That night, Camila Davis led Lillian back to their room not long before Jordan Smith took Daniel home.
On the way, Daniel kept up his little act. “Uncle Jordan, I think Lillian’s painting was really expensive. Maybe Mom should buy her a new one, or maybe pay her back? That way, Camila won’t be mad at me anymore…”
Jordan replied gently, “No need, kiddo. It’s just a painting. If it’s broken, it’s broken. It wasn’t worth much anyway—don’t worry about it.”
He looked completely unfazed, thinking Camila was blowing things out of proportion.
He figured, if even a therapist couldn’t fix things, what good could a painting do?
Later that evening, after dropping Daniel off, Sandra Taylor greeted Jordan at her door with gratitude and a warm smile. “Jordan, thank you so much for watching Daniel tonight. I really couldn’t have managed everything without you.”
“Of course, Sandra. It’s no trouble at all,” Jordan replied, just as kindly.
He still had some work to finish, so he didn’t stay long. As he was leaving, Sandra called after him, “Don’t forget about the cocktail party tomorrow night!”
Jordan nodded, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”
After he left, Sandra ushered Daniel inside. As soon as the door closed, Daniel beamed at his mom, eager to share his news. “Mom, guess what? When I was at Dad Jordan’s, that mean lady got in another fight with him because I messed up that silly girl’s painting on purpose! She was so mad she even said she wanted a divorce!”
“Really?” Sandra’s eyes lit up with anticipation.
Daniel nodded enthusiastically, describing the scene with all the drama he could muster.
Sandra looked both delighted and proud. “You did so well!”
Daniel’s chest puffed up with pride. “Of course, I haven’t forgotten my mission!”
Sandra ruffled his hair affectionately, her excitement barely hidden.
She hadn’t expected Camila Davis to be so stupid as to bring up divorce herself. If she didn’t, at least she could still cling to the title of “Mrs. Smith.” But if she did—well, she’d have nothing left.
That’s exactly what Sandra wanted. The only thing she couldn’t figure out was why Jordan didn’t agree to it—maybe things just hadn’t reached a boiling point yet.
Still, Sandra wasn’t in a hurry. Whenever she called, Jordan came running. Sooner or later, he’d be hers.
Camila Davis, what do you have to fight me with?
Just wait—I’ll ruin you!
She had plenty of fancy dresses—most custom-made at her grandmother’s request—but she’d hardly ever worn any of them out. Jordan had never taken her to any big events; the most she’d done was show her face at a few family functions.
Feeling unsure, she called her best friend for help.
Sarah Brown was a pro at these things and came over right away, eager to play stylist.
In the end, they picked a pale gold, vintage-inspired gown—unique enough to stand out, but not too flashy, and perfect for showing off Camila’s gorgeous figure.
Sarah even styled her hair in an elegant updo, fixing it with a delicate pearl pin, and finished the look with subtle makeup and carefully chosen jewelry.
Suddenly, Camila stood before the mirror: the very picture of timeless, classic beauty.
Her eyes sparkled with a new kind of confidence, and there was a subtle playfulness to her smile.
Sarah was stunned on the spot.
Her friend looked absolutely breathtaking—almost unreal!

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