“First, I want you to return the wedding gift my mother gave you.”
“You mean that worthless little pendant?”
Kylie frowned and pulled a dark pendant out of her bag.
My eyes trembled at the sight of it.
That was the very pendant my mother had tied around Kylie’s neck on her deathbed, entrusting her to love me, to hold on to our bond.
Kylie stared at it for a moment. A flicker of nostalgia flashed through her eyes.
But in the end, she only nodded and tossed it to the ground at my feet like it meant nothing.
I bent down, picked it up, and gently wiped the dust away.
Kylie’s voice rang out, filled with impatience. “What’s your other condition? Hurry up and say it.”
“The second condition is I want custody of Ariana,” I said firmly.
“That’s impossible. Ariana is my daughter,” Kylie snapped without hesitation.
“You still have the face to call her your daughter?”
I clenched my jaw, my fury spilling out in a near-roar.
“If you truly treated her like your own, would you stand there and watch her kneel before your assistant and your bastard son?”
Kylie’s expression turned cold.
With a sharp crack, she slapped me hard across the face.