You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 239

Patricia grew up surrounded by old money, raised in the kind of East Coast family that never really let go of tradition. Even though she hadn’t been back much in recent years, her family still quietly pulled the strings on all sorts of businesses across the country. The elders kept everything running the old-fashioned way, like some kind of exclusive old club that never changed its rules.

There were even rules about what you called people. When you met Oliver’s mom, you had to say “Miss” or “Madam.” But with Oliver, it was just “Oliver.” That little difference said everything about which side of the family you were from. The people from his mom’s side all called him Oliver, but the Padilla family—the real power in Golden Bay—called him “Third Master” or used his full title.

Patricia never bothered digging too deep into Oliver’s family history. Honestly, she could already tell it was complicated. Nothing about his background was simple.

And that made her nervous.

She couldn’t help but worry she’d end up like the leading lady in some soap opera—caught up in messy drama between a wealthy heir and the family that didn’t want her.

“Did your family even know you got married?” she asked one evening, her voice giving away just how anxious she was.

Oliver heard it, too. He took her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, and tried to make her smile. “What are you so worried about?”

She looked down. “I’m afraid your family will never accept me.”

Oliver laughed quietly. “You have my approval. Isn’t that enough? The rest of them don’t matter.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want you fighting with your family because of me.”

His expression turned serious, his eyes steady on hers. “If I ever have issues with my family, trust me, it started way before you came along. I’ll take care of it. You don’t need to stress about any of that, okay?”

Patricia’s voice was soft, almost gentle. “You look surprised to see me, Grandma.”

Her grandma flinched.

“You didn’t expect me to walk again, did you?” Patricia moved closer, her tone still sweet but with something sharp underneath. “I remember waking up in the hospital and seeing the way you looked at me. You seemed so disappointed.”

That gentle voice carried a chill, and Mrs. Martin felt it deep in her bones. She’d once been so proud of Patricia. Now, all she felt was fear. She knew exactly what it meant when someone like Patricia came back. It was never for gratitude. It was always for payback.

She had two sons. The older one was smart, well-educated, but always a little cold—a genius who kept his distance, never really close to her.