He had always thought he understood Iris best. To him, she was obedient and gentle, always yielding to his demands without a single complaint.
But today, she was like a completely different person.
The tears that had been endlessly streaming down Esther’s face suddenly stopped. She stared blankly at Iris, unable to believe what she had just heard.
Iris glanced at the two of them, let out a cold laugh, and said, "If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going to bed."
"Iris..."
For some reason, an uneasy feeling crept into Wendel’s heart.
He reached out and grabbed her hand, pressing his lips together before saying, "I know I was wrong to accuse you just now, but we’re all family. The way you talk is just too harsh."
Iris pulled her hand away indifferently and asked coldly, "What do you mean? Are you trying to make me apologize a second time?"
Hearing her words, Wendel felt a sharp, piercing pain in his chest.
He had known for a long time that Iris had feelings for him—feelings that were different from simple affection.
But he had never loved her. Let alone wanted to marry her.
Yet she had always been so obedient, so easy to control, never resisting, never questioning him.
Until now.