Finn shot back at Vianne, his tone sharp.
Silvia, who stood to the side, arched an eyebrow as she watched Finn struggle to find the right words. The hint of a smile played at her lips, tinged with curiosity.
So, something had happened between her brother and Vianne. What on earth could Vianne have done to get under Finn’s skin like this? Finn was never one to let things get to him—yet here he was, visibly agitated.
“It’s just that I rely too much on you, Finn,” Vianne said softly.
“That’s enough!” Finn cut her off, his expression darkening. His usually handsome features hardened, jaw clenched. “Vianne, if you’re standing here now, it means they’ve agreed to let you stay. I’m not going to throw you out, but if you step out of line again, don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
“I won’t,” Vianne replied, a faint smile in her eyes.
“If you want to stay, I’m not stopping you,” Silvia said, fixing Vianne with a cool stare. “But you have to agree to one thing: when you speak to my parents, you’ll call them ‘Mr. and Mrs. Anderson.’ Not Mom and Dad.”
Just the sound of Vianne calling her mother anything close to “Mom” made Silvia’s skin crawl. She knew she’d have to see Vianne often in the days ahead, and this was a non-negotiable boundary.
“If it means we can all be together as a family… I’ll agree,” Vianne said, forcing a smile. Her eyes shone red, as if she were about to cry, her voice full of wounded resignation.
“Mother’s resting. Don’t go upstairs,” Silvia warned again.
At her words, Vianne glanced at Finn, saw the icy look on his face, and finally nodded in reluctant agreement.
Silvia led Finn out to the garden. Once they were alone and certain Vianne hadn’t followed, she lowered her voice. “Finn, what happened between you and Vianne?”

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