Michelle finally snapped. She whirled around, snarling, "Demi, enough! What kind of daughter insults her mother like this?"
Demi's gaze turned cold. "Uncomfortable, Mrs. Pitt? Feeling the urge to shout? How ironic. You constantly complained about my dirty hands, mud under my nails, and making your housekeeper supervise my scrubbing. Funny, I've developed cleanliness standards, too. And right now, you're what I consider filthy."
Michelle was speechless. Her breath came in ragged bursts, and she wanted to retort but didn't know how to.
"Another thing—keep your voice down. Don't blame me if someone overhears about your fake daughter's identity," Demi warned.
Michelle instantly scanned her surroundings in a panic.
"Close the door and leave. As I said, I'm busy." Demi's expression darkened further.
Michelle turned around and slammed the door.
"Psychotic bitch," Demi muttered, reopening her Indorian textbook.
Ken's hands tightened on the wheel, his mind reeling. So Demi was truly a Pitt by blood?
…
Michelle returned home, seething with anger. Stephen was already waiting for her on the couch in the living room.
When he saw her expression, he immediately asked, "Did you convince Demi?"
Michelle's eyes reddened as she complained bitterly, "Honey, you wouldn't believe how vicious Demi was! She called me filthy and told her driver to clean the car before I'd even stepped out!"
Stephen frowned. "What happened? Did you say something to upset her?"
"I didn't! She refused to talk anywhere else, so I had to get in her car. I humbled myself the entire time, pleading with her, but she was completely unreasonable. She just kept mocking me!" Michelle's voice trembled with growing indignation.
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