Justin’s voice rang through the marble-clad hall like an old patriarch clinging to decayed authority. “What you did with that poor girl,” he said with mock sympathy, pointing at Melissa, “is called marriage. And because of that charity, she now holds the title of daughter-in-law in this mansion. And as a daughter-in-law, it’s her duty to bend down and touch her father-in-law’s feet.”
Melissa’s brows furrowed, her eyes stinging—not just from the insult but from the sickening authority he used to twist what should’ve been sacred.
But the moment Justin uttered the next name, the air shifted.
“Or maybe, had you married Salena, she would’ve had more class. At least she knew how to respect—”
Alec’s jaw clenched. His eyes burned—not wild, not feral, but eerily calm. The kind of calm that stor
