Chapter 4

Tristan eyed Rupert as he walked in, picking up his coffee mug and gently blowing on the steam, his gaze drifting towards Sylvia in a seemingly nonchalant manner. Yet, the chill in his eyes was unmistakable, almost intimidating. "Really, what's with all the drama? Don't we have enough scandals as it is?"-

"Sylvia, you and your mom have been part of the Garcia family for years now, and we've treated you well. You know you've messed up, and you should just own up to it."

That was the line! It was just shy of outright threatening her and her mother.

Tristan, always aloof towards Naomi, had now effectively cornered her.

Naomi, already timid and easily frightened, couldn't hold her composure any longer.

She rushed forward, grabbing Sylvia's arm, tears streaming down her face as she persuaded, "Sylvia, just apologize to your grandpa, and all will be forgiven. Let's not make this any worse!" Apologize?

Huh.

Naomi didn't understand. The old man had no intentions of letting her off the hook; he was waiting for Sylvia to bow down and apologize, to become the Garcia family's shield against public outrage.

Sylvia no longer looked down, straightening her back, her gaze sweeping across the room before finally landing on Rupert.

his gaze icy, unyielding.

time, she was determined to disappoint

look, Sylvia, despite the numbness in her

"Why should I apologize?"

purple with rage; he spilled his

the person in those photos is so blurry. How could the paparazzi claim it's me? Did you see me climbing into his bed? Or, let me guess...did my dear uncle here see me in

as she didn't

to admit, the woman in

love with Bridget, why would he

darkened, his fingers, adorned with the ring, tightened. He didn't respond

did you call

"Uncle."

emotions deep within. In this life, all mistakes

"Very well."

sat gracefully, his

him look superior, his glance seemed to pierce

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