Lydia stood at the entrance of the stairwell, looking at the man slumped on the sofa. She lifted her leg, wanting to go downstairs, wanting to go hug him, wanting to give Jorge a bit of warmth.
The leg she'd just lifted froze in midair.
She couldn't go down. Every man has his own pride; Jorge, this fragile, wouldn't want her to see him like this, would he.
Lydia stood at the stairwell, her eyes filled with aching tenderness.
At last, the man sitting on the sofa straightened up. Through the moonlight, Lydia could see the coldness on his face and feel the chill emanating from him.
Jorge Saxton sat on the sofa, sharpness flashing between his brows, carrying surging anger and hatred.
"Damien Morris, you think that just because you used your own daughter to rope in the Crown Prince of the Seys Family in City C, I can't do anything to you?"
"Keep dreaming! Damien Morris, I'm going to make you pay for everything! I'm going to make all of you pay the price for what you've done!!"
