He looked at me.
For the first time, his gaze was no longer that of a subordinate toward an heir.
It was the scrutiny of an elder toward a junior.
“The top-floor elevator access is in my hands.”
“Without my authorization, they wouldn’t even make it up one floor.”
“I let them up because I wanted to see—”
“Whether you could withstand it.”
“Whether you would break down in the face of humiliation.”
“Whether you could stand firm against slander.”
His voice gradually rose, carrying emotions suppressed for years.
“And I saw the result.”
“Very good.”
“Extremely good.”
His eyes reddened.
“You are far more resilient than your mother—Marielle.”
My body jolted.
Hearing my mother’s name spoken from his mouth felt strangely distant.
Edward took a deep breath.
His voice began to tremble
