Only Briana, though initially bewildered, remained relatively calm amidst the chaos. She thought she had to do something to solidify her position. She approached Caleb's mother and gently stroked her back. Mrs. Helen, please don't worry so much.

It will harm you. Caleb and his father will surely find a solution. They say there's always a way out. Caleb's mother, desperate, clung to Briana's kind words like a drowning person to a straw.

Briana, my dear, it's good that you're here. You're completely different from that Savannah. That woman, the devil incarnate. Briana rejoiced inwardly but maintained a concerned expression.

Mrs. Helen, now is not the time to talk about that. We must remain calm. Caleb and his father are very busy and haven't even eaten properly. I'll go to the kitchen and prepare something.

You have to eat to have strength. These words sank deep into Caleb's mother's heart. She looked at Briana with growing approval. You are so good.

You are a hundred times better than that Savannah. She was never so caring. Briana smiled modestly and went to the kitchen. Passing by Caleb, she gave him a concerned look and whispered, "Caleb, don't overwork yourself.

I'll prepare you some homemade stew." Caleb, dejected, nodded, feeling a slight relief from her kind comfort. In the kitchen, Briana familiarly opened the refrigerator. Seeing that it was much fuller than in her small rented apartment, she felt even more satisfaction. She took out potatoes and meat and began to cook the stew.

As she cooked, she looked around the kitchen. It was much more spacious and brighter than her own. All the appliances were top of the line. She did the math in her head.

If the Prescott family overcomes this crisis, and they surely will. After all, they had good times. I must convince Caleb to divorce that bitter Savannah. And then I will enter this house through the front door.

Oh yes, I'll ask Caleb to buy me a car. That BMW I saw recently wasn't bad. And the bags and the clothes. I'll throw out all the tasteless things Savannah left and fill the closets with luxury brands.

The mere thought of it was a pleasure. She saw herself as the mistress of the Prescott house, elegantly dressed, driving a good car, and frequenting exclusive places. She thought the Prescott's crisis was just a small business setback or that they had unluckily crossed someone unimportant. It could surely be settled with money.

What could that simpleton Savannah do? Soon the stew was ready. She brought it to the table, pretending to be the perfect wife. Mr. Russell, Mrs. Helen, Caleb, eat something first.

Russell and Caleb ate almost nothing. But Caleb's mother couldn't stop praising the stew. How deliciously you cook, Briana. Better than in many restaurants.

Briana smiled modestly, but thought to herself, "When I become the lady of this house, I don't intend to cook." "Of course, I'll hire a housekeeper." After eating, Caleb and his father returned to the study to continue their calls. Briana offered to wash the dishes and then sat down to watch TV in the living room with Caleb's mother.

She deliberately lowered the volume and leaned closer to her future mother-in-law to whisper, "Mrs. Helen, I'm so sorry to see Caleb and his father so dejected. If I could help in any way.

I know a few people. I could try talking to them tomorrow." Caleb's mother, feeling helpless, grabbed her hand. Briana, really? If you could help our family, you would be our salvation.

I'll tell Caleb to treat you like a queen. That was exactly what Briana wanted to hear. She rejoiced inwardly but feigned modesty. Please don't worry, Mrs. Helen.

I'll do everything in my power for Caleb and for this family. I'll do anything. She considered herself very clever. At a difficult time for the Prescott family, she would show her worth and her prudence, becoming someone incomparably better than the rejected Savannah.

She believed that as soon as the crisis passed, she Briana would become the official Prescott daughter-in-law and live a life of luxury forever. She even took out her phone and secretly took a picture of the living room, carefully avoiding the sad faces of Caleb and his father and focusing only on the luxurious chandelier and a fragment of the large sofa. She posted it on Instagram with the text, "A warm evening, grateful for simple happiness." She didn't know that all her actions and calculations were nothing but a farce in my eyes. And she certainly didn't know that the Prescott crisis was not a small problem, but the beginning of the end, that the life of a millionaire's wife she dreamed of was nothing but a nightmare from which she would soon wake.

And I, in the cozy villa, sipping the comforting broth the housekeeper had prepared, was calmly reading the message Marcus had just sent me. Miss Savannah, the Sterling group has completely halted work. The loan payment demands from the banks have already been delivered to the Prescott company. The notice of the tax audit will be officially sent tomorrow.

Furthermore, Briana, 25, unemployed, lives in a rented apartment, loves luxury brands. She has numerous loans with payday loan companies. After reading the information about Briana, especially about the loans, I smiled coldly and instructed Marcus to use our contacts to expedite the legal proceedings regarding her debts. Briana, you like to dream, don't you?

I'll show you what it means to fall from a sweet dream. That night, Caleb and his father, Russell, spent a sleepless night in the study making calls. The ashtray filled with cigarette butts. The entrepreneurs and politicians who had previously called them brothers and friends didn't answer their phones, or if they did, they apologized, saying that times were tough.

No one offered help. Russell almost smashed the phone against the wall. The next morning, Caleb drove to the company with sunken eyes. He still cherished a small hope.

He thought that what had happened last night might have been a nightmare. That upon arriving at the office, everything would return to normal. But as soon as he reached the company building, his hope was shattered. The main entrance was blocked by several cars.

They were the suppliers cars. He quickly turned around to enter through the back door, but it was also blocked. Two suppliers who had previously flattered him stood there like guards. As soon as he got out of his car, they rushed at him.

Mr. Prescott, you're finally here." One said, grabbing his arm tightly. We've been working together for years. How could you do this to us? My $1.5 million.

I need that money today to pay my employees. And my million, shouted the other. If you don't pay us today, we're not moving from here. Caleb, shaken, tried to keep his cool.

Gentlemen, calm down. Let's go inside and talk. We don't intend to keep your money. He barely managed to free himself from them and ran into the company almost fleeing.