Her Gilded Revenge For Stolen Fate novel Chapter 55

Chapter 55

“Quentin, I haven’t even said I’m going to punish Sylvía, and you’re already jumping to her defense. Do you even see me as your mother anymore?” Beatrice said.

Beatrice wasn’t Quentin’s birth mother; she was his father’s official wife. There was always a layer of distance between them, not being related by blood.

That was why Beatrice rarely spoke harshly to Quentin. She didn’t want to cause any conflict between Quentin and her.

But for Sylvia’s sake, Quentin just kept making one mistake after another. He was completely out of his mind. He had none of the dignity or sense a duke should have.

Quentin’s anger, which had been about to erupt, suddenly stalled.

He lowered his head, apologizing anxiously, full of fear and respect, “Mother, I’ve always respected you. How could I ever dare to disrespect you?

“Vivian has gone too far. She’s so young and shameless, sneaking around with a man. If we don’t set her straight, people will gossip about us every chance they get, and Father would never be able to rest easy in the afterlife.”

“A man?” Beatrice tapped her cane against the floor with a sneer. “Why don’t you ask Sylvia how he ended up here?”

Quentin was taken aback, his eyes snapping to Sylvia. He demanded, “Do you know this man?”

Ever since he took up the title, Quentin had kept himself aloof, rarely interacting with Sylvia’s family. He had no clue that the young man Vivian was accused of meeting in secret was actually Sylvia’s nephew.

Sylvia’s heart sank as she realized it. Her first instinct was to hide the truth, since she was afraid Quentin would hold it against her.

But everyone else in the room, except Quentin, already knew who Charles was. Even if she tried to spin some wild story, it would be full of holes. She’d just end up making a fool of herself.

‘I might as well just tell the truth and hope Quentin’s sympathy for me would help me get through this,‘ Sylvia wondered.

Sylvia bit down hard on her tongue, the sharp pain jolting her back to reality.

She tilted her head up, letting those watery, pleading eyes lock onto Quentin, looking heartbreakingly vulnerable.

Sylvia sobbed, “Your Grace, it’s all my fault. I never should’ve let my family get mixed up in this. If I hadn’t, my nephew wouldn’t have done something so shameful and dragged my name through the mud.”

Quentin never would’ve dreamed that this brazen flirt was actually Sylvia’s nephew.

So it seemed Vivian’s flirtatious nature and secret promises to a man were something Sylvia, as her mother, couldn’t possibly wash her hands of.

But Sylvia had only just been let out of house arrest, and she had grown noticeably thinner.

Sylvia was a concubine, and her status was naturally beneath Flora’s. There was no way Sylvia could withstand Beatrice’s wrath.

In the end, Quentin, captivated by Sylvia’s beauty and unable to forget the debt he owed her, hesitated for a long moment before choosing to spare Sylvia and let Vivian shoulder all the consequences.

Quentin said, “Sylvia, this has nothing to do with you. It’s all Vivian’s fault. She’s the one who can’t behave herself.

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Chapter 55

55 Vouchere

“With so many girls in this family, how is it that she is the only one wrapped up in such filthy rumors and even got caught red–handed?”

Quentin chose to turn a blind eye to the whole underwear fiasco that happened at the hunting grounds.

After all, Celia was Quentin’s cherished legitimate daughter, his pride and joy. Vivian could never measure up to Celia.

Beatrice shook her head in silence.

Back then, Beatrice had picked Quentin out of several sons born to concubines because he wasn’t dumb, he was obedient, and he actually had some backbone.

But Beatrice never imagined that nearly twenty years of pampered living would wear away all the sharpness he once had, turning Quentin into just another petty bureaucrat, narrow–minded, unable to stand anyone who didn’t fit his mold.

Especially now. Quentin would toss his pride out the window just to cover for his concubine, always finding ways to push his daughter down.

Beatrice couldn’t help but wonder if she weren’t his father’s official wife, if the weight of filial piety wasn’t holding him back. whether Quentin would treat her the same way he treated Vivian.

When people were set on blaming her, no matter what she said, it would never be enough to clear her name.

Since arriving at Hearthstone Court, Vivian had kept silent the whole time.

Now, Vivian stepped forward, walking past the sobbing Sylvia, and went straight to Beatrice and Flora, reaching out to hold their hands. Vivian’s fingertips were cold, but her palms were warm.

“Grandmother, Mother, there’s nothing going on between Charles and me. He waited for me at the silk shop on purpose today, just to ruin my reputation,” Vivian said.

Quentin snapped, “You rebellious brat, you’re always making things up, and now with the evidence staring us in the face, you still won’t come clean? Today, you’re going to learn what family discipline really means.”

The family discipline in the Snyder family was a barbed switch, remarkably supple and sturdy, but cruel all the same.

The barbs were so sharp that just a touch could break the skin and draw blood.

Back in her previous life, Vivian got lashed with that barbed switch more than once.

The first time was out at the hunting grounds, when Vivian was framed for flirting with Prince Xavier.

The second time was when Vivian got caught secretly promising herself to some guy.

Every time they brought out that switch, Vivian’s skin would be torn to shreds, blood dripping everywhere.

Celia had once begged for mercy on Vivian’s behalf, sobbing so hard that she actually passed out from heartbreak.

Quentin grew even more furious, yelling that if Vivian hadn’t been so cold–hearted and didn’t care about her sister at all. dragging Celia’s reputation through the mud, Celia wouldn’t have ended up so sick.

If this ruined Celia’s chance to marry the prince, Quentin would make sure Vivian paid the price, even if it meant skinning her alive.

That night, wracked with guilt, Sylvia personally brought in a so–called miracle doctor to examine Celia.

The doctor declared with absolute certainty that Celia had inherited Flora’s delicate constitution, making her naturally frail.

After Celia was so emotionally shaken today, her heart and spirit were severely damaged, and the only way to restore her

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Chapter 55

strength was to use the blood of a close relative as a medicine primer.

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12 BE YOUChers

Since Vivian was the one everyone blamed for Celia’s illness, it was only natural that she should be the one to provide the blood.

After all, Vivian was the one who messed up and made Celia this sick.

Vivian was indignant, her heart burning with resentment. She flat–out refused to let them take her blood for Celia.

But in this sprawling Aurea Manor, nobody gave a damn about what Vivian wanted.

To them, Celia was the flawless pearl, and Vivian was nothing but a speck of sand at her side. If tossing away that worthless grain could polish the pearl and wipe off any stain, they’d do it in a heartbeat.

For them, it was the perfect trade. Everyone was more than willing.

In the end, Vivian lost even the right to say no. She was chained to the bed, iron shackles locking her hands and feet, leaving her completely helpless; no matter how much she screamed or struggled, it didn’t matter.

Sylvia picked up the dagger, crying as she leaned over Vivian. She said, “Vivian, please don’t hate me. I really don’t want this. but there’s nothing I can do.”

The dagger was cold as ice as Sylvia pressed it to Vivian’s wrist, cutting deep to draw her blood.

Vivian felt a chill seeping into her bones, so cold it was like she was turning to ice.

Vivian stared at Sylvia, a storm of confusion and disbelief swirling inside her.

‘How could a mother be this heartless?‘ Vivian had thought. ‘She’d rather hurt her daughter just to save someone who wasn’t even her own flesh and blood. She doesn’t care about me at all.

Everyone said Sylvia knew how to carry herself, that a madwoman like Vivian was unworthy of being called her daughter. Vivian wasn’t just loose; she had even driven her own sister to ruin.

They all pitied Sylvia, who was always so kind and dutiful.

To repay old favors and atone for her mistakes, Sylvia forced herself to bury a mother’s love, steeling her heart as she took up the dagger herself to deal with the disaster Vivian had caused.

It was heartbreaking, really.

However, Vivian was the only one who knew the real story. When Sylvia looked at Vivian, her eyes were full of tears, but inside, Sylvia was laughing at her.

Sylvia’s smile was bursting with pride and satisfaction, shining with a kind of wild delight.

Those tears were cold as ice; there wasn’t a shred of warmth in them, much less any motherly love.