The heavy porcelain plate hit my face before I even had the chance to stand.

The following afternoon, I hosted a quiet lunch at an upscale restaurant near the financial district.

Felix and Rya arrived promptly at 1:00 PM. Rya was dressed impeccably in a subtle cream-colored suit, projecting the image of a humble, dignified daughter-in-law ready to heal family wounds.

Marcus Chen sat beside me at the table, a crisp leather folder resting beside his iced tea.

“Thank you for meeting us, Dela,” Rya said, offering a sweet, subdued smile as she unfolded her napkin. “Felix and I haven't stopped talking about how important it is for us to move forward as a united family.”

“I agree,” I replied smoothly. “And to ensure that our family bond is built on absolute transparency, Marcus has prepared the agreement we discussed yesterday.”

Marcus slid two copies of the document across the white tablecloth.

Felix picked up his copy, skimming the headers with a tired sigh. “Mom, is all this legal jargon really necessary? We already told you we don't want your money.”

“If you don't want it, Felix, then signing it is merely a formality,” Marcus explained politely. “This document creates an absolute firewall around the Morrison Commercial Trust. It explicitly states that any assets acquired by Morrison Holdings prior to or during your marriage remain exclusively under Dela’s control, with zero spousal inheritance or divorce claims available to third parties.”

Rya picked up her pen, her hand hovering over the paper. Her expression was serene, but I watched her fingers press so hard against the silver pen that her nails turned white.

She read through section four—the clause detailing the total forfeiture of spousal support in the event of legal separation—and her eyes narrowed for a microsecond.

“This is very thorough,” Rya murmured, setting the pen down softly on the table. “However... section seven seems a bit unusual.”

“Section seven?” Marcus asked, leaning forward.

“It states that any future children born to Felix and me will also be excluded from automatic trust distributions until they reach the age of thirty-five, subject to Dela’s personal approval,” Rya said, her voice dripping with artificial concern. “Felix... doesn't that seem a little controlling to you? What if our children need medical support or private education?”

Felix looked at me, a flash of frustration returning to his brow. “Mom, why would you restrict my future kids like that?”

“Because, Felix,” I answered calmly, looking directly into Rya’s eyes, “I believe that hard work and character build a human being, not unearned trust funds. I built my fortune from zero after your father died. I want to ensure my grandchildren are raised with the same work ethic.”

Rya smiled, but the warmth had completely vanished from her eyes.

“Of course, Dela,” Rya said smoothly. “I completely respect your vision. But as a mother-to-be, I need to ensure my future family is protected. I’d like my family’s attorney to review this before I sign.”

“Take all the time you need, Rya,” I said, taking a sip of my tea. “The offer stands for seventy-two hours.”

As Marcus and I walked out of the restaurant toward our waiting car, Marcus looked over at me.

“She won't sign it,” Marcus noted.

“Of course she won't,” I replied, stepping into the back seat. “Her father’s creditors won't allow her to. Which means her next move will be to force Felix to make a choice between his mother and his wife.”

My phone chimed in my purse. It was an alert from my corporate security team monitoring social media activity.

A new video had just been uploaded to an anonymous gossip channel with fifty thousand local followers.