Chapter 807 Raymond’s Sins Are Etched In Stone

“The Lenoirs are here?” Cherise’s eyebrows shot up like startled sparrows.

With no time to ponder, she followed Syatt like a shadow.

Zooming past the wards, she caught a fleeting glimpse of Lyra, her eyes swollen, emerging from one. Cherise didn’t give it much thought; after all, this girl was overly dramatic, shedding tears over the most trivial things.

Entering Raymond’s ward alongside Syatt, Cherise encountered a bustling corridor.

There was Maeve, slumped on a bench with Charles nervously buzzing around like a concerned bee. And Tristan, head hung low with shoulders slumped, stood nearby. On the opposite side, Damien brooded like a raincloud, surrounded by some of the loyal servants of the Lenoir family.

corner, Wanda, the epitome of nonchalance, tapped away on her phone, probably indulging in some gossip

mean, Cherry!” he stammered with a nervous grin. “I’m so glad you made it. Can you… uh, talk some sense into Dame?”

to Damien, taking his cold hand in hers. “Charles, what

spare my father.” Tristan’s voice rasped from the shadows, filled with the

asking you for this…after everything.” He said while meeting Cherise’s

where I’m coming from. Raymond Lenoir is my dad. I know he messed up and deserves some

consumed by finding you, leaving the company on the brink of collapse. I took charge, kept things running, and never asked for a fancy title or a hefty paycheck. I simply put in the hours, day after day. I might not be an outstanding performer; perhaps I stumbled a bit, but no one can say I didn’t give it my all. I’m ready to keep working for Damien until I retire, until my last breath… I just hope you and Damien would be

face. Her mind grappled with the weight of the request.

Damien raised his head, his eyes like molten steel. He locked onto Tristan, his voice dripping with icy rage. “You pleaded for your father, Tristan, but who pleads for mine? Who brings them back? Who heals the wounds your dad tore into my mom, the innocent one in all of this? Your parents are your shield, while mine are ghosts haunting me. Why should your precious family walk free when

voice grew hoarse, anger contorting his features. He pointed a

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