Maeve's bluntness stole the momentum, leaving Millie momentarily unsure how to steer the conversation.
Under everyone's scrutiny, Maeve smiled like she couldn't care less.
"I thought students at Aethelburg University were supposed to be smart," she said. "Guess not."
Elena hurried to say, "I never believed any of it."
Mateo nodded. "Me neither."
Mateo's obvious bias made Millie's chest tighten with irritation.
One of Millie's friends nudged her shoulder. "Millie—look over there."
They were in a private room, but the door was open because the dishes hadn't all arrived. The hallway outside was clearly visible.
Millie followed the pointing finger—and froze.
"Uncle Andres."
Andres, out to dinner with a few friends, looked over.
The first person his eyes landed on wasn't Millie.
It was Maeve—impossible to miss, even sitting still.
He murmured something to his companions, then stepped into the room.
His arrival turned the lively table silent in an instant.
Andres wasn't much older than Millie, but the gap between them wasn't age—it was power, rank, and the fact that he ran the White family now.
He scanned the room once, then asked, "Dinner?"
Millie nodded quickly, barely containing herself. "Yes, Uncle Andres. It's the first day back, so everyone wanted to get together."
Andres had six older half-siblings—children the old patriarch had with a mistress.
Back then, the old man had made it clear: he'd provide basic support until they were eighteen. After that, whether they lived or died had nothing to do with the White family.

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