Once a Doormat Now Untouchable (Caleb and Sydney) novel Chapter 491

**When The Ocean Learned My Name and Whispered It Back to You by Aurelia Novel 491**

**Chapter 491**

“Wrong.” Tiffany’s voice was steady, yet there was an edge to it that hinted at her resolve. “They possess money. More than I could ever hope to have.”

The bald man’s expression was one of sheer disbelief, his mouth slightly agape as he processed her words. With a pointed gesture, she directed his attention toward the modest house behind her. “This may seem like a small place, but in this neighborhood, it holds a value significant enough to settle the debt.”

The house was an old courtyard home, a relic nestled in the bustling heart of Jouleston. Though the plot was small, in this district, it was a treasure trove of potential. They could either sell it outright or secure a mortgage from the bank. Either option would suffice to resolve their financial troubles.

Tiffany’s voice rang out, clear and firm, ensuring that not only the thugs but also Stanley and Mabel upstairs could hear her without any difficulty.

Before the bald man could muster a response, Stanley’s furious voice erupted from the window, slicing through the tension like a knife.

He leaned out, his finger quivering with barely contained rage. “You ungrateful brat! Sell this house? Where do you expect me, your mother, and your brother to live? You’re heartless! You’ve turned your back on your own family! We labored for years to put you through university, and this is how you repay us?”

Tiffany felt a familiar sense of resignation wash over her. Stanley’s outburst was not new; she had heard those very words before. But today, Raymond was present, witnessing the chaos unfold. As for the neighbors? She had long since ceased to care about their opinions.

Unfazed, Tiffany turned her attention back to the bald man, her expression unwavering.

“Well?” she inquired, her tone even and unyielding. “It sounds reasonable, doesn’t it?”

“Ms. Voss…” The man hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his face.

In truth, he had contemplated the idea of coercing the family into selling their home. However, the Vosses had insisted that their daughter was the one with the financial means, and persuading parents to part with their cherished home was never a simple task.

Tiffany was well aware of this. She calmly opened her bag, retrieving a business card, and presented it to him with a faint, practiced smile that belied her true feelings. “I’ve reviewed the contract. It’s legally binding. Should they refuse to cooperate with the sale, don’t hesitate to reach out to me at any time.”

With a swift motion, she tucked the card into the pocket of his polo shirt before he could react, then turned on her heel, ready to leave.

Raymond caught up to her, pausing momentarily to cast a glance back at the bald man.

“Don’t call her,” he said in a tone that was surprisingly mild. “Call me.”

“It’s where you and Dad plan to retire,” Tiffany completed her mother’s thought, her tone flat and devoid of emotion, echoing a line she had heard far too many times before.

“And even if I refuse to let you sell me off, refuse to hand over my savings and dowry for Tyler’s wedding house, this place could still serve as a temporary home for him, right?” Her voice hardened, a steely resolve replacing the weariness. “So what now? You have no money. You can’t sell the house. What about Tyler’s gambling, his drinking, his debts? What happens now?”

“Tiff…” Mabel’s voice trembled, a mixture of fear and desperation.

Her eyes searched her daughter’s face, pleading for understanding. “You really don’t have any money?”

“None,” Tiffany replied firmly, her voice resolute, cutting through the tension like a blade.

“Then…” Mabel’s gaze darted toward the man standing beside her daughter. Her fingers twisted together anxiously. “Then maybe your… boyfriend could lend us some?”

She forced a brittle smile toward Raymond, desperation seeping through her words. “Please? I swear it’ll be the last time. After this, we’ll never trouble you again. When you and Tiff get married, we won’t ask for a dowry or a house, nothing at all—”

Tiffany’s sharp laugh sliced through the air, a sound filled with disbelief. “What kind of daydream are you living in?”