"I regret ever crossing paths with you, Moira." Asher’s voice was no longer calm.

It was cold sharp and heavy. Filled with years of buried disappointment. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

"I endured you again and again because of Shay," he continued, his dark eyes fixed on her with restrained fury. "But you keep crossing the line."

The dining room instantly fell silent.

Even the servants lowered their heads, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Then suddenly, Asher pushed his chair back with a harsh screech and stood up.The oppressive aura around him made Moira’s heart jolt unexpectedly.

Without another word, he strode toward the door.

But just before leaving, he paused. One hand rested against the doorknob as he slowly looked back over his shoulder. The look in his eyes made Moira’s blood run cold.

"Watch your mouth carefully," he said darkly. "The next time you insult me..."

A dangerous pause followed.

"You will be thrown out of this mansion."

His gaze sharpened.

"And you will never see Shay again."

Bang!

The door slammed shut with enough force to shake the walls.

Moira froze in place. Shock flooded her face.

She had never seen Asher react like that before.

Not once.

Even when she mocked him... belittled him... treated him like dirt beneath her heels. She hurled hurtful words at him but he did not react the way he did now.

Asher had always tolerated it silently. So why now?

Did she go too far? The thought barely surfaced before rage exploded violently inside her chest.

"Damn you, Asher Zuvel!" she screamed hysterically. "You useless loser!"

Her eyes reddened with humiliation and fury.

"I regret sleeping with you that night!" The words tore out of her throat viciously.

"It should’ve been Ares!"

Her breathing turned uneven.

"But why did you appear and ruin everything?!"

Crash!

Moira violently swept her arm across the dining table.

Plates, wine glasses, silverware... everything shattered onto the marble floor in a deafening explosion.

The maids flinched in terror. One servant nearly stumbled backward from fear.

Only the old butler remained calm.

He adjusted his white gloves before walking toward her with composed steps.

"Miss Torres," he said politely, though his tone carried unmistakable warning, "this is the Zuvel Mansion."

His sharp gaze lifted toward her. "You are merely a guest here."

A suffocating silence followed.

"Please remember your place."

Moira’s expression twisted instantly. For a second, she truly wanted to slap him.

How dare a mere butler lecture her? But reality hit just as quickly.

Everything he said was true. She was not Mrs. Zuvel.

Not yet.

Moira clenched her fists so tightly her nails nearly pierced her palms.

She inhaled deeply. Then exhaled.

Once.

Twice.

Again and again until the anger burning inside her chest finally settled slightly.

Without another word, she turned around and stormed upstairs.

Bang!

The bedroom door slammed open so violently that the painting hanging beside it tilted crookedly.

Inside the luxurious room, Beatrice sat elegantly before the vanity mirror, applying make up with practiced grace.

She did not even flinch. Instead, she calmly glanced at her daughter’s furious reflection through the mirror.

"Well," she drawled lazily, "who upset my precious daughter this time?"

"It’s Asher!" Moira snapped furiously as she threw herself onto the bed. "That spineless, unambitious man disgusts me!"

Her voice rose higher with every word.

"Why was it him that night?! Why couldn’t it have been Ares instead?!"

Beatrice sighed softly before setting the mascara down.

"My daughter," she said patiently, standing up, "haven’t I already told you countless times to control your temper? Remember, men like gentle women."

She walked toward the bed with slow, graceful steps before sitting beside Moira.

"Ares Zuvel is not an ordinary man," Beatrice continued calmly while gently stroking her daughter’s back. "He is disciplined. Rational. Untouchable."

A faint smirk appeared on her lips.

"You’ve tried seducing him so many times already, yet he never once took the bait."

Moira bit her lip bitterly. That was the truth she hated most.

No matter how beautiful she was... No matter how many men fell at her feet... Ares never looked at her the way she wanted him to.

"But Asher is different," Beatrice continued softly. "And whether you like it or not, he is Shay’s biological father. For the sake of Shay, he might consider building a life with you."

Her eyes narrowed shrewdly.

"The Zuvel Conglomerate is far too massive for Ares to manage alone. Eventually, Asher will receive his share of the empire."

"But Mom..." Moira sat upright, frustration filling her face. "Asher is pathetic. Yes, he’s handsome, but he has no ambition. No dominance. What future will I have with him? He is so weak!"

Beatrice suddenly laughed quietly. It was not a warm laugh. It was calculating and cold.

"Daughter," she murmured, "you’re being shortsighted."

A strange gleam flickered in her eyes.

"Even before, the Zuvel family was already terrifyingly powerful and filthy rich."

Her lips slowly curled upward.

"But now..." Her voice lowered meaningfully.

"With the discovery on Isla... the Zuvels have become even more untouchable."

Moira’s brows furrowed slightly.

Beatrice leaned closer.

"They are descendants of the imperial bloodline."

Each word landed heavily.

"Their blood is precious."

Then her smile deepened.

"And you gave birth to a princess carrying that blood."

Moira opened her mouth, wanting to argue—

But Beatrice immediately pressed a finger gently against her lips.

"Shh."

Her gaze turned sharp.

"If you want power... status... fame..." Her voice became dangerously soft. "Then stop looking down on Asher."

She tucked a strand of hair behind Moira’s ear lovingly.

"Win his heart."

A pause.

"Regain Shay’s trust."

Then Beatrice smiled slowly.

"Because the moment Asher truly chooses you..."

Her eyes darkened with ambition.

"You will own half of the Zuvel empire."

Moira slowly lifted her head and looked at her mother.

Really looked at her...

At the elegant smile curving Beatrice’s lips...

.At the calmness in her posture...

At the calculating gleam hidden deep within those sharp, cunning eyes...

A chill suddenly crept down Moira’s spine. So that was it. No wonder her mother had gone to such extremes to drag her back to Laguna. No wonder Beatrice kept forcing her to endure Asher despite her disgust.

This had never been about love. Never about family.

It was about the Zuvel empire. About power, wealth and fame. About securing their place beside one of the most influential bloodlines in the country.

Slowly... horrifyingly...

Moira finally understood the true scale of her mother’s ambitions.

Beatrice had never planned for her to become merely Asher’s wife.

No.

Her mother wanted more.