Chapter 131 How did your mother die

Stacy stood still, her hand still caught in Mr. Qin's grip, a subtle but firm tether that kept her anchored beside him. 

The sharp, quick click of heels against marble was fading, but the heavy atmosphere left in the wake of Mr. Qin's stepmother lingered like a storm that hadn't quite passed. 

Stacy had watched the woman leave, her back rigid with discomfort, a mask of dignity slipping as she disappeared from view. 

Awkwardness. Embarrassment. Anger. These emotions were palpable, though unspoken. Stacy could feel them all swirling in the air, charging the space between her and Mr. Qin. 

But what struck her most was the distinct sense of calculation that seemed to cling to the woman's every step—a deep sense of dissatisfaction that hinted at motives far more complicated than hurt feelings.