Eleanor smiled grimly. "Worth it. Absolutely worth it."
But her smile was more horrifying than a weeping ghost.
Suddenly, she lifted her gaze.
"Quentin, there is something I must tell you."
"And what is that?" he asked.
"You have an older brother," she announced.
Madeline froze in shock.
Quentin had a brother?
That was impossible.
If she hadn't regained her memories, she might have been able to process it.
But she had, and she distinctly remembered that his grandfather only had one son, just as Quentin's parents only had one child.
He was the sole heir of three generations.
There was no way he had a brother.
Realizing her shock was too visible, she quickly composed herself, afraid Eleanor would notice something amiss.
Eleanor didn't pay her much mind, knowing the public only ever knew of Quentin as the sole grandson and heir of The Prescott Family.
Quentin looked amused. "Is that so? My mother never mentioned anything of the sort."
Eleanor sighed heavily.
"That's because he was born to your grandfather's illegitimate son. But he is still my grandson. I've obviously known about his existence all along."
"Grandfather didn't seem like the type of man to do such a thing," Quentin shot back.
He saw right through her lies.
This was undoubtedly a fabricated story she devised to introduce her own illegitimate offspring to the world.
If she had birthed a child entirely unrelated to the family, she would be branded as morally bankrupt and despicable.
Whether through modern reproductive methods or affairs, she had crossed a serious ethical line.
It meant she had carried another man's child while married to Alistair Prescott Sr.
Such a scandalous origin would never be accepted by the public.




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