“Rena had a rtionship with Harold, and you didn’t tell me. You even date her and want to marry her.”


    Waylen reclined against the headboard, gently caressing his sister’s head, as a mischievous smile adorned his face.


    “They did have a rtionship, but it doesn’t count. Rena’s first man was me.”


    Cecilia remained skeptical. “So, you meant to say that they weren’t in a real rtionship because they didn’t have sex?”


    Waylen adopted an “of course” expression, emphasizing. “A shared meal doesn’t equate to a rtionship. By that logic, is Dad in a rtionship with the servants he dines with?”


    Cecilia was left speechless, unable to counter his argument.


    Waylen gently caressed Cecilia’s head, his voice filled with concern as he inquired, “Now, please tell me. Do you still desire to be in Harold’spany?”


    Cecilia’s countenance turned pallid, and she shook her head in response, silently conveying her answer.


    Her longing for Harold had dissipated entirely, evaporating like a fleeting wisp of smoke.Text property ? N?vel(D)ra/ma.Org.


    The reason for her change of heart was Harold’s infidelity, which had transpired even before their nuptials, leaving Cecilia with no desire to pursue a rtionship with him any longer.


    Waylen’s demeanor toward Cecilia was devoid of sarcasm, his actions embracing her gently, reminiscent of their childhood days.


    In the span of a protracted moment, he lowered his head and whispered, “Come to my abode on another asion. I shall request Rena to fry some sulent chicken drumsticks for you. They are your favorite, aren’t they?” Cecilia disengaged herself from his embrace, observing him with a gaze akin to that of a caring nurse attending to a patient.


    After a prolonged pause, she sniffled softly and said slowly, “Dad is greatly incensed. I fear he will not endorse your rtionship with Rena any longer. Moreover, Rena seems unforgiving and disinterested in marrying you. Waylen… are we destined to remain singlepanions?”


    Within the confines of the Fowlers’ study, Korbyn seethed with anger, unable to fathom the situation that had unfolded before him.


    What the hell was going on?


    The two children he held in high regard, Harold and Rena, had been engaged in a ndestine romance for four long years. It was inconceivable.


    As Waylen entered the room, Korbyn’s fury erupted, leading him to hurl a cup against his own son.


    Waylen made no effort to evade the projectile, resulting in a gash on his forehead from the impact, and crimson droplets trickled down his face.


    Juliette’s heart winced with pain at the sight.


    Korbyn sneered contemptuously. “Look at you. A meré scratch, and yet you fret over him. He anticipated this reaction from you, which is why he resorts to such tactics.”


    Waylen maintained a pretense of ignorance. “Dad, what concern is Harold’s affair to me?”


    Korbyn’s rage spiraled out of control.


    He pointed an using finger at Waylen and vented his fury. “You persist in feigning ignorance. How proficient you are at deception! It may be eptable for you to intimidate others in court but do you truly believe you can deceive your own father within the confines of our home? Let me tell you, Harold’s mistress divulged everything to me.”


    Waylen chose to remain silent.