Yvonne and Xander headed off together to the Quinn estate for breakfast.

Before she left, Yvonne casually scooped up all of Mona's account ledgers from the coffee table and took them with her.

She left behind a household of people who'd hoped she'd finally get a taste of how hard it was to run this place. The plan had been to let her struggle with the responsibilities. Yet, just like that, she'd slipped away without a care.

How could she just walk out? Was this her idea of managing the house? Outrageous.

Grinding her teeth, Mona snapped, "Tristan, you call this responsibility?"

Was this how the lady of the manor treats her family?, as the woman of the house? Everyone here was hungry-she hadn't arranged anything, just left them to fend for themselves and gone off to the Quinns for breakfast?

Mona was close to exploding. She'd gotten up in the middle of the night, dragged all the servants from bed, and issued a flurry of instructions. But now, it was like Yvonne wouldn't even take the bait, just letting it all go.

Tristan's face was deathly pale. "Well, someone better cook us something."

Everyone was starving—the whole morning had gone by.

Mona snorted, "Cook with what? The kitchen's a wreck! Xander smashed it to pieces!" Ugh—

Why did Yvonne always have to stir up trouble? Last night, when she'd taken over, her promises had sounded so good-how she'd manage everything from now on.

So this was her grand plan? She actually took all the ledgers with her!

She couldn't even handle the house, yet she wanted to keep the books? Infuriating!

And when Mona thought about her daughter over in Novaderma, in desperate need of money, the regret gnawed at her. Why hadn't she skimmed more cash for herself when she had the chance? But back then, who would have guessed that the proud Quinn family's daughter would pull something like this? The Schultz family barely counted for anything next to the Quinns now.

"So what are we supposed to do now?" Yale complained, frustration edging his voice. "She didn't even say when we're supposed to get our monthly allowance!"

This morning, every credit card he tried to use had been locked-completely dead. Credit was his lifeline, even the black card his dad once gave him was now canceled.

Just thinking about it made his blood boil.

"Exactly-Tristan, when is she planning to send the monthly funds?" Mona echoed.

Her cards were locked too. Anything

under the Schultz family's name was frozen. Since marrying in, she'd barely used her own accounts, and she certainly didn't dare now.

now

Yvonne only gave them a thousand dollars a month; anything extra, there was no way to cover the difference.

Tristan's expression darkened. "Don't ask me. Go ask her! Why are you bothering me with this?"

He hadn't eaten since morning and his patience was paper-thin. Anything related to Yvonne was the last thing he wanted to discuss.

The entire Schultz house lapsed into heavy, frosty silence.

Meanwhile, at the Quinn estate, Yvonne had already started digging into breakfast. "Mmm. There's nothing like home cooking," she said, taking hearty bites.

"You haven't eaten since you went over to the Schultzes last night," Xander noted.

"I barely got anything there. If I don't get to eat, neither do they." She shot him a crooked grin. Wasn't that just what Mona deserved trying to make her organize breakfast at the crack of dawn.

What did they think Yvonne was?

Sure, she'd take their money. But as for handling their problems? That depended on her mood and on the person As far as the Schultzes went, she wouldn't lift a finger for them.

"Where's Star?" Yvonne asked, glancing at the butler as she continued eating.

"She's on the phone. Looks like it's from Yoreland. She seems—well, a bit upset."

"A call from Yoreland?" Yvonne paused. Angry, even? Then it had to be about Tegan. "Isn't Skye over there keeping an eye on Tegan? What's got her so upset?"

Thinking of Skye, Yvonne couldn't

help but wonder-Finley was in

Yoreland too, wasn't he? Had he let something slip? If Skye, that

madwoman, ever found outh Ind

thoroughly she'd been fooled) she'd definitely hunt Yvonne down for revenge-and that wouldn't be pretty.

"I'm not sure about the details, ma'am,” the butler added softly. "I wouldn't dare listen in."

The underlying message was clear: if Yvonne wanted to know, she'd have to ask Stella herself. And if something had Stella this riled up, it could only mean trouble with Tegan.