Beatrice froze where she stood. Every joint in her frail body suddenly locked tight as her eyes stared straight at Celine's face.
Inside her mind, which was beginning to lose its sanity, a flash of the past suddenly spun wildly like a broken, torturous tape. However, instead of guilt, it was the poison of self-justification that crept up and filled her mind. Within her manipulative memory, Beatrice felt that she was the true victim. She recalled how her three years of marriage to Mark had been filled with endless worry over preserving the Valerius family's reputation from the stain of Seren's orphaned status. To Beatrice, Seren's presence in her main home was nothing more than a parasitic leech draining their wealth, constantly wounding her family's pride.
"I've gone to such lengths to protect this family's honor from you…" Beatrice whispered hoarsely, her breath growing ragged as the adrenaline of vengeance and panic mingled in her blood.
