"Dad, you've got it all wrong—" Margaret's voice trembled with unshed tears.
"We didn't do anything! It's Sinclair who's being unreasonable—"
"Shut your mouth!!"
Grandpa Luther's thunderous roar cut her off mid-sentence.
"Unlike that fool standing beside you, I'm not buying your act."
Decades of commanding the Luther Family empire had forged his authority into something unshakable, radiating from his very bones.
Margaret flinched as if struck, pressing her lips into a bloodless line, not daring another word.
"Father—" Jonathan frowned, ready to defend himself.
"Silence, you disgrace!"
The patriarch's fury burned hotter.
"If not for your reckless choices, Romina would never have taken that path!
And Sinclair—look what's become of him!"
With a white-knuckled grip on his cane, he swung at his son's torso.
"It's a well-known fact that the men of the Luther Family's direct lineage are all devoted lovers.
How did this gene manage to skip you?"
