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"I said I don't care, Mother. I don’t care about them, I don’t care about the estate, I don’t care about the gossiping fools who fill their mouths with our name or whatever scandal they can think up. Let them all think what they want. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Not anymore."

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard in the room was the crackling of the fire in the hearth.

Helen could barely recognize her son. This was not the Anthony she knew. This was someone else, someone cold, someone... defeated.

"What has happened to you?" she asked quietly as she walked closer to him, her anger fading, replaced now with something closer to sorrow.

Or fear

His eyes narrowed on her before he crossed the room in two large strides. Without a word, he snatched up a piece of paper from his desk and flung it toward his mother. It fluttered through the air, landing at her feet.

"That is what Victoria left for me," he said coldly, his voice strained with barely concealed fury. "Read it, and then tell me again how any of this matters."

Helen stared at the letter for a moment, her breath caught in her throat before she slowly bent down to retrieve the paper.

My Dearest Anthony,

I write this with a heart heavy with sorrow and regret. I can no longer bear the weight of this marriage, nor the expectations that come with it. I have tried, I have tried with all that I am, but I find that my heart cannot rest in this union. I cannot love you as you deserve, for my soul is burdened by our reality.

I know not whether it was fate or my own weakness that led me to this path, but I must leave. I thought I could endure this marriage on my sister’s behalf but I cannot bring myself to any longer. She is soon to be happily wed and I mut be free of this farce. I must leave for my sake to a place far from the life we have shared. Please do not seek me, for you will not find me. I will not return. This is the only way I can find peace, though it tears me apart to say these words. I cannot remain with you, Anthony. I cannot.

I hope, in time, you will understand why I must do this. You deserve more than what I can offer you, more than the hollow love I have tried to give.

Yours,

Victoria

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.

Helen’s eyes scanned the words again, her lips pressing into a tight line as she folded the letter back neatly. She looked up at her son, her expression a mix of pity and frustration.

"Well?" Anthony demanded, his voice breaking the stillness. "Say something. You’ve read it. You’ve seen the truth. She’s gone, Mother. She’s left me, and there’s nothing to be done."

"A fool," she muttered, shaking her head. "You’re a fool, Anthony."

His eyes widened in disbelief.

"What?" he snapped, anger bubbling to the surface. "Did you not just read what she wrote? You call me a fool after seeing this? After knowing she has abandoned me?"

"Yes," Helen said firmly, her voice unyielding. "A fool, and a blind one at that."

Anthony recoiled, incredulous. "How can you say that? She said it herself—she’s leaving. She doesn’t love me. She’s run away, and she made it perfectly clear that she has no intention of returning."

She stepped forward, thrusting the letter toward him.

"Do you truly believe this? Do you think a woman who has fought for you, who has endured all that I have put her through, would simply leave because she could not find love in you? Do you not see the absurdity of that?"

He blinked, startled by the vehemence in her words. "What are you talking about?"

Helene’s face hardened, her tone cutting like a knife. "Since the moment you became betrothed to her, since the very day you married her, I have watched her closely. I have tried to keep her in her place, to ensure she understood the weight of her position, the demands that come with being a Devlin’s wife. And yet, through it all, through all the ways I sought to put her down, to frustrate her, she clung to you."

"What are you saying? Speak plainly."

"I am saying," she said, her voice rising, "that this is not a woman who would simply give up. Victoria did not run from you because she could not love you. She loves you, Anthony. No woman fights the way she has, endures the scorn I have given her, unless her heart belongs to the man she stands beside. That letter is a lie. Something else is going on here, and if you weren't so expectant if the hate and rejection you would have seen it too."

Anthony stared at her, stunned, unable to form a response even as she took a step back, letting the weight of her words sink in. "Now, I suggest you think long and hard about that before you let this letter ruin what remains of your marriage."

He stood there, frozen in place as his mother’s words echoed in his mind.