Pampered By My Three Brothers: The Return Of The Neglected Heiress - Chapter 1592

Chapter 1592: You shouldn’t have come
Meanwhile…

Patricia was still frowning in the reception area outside Penny’s office. It hadn’t occurred to her until now that all those delivery packages were coming from the same sender.

When she received her first package, she had rushed home to thank her father. He seemed pleased by her sweetness and told her she “deserved it.”

But she realized something was off when Mr. Miller mentioned the perfume he bought for her—not the bag she had received.

Still, Patricia didn’t dwell on it too much.

She simply assumed there had been a mix-up.

Who would’ve thought how wrong she was?

Still frowning deeply, Patricia turned to the side, her eyes instantly landing on Mark in his usual spot.

“Hey,” she called. “Don’t you also get delivery packages nowadays?”

Mark slowly lifted his gaze to her and replied coldly, “No.”

“At least there are two of us,” she muttered. “Should I call Father and ask for an explanation?”

Patricia seriously considered it—until her gut twisted the more she thought about it. Her shoulders tensed, her breath slowed, and her heart began pounding against her chest as beads of cold sweat formed on her back and forehead.

Mark, watching her from the corner of his eye, slowly turned to her. The first thing he noticed was her suddenly pale complexion.

“Are you alright?” he asked, seeing her turn to him and force a smile.

“Of—of course,” she stammered. “If Penny comes, tell her I just went to the restroom.”

With that, Patricia pushed herself up and hurriedly left.

Mark tilted his head, watching her scurry away like she was hiding something.

“What’s wrong with her?” he muttered. “She looked perfectly fine just a second ago…”

—

Restroom

Patricia leaned on the sink, both hands gripping the edge. Her breathing was heavy and uneven, her heart still racing. When she finally calmed herself, she slowly looked up to face her reflection.

Why did I even consider doing that?

Her lips pressed into a thin line, a sigh escaping her as a familiar spike of fear welled up in her chest. The thought of contacting the sender of the packages reminded her of that time she picked up a card from her brother’s dirty laundry—

That same card that almost got her killed.

Even now, Patricia fought to free herself from those memories, but they lingered, haunting her at the worst moments. Right now, she could barely breathe. Her stomach churned.

I hate it.

Her eyes shone with bitterness. She shut them tight, shaking her head. Reaching for the faucet, water rushed into her hand as the sensor activated. Thanks to her recent disinterest in heavy makeup, she didn’t mind washing her face.

Water dripped from her chin as she stared into the mirror again.

“I still need to be careful,” she whispered, slapping her cheeks lightly to snap herself out of it.

She nodded to herself, deciding to forget the idea of reaching out to this “Father.” If she didn’t receive gifts, then fine—at least she didn’t have to worry like the others. She had realized that a bit late, but thankfully not too late.

Otherwise, she might’ve put herself in another situation she couldn’t escape from. And next time? She might not survive.

Patricia stayed in the restroom until her complexion returned to normal. After drying her face, she walked back out as if nothing had happened.

Mark was watching her.

“What?” she asked as she sat down, tilting her head slightly.

Mark didn’t reply immediately. He studied her face, then looked away, which only made her frown and click her tongue in irritation.

She glanced at the CEO’s office.

“By the way, is Penny inside?” she asked.

“No,” he answered without looking at her.

“Oh.” She leaned back on the desk, still eyeing him. “By the way, Mark, do you know anything about that photo in her office?”

“A photo?”

Patricia nodded. “Yesterday, I saw a wallet-sized picture of someone. Penny told me it was supposed to be her mother. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or sarcastic.”

“Patricia Miller.” Mark gave her a chilling glare. “If it’s about food orders for Miss Penny or office-related tasks, I don’t mind. But if it’s not, don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

He paused, his gaze turning even colder. “Don’t forget—Miss Penny might let you play solitaire at work, but she still holds a position that demands respect.”

Patricia frowned and sighed sharply. “Fine, geez. Why are you being like this? It’s not like I snooped around. I was just curious. No need to be harsh.”

“It’s for your sake,” he said flatly. “Trust me.”

She opened her mouth but closed it again. A heavy sigh escaped her, but she let the subject drop.

Even so, her curiosity lingered. If anything, it burned even more.

Because lately, she had been watching the new helper in the Miller household—and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the woman looked just like the person in the photo. Just older.

All I need is to see that photo again, up close, she thought. And maybe find out why Penny was holding it in the first place.

Who knows? Maybe she could even help.

—

[Anteca Correctional Facility]

Cassandra sat frozen on the chair in a room with her lawyer and father. The life had dimmed from her eyes, and her pale, trembling lips parted.

“The appeal… was rejected?” she asked. Her voice was void of life, and the two men watching her frowned with regret.

But instead of breaking down in tears, Cassandra let out a hollow, mocking laugh. Yet even as she laughed, tears streamed down her face.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she said bitterly, raising teary eyes full of scorn. “If all you came to bring was proof of your incompetence.”

SLAM!

She slammed both hands on the table, grinding her teeth. “I’m innocent! And you can’t even get me bail. How the hell are you going to prove my innocence once the trial starts?!”