In the parlor, Albert stood straight, refusing to sit even after the maid invited him several times. His men remained behind him, standing just as rigid as their boss.
Victor stood firmly at his left side.
Their heads turned at the sound of Rosalba's footsteps as she descended the stairs.
Albert's eyes darkened when they settled on her calm expression. Yet her face looked more lined than before, as if her body had been worn down by the immense stress she'd endured since the last time they met.
She smiled and greeted them. "Why don't you sit down, Albert?"
Albert clenched his fist.
"I'm not here for a visit. I'm here to take your daughter with me."
"Pardon me, Albert." Rosalba frowned, feigning confusion, as if she had misheard.
"Don't pretend you know nothing about your daughter's wrongdoing."
Rosalba released a quiet sigh. "What is this about? What has my daughter done wrong?"
