During dinner, she served silently, tears slipping no matter how she tried to stop them. Victor finally frowned.
“Mrs. Rourke… why are you crying? And why are you dressed in mourning?”
Liana hesitated, then whispered, “My mother passed away today.”
Victor froze. His eyes drifted to the antique pendant on her wrist—engraved with a phoenix and two keys. His voice dropped.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was my mother’s. She told me never to take it off.”
Victor grew pale.
“Mariel… Mariel Crow? That was my sister. She disappeared thirty years ago.”
The room tightened. Damian forced a smile.
“Mr. Langford, ignore her. She’s emotional. We didn’t want to cancel—”
Victor slammed his cane on the floor.
“You forced your grieving wife to host a dinner on the day her mother—my sister—died?”
Damian stiffened. “She agreed—”
“She agreed because you gave her no choice,” Victor snapped.
He turned gently to Liana.
“Mariel ran from our abusive father to protect herself… and you.”
Then he faced Damian again, voice sharp.
“You bragged at work about your perfect marriage and supportive wife. Lies. All of it.”
Damian’s jaw clenched. “This has nothing to do with my promotion.”