The Abandoned Heiress Reborn to Be Cherished (Seraphina) novel Chapter 301

Chapter 301 Released

“They always say that when choosing a wife, one should seek a virtuous woman. The wisdom of the ancestors, it seems, was undeniable.”

The situation within the Whitewood Family had spiraled into chaos. The household was far from peaceful, its discord escalating into a tempest of upheaval. This turbulence, more than anything, reflected the glaring inadequacy of the matriarch’s leadership.

“How good could the children raised by the Kennedy Family possibly turn out?” someone nearby muttered, their tone laced with mockery.

“I used to believe the Drakon and Foster families would intervene somehow,” another chimed in, their voice tinged with bitter amusement. “But I was completely mistaken. Do you remember that time when Oberon, that old fox, called Jason his son–in–law? And Jason didn’t even refute it? I thought there might be some truth to it. But now, looking at this mess… tsk, tsk. People from these grand families–they’re always so unpredictable.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the small circle. “Oh, you’re not the only one who got it wrong. I did, too,” someone else remarked, their voice lowering conspiratorially. “Word from the Drakon Family is that they’re sticking strictly to the rules. No exceptions.”

That one statement spoke volumes, and everyone there understood precisely what it meant.

“I was even considering stepping in to lend a hand,” one of the older executives said with a feigned sense of regret, “but now, it seems all we can do is hope for the best for him.”

The other executive, a seasoned man with a sharp eye, nodded in agreement. “You’re not wrong,” he said, his voice measured.

Their gazes met, and in that silent exchange, an understanding passed between them–one that needed no further words.

Inside the detention center, Jane entered the room alongside the lawyer to meet with Oberon, the man who bore the brunt of the unfolding disaster.

“Mr. Whitewood, we’ve already spoken with Jason,” Jane began, his expression heavy as he shook his head at Oberon.

Before their arrival, Oberon had already noticed a stark change in the demeanor of those around him. Where once there had been polite smiles and cordial words, there was now only cold indifference. Faces that had once been accommodating were now inscrutable masks.

Turning his gaze to the lawyer, Oberon remained silent.

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“Mr. Whitewood,” the lawyer began carefully, his tone measured, “the case is essentially closed. The public impact has been monumental, and the odds of a favorable outcome are next to none. As the head of the company, you are obligated to bear responsibility for the actions of

subordinates—their misuse of authority and their failure to disclose critical matters. While you do bear responsibility as the company’s leader, your role in this is secondary.”

your

The subtle emphasis in the lawyer’s words hinted at the path of least resistance–the most pragmatic way for Oberon to navigate this ordeal.

Oberon nodded slowly. “Understood. Once you identify the offenders, ensure they’re dealt with harshly. I don’t care who they are.”

Jane gave a firm nod, signaling her understanding.

Within forty–eight hours, Whitewood Group announced that a senior executive would be held accountable, effectively offering a scapegoat to the public. Yet, even with this sacrificial gesture, the company found itself drowning in financial losses.

The highly coveted harbor zone property was transferred to the Archaeology Department, and its excavation now a matter of state interest. Whitewood Group would regain access to the land only after the completion of the archaeological work.

Though the title to the property remained with Whitewood Group, the waiting period and any associated costs were deemed outside the government’s concern. After all, the company’s actions had sparked suspicion and outrage. Who in their right mind would expect compensation after such a scandal?

Days later, Oberon walked out of the detention center. His once–stately frame was noticeably thinner, his face etched with exhaustion. The toll of his confinement was evident in every line and shadow on his features.

The family had gathered early that day, waiting anxiously for his return.

As soon as he stepped outside, they hurried to meet him.

“Dad, are you okay?” Linara asked, her voice brimming with concern.

“Are you all right, Dad?” Aidan echoed, his brow furrowed with

worry.

Seraphina interjected, her tone calm yet firm, “Let’s head home. This isn’t the place to talk.”

Oberon’s eyes swept over the three of them, lingering for a moment on each face. During his time in the detention center, he had held onto a sliver of hope that Aidan might step up, take charge, or at least offer some semblance of support. Instead, his son had only managed to complicate matters.

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Seraphina–the one he had always held in the highest regard–had proved utterly useless in the critical moment.

All three of them had let him down, but it was Chloe who had stung him with the deepest disappointment.

“Let’s go,” Oberon said tersely, his voice low and his expression unreadable.

Back at the Whitewood Residence, the change in Oberon was palpable.

He had grown quiet, almost unnervingly so, his emotions concealed behind an enigmatic facade. The household, sensing his shift, tiptoed around him with an almost oppressive caution.

In the study, the atmosphere was heavy. A single sheet of white paper sat in stark contrast to the black surface of the desk.

Boldly written across the center were two names: Seraphina Whitewood and Linara Whitewood.

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