Chapter 2 You're Not Welcome Anymore

Selena's POV

"Sorry, but I don't agree." I refused bluntly.

Mother was stunned for a moment, then shot me an angry look: "What right do you have to disagree? You've been freeloading in our house for twenty years—you should be grateful we're even giving you a room!"

Father also tried to persuade me: "Taisia just came back. As her older sister, be more generous."

"Be more generous?"

I looked at each of them one by one and laughed coldly: "How generous should I be? Give her my room, give her my fiancé, give her this whole family?"

Mother rolled her eyes: "Everything you have now belonged to Taisia in the first place, and you still have complaints?"

Myrdal tugged at my arm, trying to stop me: "Selena, stop being difficult. Listen to your parents."

This scumbag who was hugging and holding Taisia right in front of me was now playing the good guy and trying to persuade me?

I smiled slightly, slowly turned to look at him, and said softly: "Get lost."

With that, I ignored everyone's objections and headed straight upstairs.

When I reached my room door, I saw Taisia sitting on my sofa, arrogantly directing the servants to move my things out.

Taisia looked up, saw me, and said casually: "Selena, your room has good sunlight. You don't mind if I stay here, do you?"

"I do mind. I'm disgusted when cockroaches get into my room."

Taisia's face turned red. She glared at me and said: "It doesn't matter if you mind, because this isn't your room anymore—it's mine. And you can go back to your biological parents and live in their leaky shack in the countryside. Oh, and I'll gladly take your fiancé too."

"A scumbag and a bitch—truly a perfect match." I looked at her coldly.

"You—" Taisia pointed at me, but before she could finish, she glanced behind me, suddenly crouched down, fell to the floor, and cried out: "Selena, if you don't want me to have this room, fine, but why did you hit me?"

I frowned slightly, still processing what happened when I heard Mother's angry voice behind me: "Selena! Have you lost your mind?!"

I turned around to see my parents and Myrdal had followed upstairs. They brushed past me and gathered around Taisia, comforting her with concern.

Myrdal even accused me without asking what happened: "Selena, how did you become so vicious? You can't even tolerate your own sister?"

Sister?

How ridiculous. Since when did I have such a bitch for a sister?

Taisia sobbed uncontrollably: "Dad, Mom, if sister really doesn't like me, I think I should just leave..."

Mother hugged her lovingly: "Don't talk nonsense. If anyone's leaving, it's her!"

Annoyed by her crying, I simply walked up to her and slapped her across the face.

"See that? That's what hitting looks like."

"Selena!" Father roared, "Get out of here right now! The Kateson family doesn't have a vicious daughter like you!"

"Dad, don't be like this..." Taisia grabbed Father's arm with fake concern, tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't send her back to her real family. She's too delicate for that rural hellhole."

"Look how thoughtful Taisia is!" Mother glared at me hatefully. "Now look at you! You're like a shrew! Pack your things and get lost right now! The Kateson family doesn't welcome you anymore!"

Myrdal stood there, his lips moving slightly, but he said nothing.

I had expected this outcome all along. Fine by me—I'd had enough of this fake, heartless family anyway.

"You don't need to kick me out. I'll leave on my own." I turned toward the walk-in closet and started packing.

In fact, ever since I noticed my parents growing colder toward me, I'd been ready to leave at any moment.

I just didn't expect it to happen this way.

As I dragged my suitcase out of the room and headed for the stairs, the butler rushed up with a strange expression. "Sir, Madam, there's someone outside... someone here to pick up Miss Selena."

"Who?" Father frowned.

"A man in work clothes, and he's driving a tractor."

Taisia dramatically covered her mouth, her eyes full of glee. "That must be Uncle Jonathan. He drives a tractor in the countryside."

The disgust on Mother's face became even more obvious. "Your family is here to take you back. Why aren't you leaving already?"

I took a deep breath and dragged my suitcase down the stairs.

Whoever was outside, whatever vehicle they drove, at least they came to get me.

These people just couldn't wait to throw me out.

Outside the villa, a red old tractor was indeed parked on the luxurious driveway, completely out of place with the surroundings.

Others might not notice, but I recognized it immediately—that tractor was one of twenty limited edition models released by a sports car brand a few years ago.

A middle-aged man in work pants and a straw hat leaned against the tractor. Seeing me come out, he took off his hat, revealing a bronze-tanned face.

"Selena?" he asked tentatively.

I nodded. "You are?"

"I'm your uncle, Jonathan Hart." He grinned, showing white teeth. "Your dad sent me to take you home."

"Hart?" Mother followed me out. Hearing the surname, she showed a contemptuous look. "Never heard of that surname. Definitely country folk."

Taisia held Myrdal's arm with a gloating expression.

Jonathan saw Taisia and greeted her with a smile. "Taisia, haven't seen you in just a few days, and you've gotten much prettier."

Taisia rolled her eyes at him. "I'm not part of the Hart family anymore. Don't try to get friendly with me."

Jonathan ignored her mockery and took out three elegantly wrapped gift boxes from the tractor's storage compartment, handing them to my adoptive parents. "Thank you for taking care of Selena all these years. This is a small token of our appreciation."

Mother took the boxes and opened them.

Inside were a property deed for an apartment in the most luxurious area of the city center, a trust fund share document with a shockingly high amount, and keys to a limited edition sports car.

After looking at them, Mother suddenly burst out laughing. "Do you think I'm an idiot? Making some fake documents and fake keys to save face? I've seen this trick plenty of times!"

Taisia laughed even harder. "Jonathan, I lived at the Hart house for so long. How come I never knew about any apartment in the city center or sports car?"

I glanced at those gifts and frowned.

I'd studied finance and law—those documents looked very authentic. The seals, watermarks, and signature formats had no flaws whatsoever.

Seeing my adoptive parents' family's disdainful expressions, I took back the gift boxes and said to Jonathan, "Since they don't want them, forget it. Uncle Jonathan, let's go home."

After taking just two steps, Myrdal caught up with me and said quietly, "Selena, just bear with staying in the countryside for a few days. Once I settle things here, I'll come get you."

"No need." I rejected him directly. "We've already broken up. Please don't disturb my life."

With that, I opened the tractor door and got in.

Through the rearview mirror, I saw Myrdal standing there in a daze, like he'd lost his soul.

But I didn't care anymore. In fact, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

Jonathan patted the tractor's steering wheel and grinned. "Let me and my three-year-old buddy here take you home, how about that?"

I examined this globally limited edition tractor, looked at Jonathan's high-end custom work clothes, thought about those gift boxes, and raised an eyebrow. "Uncle Jonathan, can you tell me the truth? Is our family actually pretty wealthy?"

Those things definitely weren't something an ordinary family could own. Good thing my adoptive parents didn't know their value, or they would've gotten a huge bargain for nothing.

Uncle Jonathan scratched his head and said naturally, "Maybe a little bit."

I fell silent.

I'd never heard of a family with such financial power. Could it be that my parents were involved in illegal business?

The tractor drove for over two hours and finally stopped in front of a country courtyard.

The yard was large, filled with various plants, with a simple but comfortable two-story house in the center.

As soon as I got out, I heard arguing from inside the yard.

"I told you we should water it more!" a female voice said frantically.

"You watered it too much! The roots are going to rot!" a male voice retorted.

Uncle Jonathan and I walked into the yard and saw a middle-aged couple arguing over a dying-looking lemon tree sapling.

They wore simple cotton clothes. The woman was holding a watering can while the man tried to grab it from her.

"Big brother, Selena's back!" Uncle Jonathan called out.

The couple turned around simultaneously. The moment they saw me, both their eyes lit up.

The woman dropped the watering can and rushed over. Her eyes instantly reddened. "Selena? Is it really you?"

The man also walked over, his voice choking up. "She looks just like your grandmother when she was young."

Looking at them, I suddenly didn't know how to react.

"That tree..." I pointed at the lemon sapling. "It's not a watering problem. Look at its leaves—the edges are yellowing. That's a sign of iron deficiency. Plus the soil is severely compacted and needs loosening."

I naturally walked over, squatted by the sapling, tested the soil moisture with my hand, then picked up a small rake from the tool rack and started loosening the soil.

"Uncle Jonathan, get me some mature fertilizer and some ferrous sulfate."

My parents looked at each other in confusion, while Uncle Jonathan smiled and went to prepare the items.