"You can keep your wealth to yourself, Madam Fiona. My daughter will survive just fine by my side without having to live on other people's crumbs," Valessia seethed, her voice quivering with rage.
She didn't care that her words came out unfiltered, harsh, or disrespectful. Not after what this woman had done, sneaking behind her back to take her daughter and put on this twisted display of affection.
All for what?
To mock her for being poor? To parade her wealth and superiority while humiliating her?
Valessia could endure humiliation. She had swallowed cruelty like medicine and endured slander like it was a daily chore but no one, absolutely no one, touched her daughter and expected her silence.
Never.
"How dare you speak to my mother like that?" the tall man across the table thundered, shoving back his chair as he shot to his feet.
