It was the first time since their wedding that Silvia had reached out to hold him in bed. Kent’s eyes flickered with a complicated emotion he couldn’t quite name, something warm and unfamiliar swelling in his chest.
He didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around Silvia, pulling her close against him.
Breathing in sync, they soon drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
……
The next morning, Silvia woke to the glow of her phone screen, headlines already buzzing through her feed.
It was a new post from Vianne’s personal account—a so-called “clarification,” featuring a short video.
Kent had already left for The Parsons Group, so Silvia was alone in the house. She tapped play and watched.
In the video, Vianne faced the camera with red-rimmed eyes, looking utterly aggrieved. Her hands twisted nervously on the table, fidgeting as if she truly couldn’t settle.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” Vianne’s voice trembled. “Because of my situation, there’s been a lot of attention. That was never my intention. The Ashford family is wonderful. They’ve always treated me well. I just want to go home to them—that’s where I grew up, and I miss it dearly. Please, don’t misunderstand the Ashford family.”
It was barely fifteen seconds, but she managed to get her entire message across.
Tears shimmered in her eyes. She looked pitiful, repeating that the Ashfords were good to her, insisting she only wanted to return, nothing more.
She’d played both sides in one breath—casting herself as the victim, while supposedly defending the family.
On the surface, it looked like Vianne was clearing the Ashfords’ name. But to Silvia, it was obvious this was just another way of tossing them back into the center of public scrutiny.
Silvia scrolled through the comments beneath the video. As expected, people were already attacking the Ashfords, accusing them of heartlessness and greed, claiming that a family like that didn’t deserve respect—let alone to stand atop the social ladder of the capital.

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