In truth, she wasn't the one who got hurt—it was the thugs. If it hadn't been for the mysterious man who showed up beside her—and his razor-sharp lawyer—she and that man might've been the ones facing assault charges instead. Thinking back on the state those thugs were left in, the officer still shuddered. Even after years on the force, he'd never seen anything like it. They'd been destroyed. Whoever had done it was merciless. Of course, that merciless one was Sterling. Everyone assumed he was the one who'd fought. Claudia? That quiet, delicate, pretty girl? No one believed she could do something that brutal. And Sterling hadn't corrected them. But the officer, catching on to the family's misunderstanding, couldn't resist twisting the knife. "She was in bad shape when we brought her in—covered in blood, head cut, arm busted up. She was shaking so bad she could barely talk. Who wouldn't be, surrounded by a gang of thugs at midnight? No one came for her. She just sat there in the corner, quiet, answered every question, polite as could be. Pitiful sight, really." He went on, "When we told her to call someone, she tried a few numbers. No one picked up. Said she lived alone. In the end, that stranger's lawyer bailed her out. We thought she was an orphan—didn't want to reopen old wounds. But she's got a family? Then why didn't any of you show up last night?" The question was simple—but it landed like a slap. Every Lancaster in the room flushed red. They'd all assumed Claudia was throwing a tantrum after the failed proposal. And with Lydia's health being fragile, none of them had the patience to deal with her. So, without a word, they'd all done the same thing—turned off their phones.Jasper remembered the call. He remembered her voice, trembling as she said someone was following her—begging him to come. And he'd brushed her off. Told her not to make trouble. How terrified must she have been, calling him over and over, while he ignored her? He thought about the promise they'd made years ago: always pick up, no matter what. He was the one who broke it. A sharp pain clenched his chest, like a hand squeezing his heart. Wilson stayed silent for a long time. Then, quietly, "Tell Claudia to come home for dinner tonight. Make her favorites." Zane, who'd thought this was just another one of Claudia's stunts, shifted awkwardly, his voice rough. "Did they at least catch those bastards?" The officer nodded. Clarence's face hardened. “Good. Make sure they're punished to the fullest extent. And the man who helped my sister last night—do you have his contact info? We should thank him properly." He was already thinking of sending money, a polite payoff for their absence. The others murmured in agreement. … While the Lancaster family bombarded the officer with questions, the so-called good Samaritan—Sterling himself—was flipping through Claudia's entire file. His long fingers moved lazily over the thick folder, dark eyes calm and unreadable. Claudia's life fell neatly into three acts. Before six, she'd been the Lancaster family's little princess—spoiled, adored, full of laughter. After six, once the Lancasters adopted Lydia, Claudia disappeared into silence. She became a shadow, no longer the heiress but a ghost haunting the edges of her own home. She did whatever Lydia wanted—obedient, hollow-eyed, like a puppet with its strings tangled. Then, at seventeen, something shifted. Claudia changed. She grew sharp, defiant, hostile—every move aimed squarely at Lydia. Her relationship with the family crumbled, and after college, she left the Lancaster house for good. Clint finished his report with a sigh. "The Lancaster sisters couldn't be more different. The older one—gentle, talented, loved by everyone. The younger—arrogant, spiteful, useless." Sterling leaned back in his chair, expression barely changing. His lips curved faintly. “Pathetic.” No one knew who he meant. Clint kept his gaze low and his mouth shut. The Romero family was half the power of Liberty City. Sterling—its heir apparent—could tilt the sky with a flick of his hand. If he passed judgment on someone, their fate was sealed. So why, then, had the golden boy suddenly taken an interest in a woman? Surely not that kind of interest. The thought was absurd. He almost laughed at himself for thinking it. Still… with the Reaper's eyes on her, that girl's luck couldn't be good. As Clint's mind wandered, Sterling's gaze drifted back to a section in the file—Claudia's sixth year. Lydia's mother, Zoey Wallace, and Claudia's mother, Lottie, were sisters. Zoey had been meant to marry Wilson first—but somehow, he'd chosen Lottie instead. Lottie's marriage had been happy—two sons and a daughter. Zoey, on the other hand, had married a gambler and an abuser. With help from her sister and brother-in-law, she eventually escaped, raising her frail, premature daughter—Lydia—alone. Then tragedy struck. On Claudia's sixth birthday, Zoey came to the Lancaster house to celebrate—but died in a car crash while searching for Claudia, who had run away after a fight with the family. From then on, Lydia was half an orphan. Racked with guilt, the Lancasters adopted her. To make amends, they treated her even better than their own daughter. And Lydia thrived. She charmed everyone—so much that even Claudia's brothers preferred the adopted sister over her. Sterling's eyes lingered on a photo of little Claudia—round cheeks, a sunshine-bright smile. Then his gaze slid to the next one: teenage Claudia, quiet and withdrawn, eyes full of shadow. He rubbed his forehead absently. The spot she'd headbutted last night was still sore. He remembered that look in her eyes—wild, feral. Yes. Much better that way. Her defiance—the very thing her family despised—was what made her interesting. To the Lancasters, her rebellion was a flaw. To him, it was a spark. Claudia bore the weight of her so-called sins and still refused to bow. She stood up to her sister, to her family's gaslighting, to every chain they'd wrapped around her. Her resilience was… promising. Sterling's voice was low, almost amused. "What do you think? If we dropped her into the Romero family, would she turn the whole place upside down?" It sounded like a throwaway comment, just idle curiosity.But Clint—the unflappable, almost robotic Clint—snapped his head up, eyes wide with shock.