Arthur’s P.O.V. (Continued)
The moment they sensed my presence as I stepped inside the living room, they became silent, and the air in the living room shifted.
I strode towards them, one hand thrust inside my pocket, another hand clutching my phone tightly.
I stopped behind the single couch and observed them coldly.
Winfred was sitting on the long couch to my right with his younger daughter, Gloria Ashford.
He was sitting comfortably, legs crossed, hand spread at the edge of the couch behind Gloria as if he owned this place.
He immediately straightened his back as soon as he noticed me.
His expression still carried the same fake and calculated politeness that reeked of flattery.
Beside him, Gloria was posing herself as a refined and delicate woman with a perfect, practiced soft smi
