The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 273

Ivy and Jamison hadn’t even crossed any real lines together yet, but the way Ivy spoke, you’d think she was a seasoned pro at this sort of thing–as if they’d been wrapped up in passion for ages.

Carla, at her age, raised as a picture–perfect debutante, had always carried herself with impeccable grace. Hearing Ivy’s words, she flushed with indignation and snapped, “Ivy, do you hear yourself? That’s absolutely shameless!”

Ivy just shrugged, unbothered. “What’s so shameless about it? Isn’t that what men and women get together for? And if you’re so concerned about propriety, how exactly do you think Micah came into this world?”

As she said it, Ivy recalled a popular saying online–how the older generation acted all buttoned–up and traditional, yet somehow managed to quietly populate a whole

country.

It fit Carla perfectly.

Carla had come here feeling confident she held all the cards, but now her dignity was in shreds. She shot to her feet, so angry she could barely get the words out.

“Ivy, you–you may have fallen from grace, but you were once Neo Haven’s most sought–after socialite. Now you sound cruder than a peasant! Then again, after three years in the backwoods, I suppose you picked up all sorts of bad habits. I almost pity what you’ve been through, but honestly, your attitude is infuriating!”

Ivy just rolled her eyes, totally unfazed.

“If you don’t like the way I talk, then don’t come see me. You’re the one choosing to get upset—don’t blame me for it. That’s rich.”

Carla remained standing, looking down at Ivy with icy superiority. Since any chance of a civil conversation was shot, she decided to play her trump card.

“Ivy, do you know who Jamison’s first love was?”

Ivy’s gaze snapped up, sharp and attentive.

“It was his sister–in–law–Thad’s wife. Back then, it was actually Jamison who fell for Miss Foster first, but there was too much of an age gap. He was still in school, and our families had always intended for the eldest son and daughter to marry–so Thad and Miss Foster were set. Jamison was stubborn about it and stormed off abroad for years.”

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Ivy fell silent, recalling Jamison mentioning something like this before, but he’d always been cagey about the details.

So it was a forbidden love.

She remembered catching a glimpse of Jamison’s sister–in–law at the hospital–not even a full look, just her silhouette. But even from behind, she exuded beauty and poise. Despite having three children, she was still elegant, still striking–almost girlish.

Suddenly, Ivy felt a pang of insecurity. In looks and talent, she knew she could hold her own against anyone. But when it came to background, to family status, she was nowhere close.

Carla saw her go quiet and finally felt triumphant. She pressed on, “All these years, Jamison has been at odds with the family over this. If he insists on being with you, I’d wager it’s just to spite us all, to make a point. You think you’ve found love, but you’re nothing more than a pawn in his little rebellion.”

Ivy snapped out of her thoughts, then smiled. “Love or pawn, what does it matter? Jamison spends money on me–and that’s what actually counts. When a woman gets married, it’s either for love, for money, or for the comfort someone brings you. So far, your brother has ticked all three boxes. If the woman he truly loves isn’t me, so what? I’ve still come out ahead.”

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