She went out shopping almost every other day, returning each time with armfuls of new purchases, of clothes, shoes, bags, accessories, which was far more than she could ever realistically use.

Most of them barely saw the light of day before being forgotten, discarded, or given away. To her, it wasn’t about need. It was about display, about proving, again and again, that she had the means to indulge.

Apollo had seen it clearly.

And he had allowed it.

But that didn’t mean he approved.

As the head of the family, the one who carried the weight of its wealth and responsibility, he knew exactly what those expenditures meant. The money Ophelia spent so carelessly was not something that simply fell from the sky; it was earned, secured, and protected through effort, risk, and sacrifice.

Watching it be wasted so thoughtlessly felt like a quiet insult to everything it had cost him to build.

Now, things were different.

His sister had returned.

And suddenly, the imbalance became impossible to ignore. Ophelia had already lived years in comfort, surrounded by luxury without question or limit. Was it really unreasonable to redirect that excess to place it where it actually mattered? If anything, this was long overdue.

He wasn’t denying Ophelia out of cruelty.

He was correcting her.

Teaching her, in the only way she would understand, that wealth wasn’t meant to be squandered without thought.

The truth was, he had simply been too preoccupied before, too consumed with searching for his mother and his missing sister, along with managing the family businesses while guarding against their enemies, to pay close attention to how freely Ophelia spent. But now that Chapter had changed.

And so would he.

He couldn’t deny that part of this was his own doing. He had allowed Ophelia to grow accustomed to indulgence, to be spoiled and pampered to the point that money no longer held any real meaning for her. She spent without thinking, not out of malice, but because she had never been taught otherwise. And that, in the end, traced back to him.

Still, it wasn’t too late to change.

If she saw him as her older brother, then he needed to start acting like one, properly this time. It might be long overdue, but that didn’t mean it was pointless. He intended to teach her what he should have taught her from the beginning: the value of money, the discipline behind it, and the responsibility that came with having it.

That was why he chose to take her out, but not to the same places. Instead of bringing her along to where Ashley and Aunt Lavinia were shopping, he deliberately led her elsewhere, letting her browse without spending, keeping her away from anything that might provoke her temper or sense of comparison.

He knew Ophelia well enough; if she saw how much was being spent on Ashley, it would only fuel her resentment.

There was still a risk, of course. Once they returned, she might catch sight of everything that had been purchased for Ashley. But he was counting on Aunt Lavinia to have already arranged things by then — out of sight, neatly put away.

If he was going to correct her, he would do it carefully.

Not by provoking her but by making her understand.

Apollo wasn’t trying to play favorites; if anything, he had placed himself squarely between two difficult sides.

His long-lost sister had only just returned, carrying a past he knew nothing about, how much she had suffered, what kind of life she had been forced to endure, or even what level of comfort she had once been used to.

And now, with her memories gone, she had come back only to find another girl living the life that should have been hers. That alone was enough to create a sense of imbalance, of quiet dissatisfaction that could easily take root if left unchecked.

If Ashley were to learn just how much Ophelia had spent over the years, while she herself had nothing, it would only deepen that divide.

At the same time, Ophelia had grown up by his side. He had given her everything, treated her as a true sister, and indulged her without restraint. That bond wasn’t something he could simply disregard now.

So he stood in the middle, unwilling and unable to choose one over the other.

All he could do was hope.

Hope that Ophelia would learn to step back, even a little, and make space for Ashley. Hope that Ashley, in time, would come to understand rather than resent. Perhaps, if things went well, they might even find common ground, learn to coexist, maybe even grow close enough to share moments as simple as shopping together, like real sisters.

It was an optimistic thought. Maybe even unrealistic.

But as their brother, he couldn’t afford to give up on that possibility. Not by favoring one and casting aside the other, that path would only lead to something far worse.

So instead, he chose to guide them carefully, doing what he could to keep the balance from tipping too far in either direction.

"Brother, my feet hurt. We’ve been walking around all this time and haven’t even bought anything..." Ophelia complained, her voice edged with clear dissatisfaction.

Apollo glanced at her, tilting his head slightly, genuine confusion flickering across his features. "Haven’t you always walked around like this without any problem?" he asked.

And he meant it. Ophelia had spent entire days in the mall before, effortlessly moving from one boutique to another in five-inch heels, never once complaining.

Sometimes she would pause for a spa session or linger over tea with her friends, but more often than not, she could shop from morning until evening without the slightest sign of fatigue.

So what was different now?

The answer came to him, though he didn’t voice it.

Back then, every step had been fueled by anticipation, by the thrill of buying, of acquiring something new. Now, without that incentive, even a short walk seemed unbearable to her.

Was extravagance really that powerful a motivator?

Apollo studied her quietly, his thoughts settling. What he wanted wasn’t to deny her for the sake of it, but to shift her perspective. Shopping, in his eyes, wasn’t just about spending; it was about discernment.

Understanding value. Comparing quality, branding, placement, and purpose before making a decision. These were things she had never needed to consider before.

And that was precisely what he intended to teach her now.

"That’s different!" Ophelia snapped, her voice rising despite herself as a flush crept across her face. Frustration simmered beneath her composure, her patience worn thin. She had been dropping hints all this time, subtle at first, then increasingly obvious, hoping he would take the cue.

A quiet café, a proper place to sit, perhaps even a spa where she could rest and have her aching legs attended to. Anything but this endless walking.

And yet, Apollo remained utterly oblivious.

To her, he felt as dense as stone, completely out of touch with what she was trying to convey. The more he failed to understand, the more her irritation mounted, until even her reasoning began to unravel, stretched to its limit.