Arthur Brightwood, his face a mixture of profound shock and wrenching betrayal, finally found his voice. He spun on Cassandra, his eyes burning.
“You knew,” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, “you knew she was my daughter, didn’t you?”
Cassandra’s head snapped up. “No! How could I? I just… I saw the child. I saw the table! It was a disrespectful display!” She tried to deflect, to find any excuse.
“Disrespectful?” Arthur snarled, his composure completely gone. “You pushed a three-year-old child! My child! You tried to push Elara out of the company, you sabotaged her work, all to secure your position!”
A heated, public argument erupted, every word a dagger. Arthur accused Cassandra of malicious intent, of cold-hearted cruelty, of deceiving him about her true nature.
“You manipulate everyone!” he roared, pointing at her. “You thought you could just sweep everything under the rug, control the company, control *me*!”
Cassandra, backed into a corner, clawed desperately for an explanation. “I was protecting you! Protecting our future! She was a threat!”
The board members watched in stunned silence as the very foundation of Arthur and Cassandra’s engagement, already cracked by her actions, shattered beyond repair. His trust, his respect, his love—all of it was gone.
The woman he was to marry stood exposed as a ruthless, manipulative villain.
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