The final note carried a dangerous signal.
Delphine instinctively shrank back, her face subtly changing. She wanted to argue but immediately recalled that this was indeed her private matter. Who she liked or disliked had nothing to do with others. Besides, over the years, this man had stolen far too much from her. So, she lowered her gaze and said indifferently, "Mr. Leclair, have you been drinking too much again? Are you planning to lose control in the car this time?"
Her demeanor was devoid of emotion—by now, she had even given up on pretending.
Ignatius Leclair's eyes brimmed with rage as he stretched out to grasp her sharp chin, his voice restrained and deep, enunciating each word, "Because I abandoned you back then, you've never been able to move past it, have you? That child—I'll arrange for someone to offer prayers for him. If you want, we can still have children in the future."
