Emily quickly devised a plan in her mind:

"That's right, Raegan. Mom said she was bored and remembered that she knew how to sew. We originally wanted to make suits or shirts, but we were afraid they wouldn't look good, so we made simple pajamas instead. I even helped a bit. By the way, we also made a set for you, but since today is uncle's birthday, we only brought his. I'll bring yours another day, okay?"

Raegan scoffed internally. Emily was indeed clever, coming up with an excuse so quickly. No wonder she had been fooled by them in her previous life. With such a quick tongue capable of turning black into white, how could her straightforward self have been a match?

Raegan had no interest in wearing something made by them and frowned as she said:

"Thank you both for the kind gesture, but this pajama is so outdated. My dad definitely wouldn't like it. Also, the size seems off—it doesn't look like it'll fit my dad. Dad, how about giving this pajama to Mr. Caine? It looks just right for him."

Mr. Caine, now holding the silk pajama that Raegan had unceremoniously shoved into his arms, could only manage a wry smile.

‘Miss Raegan, is this really appropriate?'

Though Raegan had grown to dislike her previous bratty behavior, she now realized that being willful had its advantages. At least now, by casually handing off the pajama to Mr. Caine, Sophia and Emily couldn’t say anything—they could only swallow their frustration.

Samuel Taylor’s sharp gaze swept over Sophia, who guiltily lowered her head. His expression darkened, but instead of scolding his daughter for her rudeness, he said calmly:

"Raegan knows my tastes well—I’m not a big fan of pajamas made of such material."

With Samuel Taylor’s words, the guests’ glances at Sophia became laced with mockery. Emily had hoped that her uncle would chastise Raegan to save face for them, but all she got was contempt. Raegan's decision to give the thoughtfully crafted pajama to a member of the household staff was essentially supported by him.

Emily felt a wave of frustration. Seeing Raegan so close to uncle again, without a hint of guilt for undermining her, she couldn’t help but speak up:

"Raegan, since you know uncle so well, what birthday gift did you prepare for him?"

Samuel Taylor gently patted his daughter's hand, giving Emily a meaningful look as he preemptively answered her question, "Raegan's presence at my birthday is the best gift I could ask for."

Emily’s face tightened at her uncle’s blatant favoritism. His subtle warning only deepened her resentment toward Raegan—it was all her fault that their intentions and plans were ruined.

"Raegan, as your cousin, I made sure to carefully prepare a birthday gift. You, as uncle’s daughter, wouldn’t have forgotten to prepare something, would you? After all, all of uncle's friends brought gifts, too. How can you not feel bad if you came empty-handed, even if uncle doesn’t mind?"

Raegan maintained a light smile, hiding the deep hatred she felt. She didn’t want to cause a scene on her father’s birthday, but Emily’s relentless provocations were wearing her patience thin. Her smile became icy,

"Who said I didn’t bring a gift?"

"You brought a gift? But I didn’t see you carry anything when you came in."

Raegan sat while Emily stood, but even though Emily should have had the upper hand, Raegan's calm demeanor made her feel subdued,

"That’s because some gifts aren’t easy to carry. Do you have any problem with that?"

Emily was momentarily taken aback by Raegan's words, realizing she had overstepped. She quickly recovered, squeezing a smile,

"Then it must be something very valuable. May I have the honor of seeing it?"

Raegan had just publicly opened the gift Emily brought, so now Emily wanted to see what Raegan had prepared.

Raegan responded lazily, "You want to see? Sure."

Turning to her father, Raegan smiled sweetly, "Dad, Mitchel and I prepared a birthday gift for you. It should have arrived by now. Would you like to step outside with me and see if you like it?"

Samuel Taylor hadn’t expected his daughter to not only change her temperament but also to prepare a gift for him. Delighted, he stood up, "Sure, I’d love to see what my precious daughter’s got for me."

The others, intrigued, followed them outside to see the mysterious gift.

In the front yard, a large truck was parked with four men in black suits standing guard, all wearing earpieces.

Raegan, holding her father’s arm, led him toward the truck, while the others followed, wondering what could be inside.

With bodyguards stationed outside, the gift must be quite valuable.

Samuel Taylor’s curiosity grew as he stood next to the truck and asked his daughter, "Sweetheart, can you tell me what it is?"

Emily, trailing behind, strained to hear the answer.

Raegan smiled, a sly glint in her eyes, "It’s a secret, Dad. You’ll have to open the truck to find out."

Everyone waited with bated breath as Samuel Taylor reached for the truck’s latch. His heart pounded with anticipation, sensing that this gift would be something he truly cherished. He pulled out a pill from his pocket, swallowed it dry, and then lifted the latch to open the truck’s door.

The truck’s ramp lowered, and a cargo machine began unloading a long wooden crate.

The four men in black quickly opened the crate, removed the protective air cushions, and gradually revealed a giant painting.

"Isn’t…Isn't this the painting that was auctioned at Christie's for a record-breaking price? Samuel, it’s your wife’s work, Dora and the Kitten, right?"

"Yes, that’s it! Samuel, weren't you at the auction too? Unfortunately, you were outbid at the last moment. I remember you tried to buy it back from the winning bidder, but they refused. And now, your daughter has brought it back for you. You must be overjoyed."