Pampered By My Three Brothers: The Return Of The Neglected Heiress - Chapter 1634

Chapter 1634: I do have a suggestion.
Kiara and Cassandra wouldn’t call it bonding—but perhaps it still fell into the same category: trauma bonding. Although their friendship dated back to their youth, they understood each other more deeply now, having experienced similar struggles with their families.

Kiara had grown up under the crushing weight of expectations—not just from her parents but from her entire family. Even as a child, she was taught to mature quickly and never cause trouble. And even when she followed every rule, brought home hundreds of medals, or won countless contests, it was never enough.

It was the same for Cassandra. Though unlike her friend, she’d had a little more freedom—just not total control over her life.

Because of that, the two of them had basically grown up without a family.

Kiara had long since severed ties with her parents, and her last encounter with them had made it painfully clear—she was dead to them. As for Cassandra, she might have tried to reach out, but Grace had forbidden her from contacting her family.

Grace hadn’t stayed long earlier, nor had she left Cassandra with a lengthy set of instructions. But she had made one thing very clear: if Cassandra didn’t follow her terms, she’d drop the case.

In other words, they had no place to go—no safe refuge.

“Uh…” Kiara cleared her throat, casting a glance at Cassandra. “Maybe… I can find us a room at a hotel.”

Cassandra looked at her friend bitterly.

“Ki…” She reached out and held Kiara’s hand, her eyes shimmering with regret. “I’m… sorry. I know money is tight.”

Kiara shook her head. “It’s for our safety. What good is my savings if I end up dead, right?”

Cassandra wanted to scold her friend for saying something so morbid—but at this point, there was no sugarcoating their situation. It felt like they were hanging by a thread, and Cassandra couldn’t help but blame herself for dragging Kiara into this.

If it weren’t for her, Kiara wouldn’t be caught up in this mess.

“Cassy, it’s not your fault,” Kiara forced a thin smile—one as fragile as her words. “I don’t blame you. And if this happened again… I’d still make the same choice.”

Those words should have reassured Cassandra, but instead, they only added more weight to the guilt crushing her chest. Her friend might be doing this out of the goodness of her heart, but that was exactly why the burden felt heavier.

Hugo sighed, his eyes darting between the two. “Hey. Food provider.”

“Huh?” both women responded, turning to him.

Kiara pointed at herself. “Food… what?”

“Do you even have the money? Or are you really broke?” he asked with a hint of disbelief. “How are you a businesswoman and this poor?”

“Have you ever run a business before?” Kiara frowned, but in a way, she appreciated the sudden change of topic. She was painfully aware of the heaviness in Cassandra’s heart. “Hugo, listen to me. Just because I have a business doesn’t mean I’m rich. Most of my profits go back into the company for reinvestment. That’s how you grow a business. Didn’t your First Brother or Penny ever tell you that?”

“My First Brother was rich even before he took over our family business. And he’s richer now running the Pierson Corporation,” Hugo replied matter-of-factly, making both women wonder if he was breaking the tension on purpose—or if he really had no idea about their emotional turmoil.

“And Penny…” Hugo tilted his head back, rubbing his chin. “She’s a young millionaire. I’m sure of that—considering how many bets she’s won before she started her company. Never heard her mention reinvestment.”

Kiara and Cassandra exchanged weary looks. Why were they even surprised? Hugo’s chosen career path wasn’t exactly building wealth. His life goal seemed to be surviving—one day at a time.

“Kiara, how do you talk to him?” Cassandra leaned in and whispered.

Kiara could only shake her head and shrug weakly. She honestly had no idea. But then a subtle smile crept onto her face as she turned back to her friend.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, nodding toward Hugo, “but this is how I survived while you were inside.”

Hugo’s clueless interruption tugged some of the weight off Cassandra’s chest. She managed a small smile and nodded back at Kiara.

Meanwhile, Hugo, entirely unaware of the emotional lifeline he’d just offered, raised a brow. “Hey, I feel like you’re mentally badmouthing me.”

“It’s nothing, Hugo,” Kiara replied, her expression a little resigned. “But I think we should just stay at a hotel. At least if we’re together, hotels are safer, right?”

“Are they, really?” Hugo tilted his head, making both women furrow their brows.

“They’re… not?” Cassandra asked cautiously. “There are people around, and I don’t think hotel doors can be kicked in easily.”

“True. But assuming the person following her is connected to your case, do you really think they’re incapable of accessing your room?” he countered, his tone darkening. “If they can derail a case, pin the blame on an innocent person, and paint you as the head of some supposed crime ring… don’t you think they can also get a copy—or worse, a master key—to your room?”

He paused, raising his brows. “And if you two think sticking together increases your chances of survival… have you considered how much easier it would be to overpower you both if you’re cornered by three or more people?”

He turned to Kiara. “I don’t think even a black belt could take down that many trained men at once,” he added. “I’m not belittling your skills—I’m just stating a fact you have to accept.”

Kiara held Hugo’s gaze, and as bitter as it was, she swallowed the painful truth. Even if she trusted her skills, she knew her limits. In a close-quarters fight against overwhelming numbers, she’d lose.

People played dirty. And with Cassandra beside her, she could already imagine the worst-case scenario.

“If staying in a hotel isn’t safe either, do you have any better suggestions?” she asked flatly. “Because honestly, that’s the only option we’ve got.”

Hugo rocked his head from side to side, as if weighing his words. “I do have a suggestion,” he admitted, though he winced even as he said it. “But it involves… begging. And squeezing out a few tears.”