Seeing Lionel like this, the elders had no desire to waste another word on him.
One by one, the three elders stood up and headed upstairs.
As far as they were concerned, the leak from the meeting had been resolved when the statement was issued.
There was no need to say anything more to Lionel.
He now had a divorce to deal with, and if he still had time to argue with them about this, they wouldn't mind adding to his troubles.
Lionel stood frozen, watching the elders' retreating figures, his brow knitting in frustration.
The vast living room was empty except for him.
He sat alone on the sofa, his fingers tightly interlaced, his body leaning heavily against the backrest.
Outside, a fierce wind had picked up, whipping branches against the windows with a loud crash.
Each thud felt like a heavy blow to his heart, making him feel even more agitated and distressed.
He had thought that once he was cleared of the leak, he could find a way to investigate Quennel and gather evidence against him.
But he never expected to be ensnared by Hannah's trap before he could even begin.
Now, Quennel had made a clean getaway, and everyone's attention was on his and Hannah's divorce.
No one cared anymore whether the servant was the real leaker.
“Quennel, oh Quennel, why are you so lucky? Why was I the one who got lost, and not you?”
Lionel let out a cold laugh, a bitter feeling swelling in his chest.
He wondered, if Quennel had been the one who got lost instead of him, would things be different now?
Would the elders treat him better?
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