“Please say it,” Amelia said right away.
If this could save her studio, she would agree to ten conditions – maybe even more.
“You need to go take care of the weeds in the garden today. They’re swallowing the flowers I planted.”
“What?” Amelia blinked, stunned.
She never expected this. It was so simple that her brain couldn’t catch up.
Pull some weeds? That’s it?
She asked without thinking, “Are … are you sure?”
The man didn’t bother explaining. His voice cut her off, slightly annoyed, “Which account should I send the rent refund to?”
Amelia snapped out of it and quickly gave him Amanda’s bank number.
“Hold on.”
Amelia stood by the river with her phone in her hand, staring at nothing.
Not even a minute passed before Amanda sent her a screenshot – the transfer had arrived.
All three quarters of the rent had been refunded down to the last dollar.
As Amelia stared at those numbers, her eyes suddenly burned.
She didn’t expect this at all.
She had been rejected again and again by clients she had known for years. She had been judged, ignored, and pushed aside. But a landlord she had never even met – a stranger – had offered her trust and kindness without hesitation.
That warmth hit her so hard she almost cried.
“Uncle, thank you so much! Oh – may I know your name?”
The man paused.
Then his calm voice sank several degrees.
“What did you just call me?”
Amelia blinked, confused. Maybe he didn’t hear me clearly?
So she repeated even more politely, “I called you ‘Uncle.’”
The moment she said it, she heard the sharp sound of someone trying to control their breathing.
The next second, the man snapped, icy cold, “Don’t call me that.”
Then he hung up.
Amelia stared at her phone, confused.
Did I say something wrong?
Why did he sound angry?
He’s not going to ask for the money back … right?
Just as her nerves were about to explode, a text came in. “Don’t forget what you promised me.”
Amelia finally let out a long breath and replied quickly. “Got it. I’m heading over now!”
Then she called Amanda and asked her to wait at the villa gate so they could pull weeds together.
On the other side of town, Mason hung up the phone and rubbed his forehead with long fingers. A thin layer of frost covered his handsome face. That bright, clear “Uncle” still echoed in his mind.
How did Amelia get such a ridiculous idea?
He pressed his desk phone and called in his secretary.
“Check if Amelia’s studio is having financial trouble.”
The secretary answered right away, “Mr. Everett, Ms. Harlow fought with Ethan. He froze all the assets under her name.”
Mason’s brows pulled tight. His thoughts drifted back to many years ago.
He remembered Amelia back then – barely an adult – thrown out by her family. She stood on the curb with a suitcase in her hand, drenched from the rain, back straight, even though she looked like a stray cat that refused to bow its head.
After all these years, she was still so easy for people to hurt.
The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he became.
He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, then suddenly stopped the secretary who was about to leave.
“Wait.”
The secretary turned back, respectful. “Mr. Everett, do you have more instructions?”
Mason paused for a long moment, then finally asked in a low voice, “What kind of person gets called ‘Uncle’ by a stranger on the phone?”
The secretary froze, clearly not expecting such a personal question.
He thought for a few seconds and answered carefully, “Uh … usually people who have quiet profile photos and very boring social-media pages. They’re often mistaken for being … older.”
Mason’s lips pressed into a hard, unhappy line.
Okay … yeah. I really am that kind of person.
Amelia was wearing gloves while she and Amanda worked hard pulling out the crazy weeds in the villa’s garden. The smell of soil mixed with fresh grass made the tightness in Amelia’s chest fade for the first time in days.
“Amelia, your landlord is amazing!” Amanda said as she tossed weeds into a trash bag. “He refunded the rent so fast. There aren’t many kind people like him anymore!”
She had completely forgotten that, when they first viewed the house, she thought the discounted rent meant the landlord might be a creep.
“There are still good people out there,” Amelia said with a small smile.
The two were young and worked quickly. By noon, they had cleaned up the whole garden. It looked neat and open again.
Amelia took a photo and sent it to Mason. “The weeds are gone. But the garden looks a little empty now. Do you want me to plant
No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I’m Done!something? Any flowers in specific?”
She expected him to give instructions or ignore the message. But his reply came in the same light, effortless tone. “You decide.”
Amelia stared at the message. This landlord … is really too kind.
She thought the conversation was done. She was about to put down her phone when Amanda suddenly let out a scream.
“Wow! Amelia! Look!” Amanda held up her phone. On the screen was a bank notification. “Some … someone just sent me 300 thousand dollars! The note says … deposit!”
Amelia jerked in surprise, and before she could ask anything, her own phone buzzed.
A new message from Mason. “Make a gown for me. I’m giving it to an older woman. Use the best material you have. Charge whatever you want. The deposit has been sent.”
Amelia read the message over and over.
Then she looked at the giant payment on Amanda’s screen. She was completely stunned.
My landlord had suddenly turned into my customer?
Amanda was almost shaking. “Amelia! I told you! He is definitely some super low-key rich guy! He spends money like it’s nothing!”
With that deposit – and the refunded rent – the studio finally had cash again.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.