Betrayed by the Father Reborn in His Rival's Arms novel Chapter 380

Wyatt finished his tea.

But with every sip, his expression grew increasingly troubled.

He quietly slipped away from the main seating area, afraid the others might notice his shift in demeanor.

He muttered under his breath, "How is this possible? How can it be exactly the same?"

Years ago, he had traveled with his elders to a castle in Germany.

While staying there, he had met Quentin and his little sister, the Prescott heiress.

He had asked his father about her, only to learn the situation was incredibly complex. The girl wasn't actually of Prescott blood; she was the daughter of Rosemary Monroe, the Prescott patriarch's adopted daughter.

His father had also explained that the Prescott family's current empire was largely built on the Monroe family's inheritance. Back then, the Monroes were a legendary powerhouse in a wealthy coastal metropolis.

Because of this, the Prescott patriarch had sworn that Rosemary would inherit at least half of the Prescott empire, if not more.

Therefore, the little princess was the rightful heiress to the Prescott family, holding a status practically equal to Quentin's.

The Prescott heiress was beloved by everyone who met her, showered in endless affection.

Her father was a brilliant, multi-talented artist who mastered various instruments and performing arts. He played the violin and the two-stringed fiddle, excelled at the piano, sang opera, and even practiced artisan tea whisking.

Rumor had it that his late mother had personally taught him the art of tea whisking.

And he, in turn, taught the little princess.

The girl was brilliantly clever, quickly mastering whatever caught her interest.

Even at a young age, she could whisk tea until it was silky and fragrant.

But after she whipped up the foam, her father would ask her to practice her calligraphy on it. Despite having excellent handwriting, she would playfully sketch a little kitten instead.

After drawing it, she would intentionally make a silly face at her father.

Wyatt had never forgotten that tiny detail.

He found it fascinating back then and had tried to mimic it for a long time, but he could never even generate the foam. That was when he realized how insanely difficult it was.

Now, not only had Madeline effortlessly whipped up a bowl of dense foam, but she had also drawn the exact same kitten from his memory. How was that possible?

Wyatt's mind reeled in disbelief.

Could Madeline be the true Prescott heiress?