But he’s still a bit too green.
I think I’ll test him.”
Grace’s heart skipped a beat.
This was completely different from her grandfather’s story of being a passive victim.
This was a proactive attack.
Grace continued reading.
“Month X, Day X. Rain.
I didn’t expect this Damien kid to be so ruthless.
He saw right through my entire plan.
He even found out I secretly sold our core technology overseas.
Hmph, interesting.
This is business. This is war.
You win some, you lose some.”
You win some, you lose some.
Even through the paper, Grace could feel the… resignation in her uncle’s words as he wrote that phrase.
There was even a thrill of meeting a worthy opponent, no resentment at all.
Certainly not the sense of “dying with a grievance” that her grandfather had described.
Grace’s fingers lingered on the page for a long time.
Her grandfather had said Damien drove her uncle to his death.
But the diary clearly stated that her uncle had done something he shouldn’t have…
And her uncle himself didn’t seem to consider it a disgrace.
“Month X, Day X. Overcast.
Father is nagging again.
I told him to stay out of it, but he won’t listen.
He’s convinced I’ve been wronged.
But there was no injustice.
I just wasn’t skilled enough.
The contract the Clarke family offered was actually a way out for me.
If I was willing to bow my head and admit my crimes, the Hawke family could have been saved.
But I don’t want to.
I have my pride. I don’t want to go to prison.
I’d rather go down in flames than surrender my pride.”
Reading this, Grace’s eyes started to burn.
It was all so absurd.
Her uncle had chosen to go down in flames for his own pride.
But her grandfather had never mentioned any of this.
In her grandfather’s version, the Clarke family were vicious monsters, and Damien was the executioner holding the ax.
And her uncle was a pure, innocent saint.
“Grandfather…”
Grace murmured to herself.
“How long have you been lying to yourself? And how long have you been lying to me?”

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