Once a towering symbol of affluence and wealth, the Dawson family had crumbled under Leland's reckless gambit.
Before Freya stood her 18-year-old renegade so-called brother, a blaze of fury in her eyes as she lifted her hand and delivered a resounding slap.
The strike sent Leland reeling with disbelief etched across his face. "You, you hit me?"
The Freya Leland knew was gentle, her voice always laced with a softness, making her an easy target. Yet she stood her ground, her hand still stinging from the contact.
Freya fumed. "Damn right, I hit you! What gave you the audacity to barge into my room?"
"Ms. Dawson, I'm so sorry! It was my fault for not stopping Mr. Dawson!" The maid quivered near the doorway, her voice trembling with fear.
"Shut your mouth! This is my house. I go where I please!" Leland's outburst sent the maid reeling, her body shaking like a leaf in a storm.
A glance at the maid's bruised arms was all Freya needed to understand the depth of Leland's tyranny in the Dawson family.
Her heart had been too entangled with Kieran to see the chaos Johanna and her son had wrought upon their home.
"This house? The Dawson family is hardly yours to claim, Leland." Freya approached the maid, her movements gentle as she helped her to her feet. The marks of abuse were evident, a silent testament to her suffering.
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