I Was Just A Passerby Carrying His Twin Heirs Chapter 11

I Was Just A Passerby Carrying His Twin Heirs Chapter 11

He asked point-blank.

I gave a point-blank answer.

“That’s your money. What does it have to do with me?”

He stared at me, his eyes holding something deeply complex. Surprise, maybe. Or something else entirely.

The bullet chat went nuts.

[OMG HE’S CATCHING FEELS! This man spent his whole life dealing with gold diggers, and suddenly a girl asks for zero dollars?! HIS DNA IS VIBRATING!]

[Queen behavior! But girl, are you serious?! It’s billions! At least take a bite!]

[Y’all don’t get it. The less she wants, the more Grant wants to give. Reverse psychology at its finest!]

I wasn’t playing mind games.

I genuinely didn’t want it.

I was just a regular girl living a regular life.

Billions of dollars belonged in a completely different reality. I didn’t even care to dream about it.

Besides, taking money like that meant endless drama and strings attached.

Too exhausting.

I’d rather take my quick, clean resolution.

Though now it wasn’t just $2,800-it had upgraded into a full “Prenatal Support Package.”

Technically, I came out ahead.

I picked up my fork again and kept eating.

The Wagyu was seriously incredible.

Grant watched me for a moment before finally picking up his own silverware.

We ate in silence.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though.

By the end of the meal, I let out a soft burp.

Then my face went instantly hot.

Not out of modesty-it just slipped out.

Grant put his fork down and turned his head slightly. His shoulders shook in a tiny, almost imperceptible

tremor.

He was laughing.

It lasted maybe half a second, but I caught it.

Fine. Let him laugh.

I’d already marched into his office to demand $2,800. A burp was nothing.

I drank some water to compose myself.

“I’m full. Just have Logan White reach out about the contract.”

He gave a low hum.

I stood up and walked toward the door. Halfway out, I turned back.

“Mr. Vance.”

“Yeah?”

“This dinner doesn’t count against my terms. You offered.”

The curve of his lips grew a little more noticeable.

“My treat.”

“Cool. Thanks. See ya.”

I walked out.

Outside, the early autumn night breeze carried a crisp chill.

I touched my stomach.

Flat. Nothing showed.

But there were two tiny things inside. Two allegedly priceless human beings.

“You two better pull your weight,” I whispered to my belly. “Your mom’s broke. You’re on your own from here.”

A final line of text floated past.

[She has no idea that the two eggs in her belly just triggered a Category 5 hurricane inside the Vance family. His inheritance-obsessed cousin is going to lose his damn mind tomorrow.]

I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.

I called an Uber home.

When I reached my building, I shot a text to Logan White.

The Uber ride was $17.50. Can I expense this?

He replied three seconds later.

…Yes.

That’s how life should be lived. Every penny counts.

The contract signing went smoothly.

Grant brought in a senior partner from a top law firm. The agreement was airtight.

I read every single line. Don’t underestimate me-I was a pre-law student before dropping out to pay bills.

Everything looked solid.

Monthly living allowance, fully covered medical bills, and a $400,000 lump-sum settlement after birth.

Four hundred grand.

Honestly, the number made me freeze.

I expected maybe a hundred or two hundred thousand max.

The lawyer shrugged. “Mr. Vance set the amount.”

I hesitated for two seconds.

I picked up the pen, crossed out $400,000, and wrote $180,000.

The lawyer blinked at me.

He pulled out his phone and called Logan White.

Logan called Grant.

Five minutes later, Logan called back with one sentence.

“Mr. Vance says keep the original number.”

I stared at the paper.

I crossed it out again and wrote $250,000.

The lawyer didn’t bother calling. He looked at me directly.

“Miss Miller, Mr. Vance’s exact words were: ‘If she changes the number again, bump it to $800,000.”