Once again, Brent found himself speechless. He pondered for a moment before exclaiming, "You moron! Shouldn't it be thirty?"

With a leisurely air, Raegan replied, “I'm the one making the offer, so I decide."

Brent huffed, "Don't dream about it. I'm telling you it's not happening. I'd consider thirty..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the engine roared to life, and the window began to rise.

Brent visibly paled at this. He had witnessed firsthand Raegan's determination, her actions speaking louder than her words. With a look of resignation, he shouted, “You're ruthless!"

As the window continued to rise, he yelled, worried Raegan might not hear him and decided to drive away, "Fine! Twenty! Deal! I say it's a deal!"

For Brent, who thrived on the thrill of gambling and was no stranger to life's ups and downs, the prospect of getting twenty didn't seem too shabby anymore. In his mind, twenty was better than zero.

At this, Raegan lowered the window and looked at Brent. "Speak now," she said.

Brent, wary of her getting away without paying him after hearing the secret from him, responded, “Give me the money first.”

At this point, Raegan had no concerns about Brent potentially lying.

Even if the information he had was useless, she saw the twenty thousand as offering him an escape route. After all, he was part of the Hayes family. Giving him one last shot at redemption wasn't a bad idea. Should he fail to seize this opportunity and veer off course again, the repercussions would be his to bear alone, and she would wash her hands of the matter. Her sympathy lay with his kind mother, not with him.

Raegan nodded, her expression serious. "Okay, but if you lie, you won't get away with it."

The demand for cash presented a dilemma, as Brent had no bank account to transfer the money to. How could Raegan have such a substantial amount of cash on her?

Yet, Brent insisted on seeing the money before he would divulge anything.

That was when Stefan interjected, "I have some." He then proceeded to retrieve twenty neat stacks of cash from the car's safe, handing them over to Brent.

Brent scrutinized the money, his gaze sharp. It looked like there were more than a million in that safe. He had always heard rumors that the affluent kept cash in their vehicles for unforeseen circumstances. The ease with which someone could stash a hundred thousand or more in their car for emergencies spoke volumes about their wealth.

Raegan, noticing Brent's barely hidden avarice, urged him, “Hurry up and speak."

After verifying the twenty stacks, Brent led Raegan to a quieter spot and began his tale in a measured tone, "Years ago, after a night out, my brother-in-law came to fetch me from a tavern. On our drive back, we stumbled upon a heap of garbage, where we heard a baby's cries piercing the night. It was unsettling. I urged him to drive on, yet he felt compelled to investigate.

I stayed back, but soon after, I watched him rescue a child from a sack. The child's head was encased in a thick plastic bag, seemingly with the intent to suffocate her. Miraculously, a stray stick had punctured the sack and the plastic, allowing the child to breathe. My brother-in-law brought the child home, and coincidentally, his daughter fell critically ill and passed away with acute encephalitis that very night.

My sister had passed away early, leaving behind this sole descendant.