Vincent sat upright, gently took her hand, and kissed it softly. "I'll get a lawyer to speed things up. We'll cut all ties with your biological mother. She won't bother you again."
Dorothy smiled at him. "Thank you."
A servant entered the dining room and respectfully handed her the phone. "Mrs. Valentine, your phone has been vibrating non-stop."
Dorothy glanced at the screen—"Mom" was calling.
Her face turned cold. "Ignore her."
"Yes, Mrs. Valentine," the servant replied and left.
Dorothy took a sip of her milk, her expression unreadable. Vincent watched her, realizing just how deeply hurt she was this time.
With just the two of them left in the room, she set down her cup and looked him in the eye. "Vincent, can I really trust you?"
Vincent put down his knife and fork, meeting her
