Itzel was seething with anger.

"Riley, what's gotten into you? You used to follow me everywhere, saying you'd do anything to make me happy."

In my previous life, I had indeed given that piece of land to Itzel. But she had promptly handed it over to Adrian, who made quite a bit of money from it, only to lose everything at the poker table later.

I spoke calmly, "I have plans to develop luxury homes on this property now. I can't just give it away."

Adrian's façade slipped, his expression turning sour.

"Money, money, money. Is that all that matters to you now? Is money more important than our happiness? When did you become so distant? Are you still my Riley?"

This jerk was trying to manipulate me again. Thankfully, I no longer fell for his lies.

I brushed his hand away. "Without money, how am I supposed to support you and your mother? You both do nothing but demand cash from me. Where do you think I get it?"

Adrian hadn't anticipated my response, standing there momentarily stunned.

Just then, the manager from our development department entered with the project proposal for the luxury homes.

I laid out a choice for Adrian: "The estimated revenue for this project is about $20 billion, excluding the cost of the land. If you can come up with that money, I'll let you take it over."

The manager couldn't help but chuckle.

Adrian's face turned a series of livid shades.

Itzel declared she felt faint, calling me a curse and claiming I only brought her misery. Adrian and Carla helped her to the couch.

"Riley, I'm begging you, she's my only mom. Can't you just agree with her for once?" Adrian pleaded, his head hanging low.

"Sure, we could stop the project, but then we'd have to pay tens of millions in penalties. How about we sell all the properties to cover those costs, hmm?"

The mere mention of selling the house left Adrian speechless, not a sound from him or his supposedly fainting mother. She recovered quickly enough, back on her feet in no time.

To prevent Adrian Jones from harboring any lingering schemes, I organized a press conference and publicly announced the launch of our upscale real estate project. Once the event wrapped up, Carla Gibson invited me to visit a jewelry store with her. She had her eye on a piece created by a famous jeweler, carrying a price tag in the seven figures.

"Cousin, isn't this jewelry gorgeous? Does it look good on me?" Over the years, she had not only comfortably settled into my private estate but also secured a notable position in my company's finance department. Along with Adrian, they had siphoned off a considerable amount of money from the company.

"This piece is fairly average. I'm aware there are far more exquisite ones here," I remarked, motioning to the store manager. He promptly unveiled a new collection, with prices that had doubled. Carla couldn't stop comparing the jewelry, looking thoroughly pleased.

"Cousin, I need a favor from you. I'm an illegitimate child without proper documentation, and now Jabari is about to start preschool. Could you let him use your records for enrollment?" She had made this request in my previous life as well. At that time, I thought her situation was unfortunate, being a single mother with a complex background, and I agreed to help.

But later, when I faced trouble, Carla—driven by her desire to inherit my entire estate—neglected my daughter Chana during a severe fever. In the end, my daughter was left to die in the fire.

Seeing that I remained silent, Carla gripped my hand tightly. "Riley, you'll help me, won't you? Otherwise, Aunt Itzel will dredge up that old incident again."

She tried to use Itzel to pressure me, but I wasn't taking the bait. I replied calmly, "Let's talk about this later. My friend is coming over soon."

"Perfect timing, let's all grab lunch together. We should find a nice restaurant—wouldn't want to make your friend feel unwelcome."

Carla instructed the store manager to wrap up the necklace. "This necklace would look stunning on you. Many ladies have tried to reserve it; it’s quite in demand. Ma'am, you have impeccable taste," the sales associate chimed in flatteringly.

Once the necklace was packed, Carla stood nearby, expecting me to pay.

How amusing. Did she really think I was still going to buy it for her?