*He is still my heir. As long as you behave yourself from now on, I will pretend today never happened.*
The messages sank like stones into a deep, dark sea.
No reply.
Joel walked into the villa, frowning as he caught two nannies gossiping near the driveway.
"Why does that milk powder look so much like... ash?" one whispered.
"And look at this." The other held up tattered pieces of paper. "I pieced the photo back together. Guess who it is? It's the Young Master's memorial photo!"
Joel froze.
He grabbed the nanny's arm, his voice rising in pitch. "What memorial photo?"
