Chapter 122: About who is the daughter...
"What are you even saying, Arthur?" Angel’s voice trembled slightly, frustration lacing her words. "I don’t have anything. Not a single thing. Not one common thing that anyone would want!"
Arthur let out a low chuckle, the amusement in his tone making her stomach twist.
He leaned back slightly, folding his arms as if thoroughly entertained by her naivety.
"Now, come to think of it," he mused, tilting his head, "there’s an old saying—if you don’t know the value of what you possess, you’re bound to misuse it. And in your case, Angel, it couldn’t be more fitting. In fact, it’s painfully obvious."
He paused deliberately, letting his words sink in, watching her struggle to process the implications.
Angel’s brows furrowed, her chest tightening. "What are you trying to say, Arthur?"
Arthur exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with a smirk that sent a shiver down her spine.
"You think Tryson truly loves you? That his engagement, his return to you, is driven by nothing but love?" His voice dripped with skepticism, and a sharp scoff followed.
Angel’s lips parted, and she instantly felt the sting of his accusation.
"Yes, Arthur. He does love me. He came back because he cares."
Her words came out firm, but deep within, something twisted—an unfamiliar feeling she refused to acknowledge.
