Claire rushed home and headed straight for Brad's room. She approached the bed and saw him sleeping peacefully. A quiet sigh of relief escaped her lips. Just as she turned to leave, a sudden thought rooted her in place—Brad might not be her real brother.
Silent sobs broke free from her lips as memories flooded her mind. The countless beatings she had endured because of him. The punishments are disguised as training. Every time Brad made a mistake, it was always her who suffered the consequences.
"You don't serve as an example to your brother," Olivia would scold before delivering another round of discipline.
"This is to make you better and stronger," she would say afterward as if pain could mold her into something greater.
Cecelia had always laughed whenever she was punished. Now, Claire understood why Olivia never raised her voice at Cecelia or Brad, why they were showered with praise for even the smallest achievements. The favoritism had always been clear—she had just been too desperate for love to see it.
So many times, she had run to her father for help, only to hear the same cold response:
"Listen to your mother. She knows what's best for you."
Then, suddenly, Sebastian's words echoed in her mind, bringing a fresh wave of clarity. Claire suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to talk to him. There were so many questions swirling in her mind, questions only he seemed to have the answers to. Her silent sobs gradually turned into audible cries, nto laughter. She didn't even know who she was anymore. The sound startled Grad awake.
"Sister, are you crying because of me?" His voice was laced with guilt. "I'm sorry I put you in trouble again."
Grad kept apologizing, but Claire didn't respond. Instead, she turned away abruptly and stormed back to her room, shutting the door behind her.
It was already 10 a.m.—far later than she had realized and she was already late for work. Still shaken, she hurriedly got ready. Later, Grad's bodyguard informed her that the accident had only been a minor incident. The incoming vehicle had suffered brake failure and collided with their car, but thankfully, no one was seriously hurt.
Relieved yet still unsettled, Claire got into her car. Her driver was already waiting and swiftly drove her to work. But once she arrived, she found it impossible to concentrate. The weight of past events pressed down on her, suffocating her thoughts. No matter how much she tried to distract herself, her mind kept drifting back to the turmoil in her life. Eventually, she decided to leave work early.
It had only been three hours, and Claire was already back in the car. Her driver, not expecting her to return so soon, had already left. With no other choice, she slid into the driver's seat and decided to head to a supermarket to indulge in a little retail therapy.
Shopping for clothes had always been her escape. Whenever she needed a break, she spent money on fashion—it was her way of relieving stress. She was obsessed with dressing up, ensuring she had a fresh wardrobe at every opportunity. Over the years, Claire has won multiple awards for being the "Customer of the Year" at several high-end clothing brands, a testament to her shopping habits.
As soon as she stepped into the supermarket, all the store attendants immediately stopped what they were doing to rush to her side.
"Where are all the shop attendants?" a frustrated customer asked, scanning the now-empty counters.
"Don't you know? Miss Harry is here to shop again," a male customer replied with a knowing smirk.
"Ugh, we're all rich, but Miss Harry is just too demanding," another customer scoffed.
"She only shops once in a blue moon." another woman said.
"She can spend in a single day what most of us would spend in a month."
"Try winning 'Best Customer' for three consecutive years, and maybe you'll get this level of attention."
Claire paid no mind to their whispers and went on with her spree, buying until she felt satisfied. Once she was done, she simply paid for her purchases and left, her expression unreadable.
As she checked the time, she realized it was best to return to work. Upon entering her office, she was met with an unexpected sight—Olivia was already waiting for her inside.
"You're not even the CEO yet, and you're already skipping work hours?" Olivia's voice was sharp with disapproval. "Claire, tell me, did I fail as a mother to teach you responsibility? What kind of example are you setting for your siblings?" She let out an exasperated sigh before adding coldly, "I've told you before—stay away from my children. I won't let any tragedy befall them because of you."
With that, Olivia stormed out, leaving a tense silence in her wake.
Claire remained still, her expression void of emotion. She was long past feeling hurt by Olivia's words. Instead of dwelling on it, she pushed the encounter aside, focusing on her work. Her mind, however, drifted elsewhere—she was already planning her next visit to see Sebastian.
She looked up and signed, what a bad day I had.
***
At the Obsidian Arena, Sebastian sat across from an elderly man who appeared to be in his eighties. The old man spoke with a firm, almost urgent tone. However, Sebastian leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression one of sheer disinterest.
"Sebastian, you monkey! Listen to your grandpa," the old man huffed, tapping his cane against the ground for emphasis. "You have to marry one of Harry's daughters."