There was a pause on the other end. Then the housekeeper spoke carefully. “No, sir. Ma’am Zareena hasn’t said a word in the past three days. Sh-She hasn’t even touched the food I’ve been leaving outside her door.”
Hearing that, I let out a low scoff. A faint, mocking smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. “Tch. Just sulking. Of course she is.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, pacing a few steps as the irritation rose again.
“I made it clear from the beginning,” I muttered, more to myself than the housekeeper. “Whoever gives birth to my first child, that child becomes my heir. She couldn’t do it. Instead, she kept pulling games. Pretending to be the victim. Trying to manipulate me!”
My voice tightened as I went on, old resentment flaring. “Then she had the nerve to team up with my own mother to steal the baby from Shannah. And I still didn’t punish her. I let it go. Heck, I’ve already been more than fair!”
I heaved a sigh. “And now she thinks she can guilt-trip me by starving herself?”
For a moment, I fell silent. Unbidden, the image of her father crashing to the ground replayed in my mind.
Another sigh slipped from my lips—slower this time, heavier.