had suffered at the Green Pavilion was clearly still festering.

Catching sight of Rollins, Tracy's frustration boiled over. "With Zoie's looks, she could have had anyone! And yet, she's stuck with someone like you, lower than a pig!" Despite Rollins having resolved her husband's eight-million-yuan dilemma, she remained unimpressed, convinced of his inadequacy. Rollins frowned at the familiar disdain.

Tracy, seething with anger, snatched the family register and slammed it onto the coffee table. "Zoie, you must divorce this loser today! With your beauty, you'd have wealthy suitors lining up at your door!"

Zoie quickly interjected, "Mom, please, it's not all Rollins's fault. Let's not make a scene." She might not have been his biggest fan, but the thought of divorce was unpalatable to her. She knew Rollins lacked ambition, but his heart was in the right place, unlike the fickle affections of the wealthy men who had once courted her. She had no desire to be a plaything for the rich. Sometimes, she admitted, there was a certain charm to their simple life together.

Tracy, now in hysterics, wailed, "I can't take this anymore! A useless son-in-law and a disobedient daughter! I might as well be dead!"

"Go start on dinner, will you?" Zoie said to Rollins, trying to defuse the situation.

"Sure thing," Rollins replied, ducking into the kitchen as Tracy hurled one last insult in his direction, pointing at Zoie, "Even if you don't divorce him today, it's inevitable!"

Zoie reassured her, "Mom, relax. I'm not getting a divorce."

"You're trying to kill me with this stress!" Tracy exclaimed, exasperated.

Zoie could only turn away, her mother's dramatics washing over her.

Later that evening, after a quiet dinner, Rollins settled onto his makeshift bed on the floor of their bedroom. Zoie, still troubled by the day's events and the mockery at the Green Pavilion, lay on the bed with her back to him, silent and lost in thought.

"Don't worry about the gift for tomorrow, okay? I'll take care of it," Rollins said, trying to ease his wife's frustration.

"Just go to sleep. And let's stop playing rich, okay?"

Zoie's voice was cold and sharp. Clearly, she had little faith that the issue would be resolved. Since marrying Rollins, it seemed her family had faced nothing but challenges, largely due to his shortcomings.

She felt helpless and aggrieved, but there was nothing she could do.

The night passed in silence.

The next morning, the family got ready to drive to the Ramirez family villa for today's engagement banquet.

Zoie slipped into a stunning blue dress and applied light makeup, looking radiant.

Hasten and Tracy, on the other hand, were anxious. They had failed to secure a two-million-dollar gift as Old Madame Ramirez had demanded.

Upon entering the courtyard, Rollins noticed the mocking glances from the relatives. He was unfazed; such looks had become all too familiar over the years.

Zoie let out a quiet sigh, feeling uncomfortable. She excused herself to the restroom.

When she emerged, Rollins was waiting. They walked towards the living room without speaking, but before they could get there, Zoie heard a cry that sounded like her mother, Tracy.

Her heart raced as she hurried forward, with Rollins close behind.

Once in the living room, they were met with Old Madame Ramirez's furious tirade. "You're all worthless! Especially that son-in-law of yours, Rollins, doing nothing but wasting his days. What use does your family have to the Ramirezes?"

Tracy was on her knees, repeatedly kicked to the ground by the old lady, her face and chest marked with the evidence of earlier slaps.

Old Madame Ramirez had never thought highly of her son Hasten, and even less of his wife Tracy. She had pinned her hopes on Zoie marrying well, but instead, Zoie chose Rollins, a man she deemed a complete failure.

From that moment, Old Madame Ramirez's disappointment and disdain for the family knew no bounds.

Today was supposed to be a joyous occasion, the engagement banquet of her cherished granddaughter, Elena. Yet, Tracy had brought nothing but a meager platinum necklace, defying the clear instructions that the dowry gift should be no less than two million. The old lady's pride was deeply wounded by this blatant disrespect.

"Mom..." Zoie rushed to her mother's side, supporting Tracy as she confronted her grandmother. "What has she done to deserve this?"

Old Madame Ramirez looked down at Zoie with contempt, suddenly hurling a gift box at her face.

"And you have the nerve to ask what's wrong? Do you even realize what today is? It's Elena's engagement, and this is what you bring?" she accused. "Are we a joke to the Perez family? Is this your idea of respect?"

Zoie picked up the gift box, revealing the platinum necklace she had purchased the day before.

It was worth noting that she had never adorned herself with such a lavish necklace before, a luxury neither she nor Tracy could typically afford.

Yet, even this was deemed unworthy, a disgrace to the Ramirez name.

The favoritism was palpable.

Zoie felt a wave of frustration.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her father, Hasten, amidst the crowd.

She gave him a desperate look, silently begging for his intervention. But he merely took a couple of steps forward before retreating back into the crowd, avoiding her gaze.

Zoie's hope dwindled. If her own father wouldn't stand up for them, who in this family would?

"Grandma, Dad's business took a hit; he's invested all our savings and now we're six million in debt. This necklace was already a splurge," Zoie said, her voice tinged with anger. "What more do you want from us?"

Old Madame Ramirez's face flushed with rage. In a fit of fury, she grabbed her teacup and hurled it at them.

Zoie spun around, shielding her mother with her own body, bracing for the impact.

But the expected pain never came.

Turning back, she saw a towering figure standing protectively in front of her. Rollins, his back scalded red, seemed unfazed by the pain as he asked with concern, "Honey, are you okay?"

Zoie shook her head, a surge of warmth flooding her heart.

She never imagined that her so-called good-for-nothing husband would step up to shield her in a moment of crisis.

Just then, a voice from outside interrupted the tension: "Grandma, Third Uncle's arrived in a Porsche!"