The Harvey family was in chaos once again.
“Charles, didn’t you say you’d take care of this? That bastard child of that woman is living under our roof now!” Rosalind was beside herself with rage.
Charles wrapped his arms around his wife, his voice soft and placating as he tried to explain. “Please, darling, calm down. She’s my blood, after all. I’ve managed to officially register her as my adopted daughter, but if anyone looks too closely, they’ll find out the truth. Her mother’s still in the hospital, in a coma. If this mess gets out, do you really want the world calling your husband heartless and cruel? Things have finally settled—if we stir things up again, who knows what will happen?”
Rosalind snapped, “So what, are you planning to pay for that woman’s treatment now?”
“Of course not!” Charles soothed, holding her close. “That woman’s days are numbered, karma’s already caught up to her. For now, we just keep her daughter pacified. Once that woman’s gone, we’ll find an excuse to throw the brat out, simple as that.”
“Are you serious?” Rosalind eyed him suspiciously.
“Absolutely. The Harvey Group belongs to both of us. I’d never use your money, our money, to pay for someone like her. I wouldn’t do anything to threaten our family’s happiness.”
Rosalind’s anger finally ebbed. She gave his shoulder a half-hearted punch and let the matter drop.
Charles, arms still around his wife, let out a quiet sigh of relief, though his eyes remained cold and calculating.
...
The Harvey family dining room.
It was lunchtime, a rare occasion when all three of them were home together. Charlotte, looking effortlessly elegant, descended from her room and entered the dining room.
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