Chapter 4

Margaret laid down the law with a voice that echoed through the room.

Luke and Ryan, standing nearby, couldn't believe their ears.

They'd been with Raymond for ages, and no one had ever dared to give him an ultimatum. It was a miracle he even offered a choice.

The vibe at the entrance was tense and oppressive, and everyone was too scared to even breathe loudly.

The bodyguards did their best to melt into the shadows.

After what felt like forever, Raymond sneered, "Margaret, do you even know what you're saying?"

Margaret didn't flinch, her face set. "Are you having trouble understanding?"

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Everyone held their breath, and even Wesley felt the pressure.

Raymond's eyes roamed over Margaret, sizing her up.

After four years, she was a different person. Her eyes, once darting and unsure, were now clear and determined. She no longer spoke softly and self-deprecatingly when she called him 'Mr. Seymour'. Now, her tone was cold and indifferent.

Raymond felt a strange irritation and replied icily, "She's my daughter too. Even if you call the cops, they'll just see it as a family issue."

There wasn't a formal DNA test yet, but Raymond had already accepted Liberty as his daughter.

Margaret raised an eyebrow and asked mockingly, "Who said that?"

Raymond was taken aback, momentarily thrown off.

Margaret stepped closer, locking eyes with him. "Who said she's your daughter? Mr. Seymour, have you lost your edge? Weren't you the paranoid type who never listened to explanations?"

Her words took Raymond back to that morning four years ago.

He hadn't given Margaret a chance to explain, accusing her of seducing him and leaving her out in the rain.

Margaret didn't let up, pressing closer. "The security at Seymour Villa is so lax a kid can break in. And you believe whatever she says? Does that mean anyone claiming to be your relative can just waltz in? Mr. Seymour, you're too easy to fool."

Her last words were light but dripping with sarcasm.

She seemed calm, but her hands were trembling slightly.

Negotiation and pleading wouldn't work with Raymond, so she had to take a risky approach to provoke him.

Sure enough, Raymond's eyes darkened, and his voice turned cold. "Margaret."

Margaret swallowed nervously, feeling like she was walking a tightrope, unsure of Raymond's next move.

The tension was palpable. Wesley shifted slightly, ready to protect her.

"Mommy!" Liberty's innocent, joyful voice shattered the tension.

Luke, Ryan, and the others let out a collective sigh of relief.

Liberty, like a little deer, suddenly jumped into Margaret's arms.

Margaret instinctively hugged her, relieved to confirm she was safe.

Liberty nuzzled her neck, speaking softly with a hint of guilt, "Mommy, you got here so fast!"

Margaret's expression turned serious as she pulled Liberty out of her embrace and sternly asked, "Why did you run off so far by yourself?"

"I wanted to find Daddy," Liberty said, looking up at Margaret with big, pitiful eyes, tugging at her collar. "Mommy, can we stay? Daddy's house has so many yummy things, and there are brownies! They're the best I've ever had!"

Margaret's body stiffened.

Brownies were her favorite dessert, and Liberty had inherited that love.

But Raymond hated them, always saying they were too sweet.

Actually, no one in the Seymour family liked them.

But why did the Seymour Villa always have them around?

Margaret didn't have time to ponder this and told Liberty seriously, "He's not your daddy."

Liberty looked stunned, like she'd just been hit with a ton of bricks. "How could he not be? I did so much research. I thought I finally wasn't a bastard."

Her bright eyes filled with tears, and her voice cracked with sobs.

But Margaret caught the key word. "A bastard? Who told you that?"

After Liberty was born, Margaret worked her butt off every day to give her a better life, while also trying to spend as much time as possible with her.

Liberty was a sensitive and sweet girl, going to school without fuss, taking care of herself, and even learning some massage techniques to help Margaret relax when she was tired.

Margaret had forgotten that Liberty was just a little over three years old, with only a vague understanding of family relationships. She had always avoided the topic of a father, leaving Liberty with no way to understand the correct family concept.

Now, finding out that Liberty had been called such a cruel name behind her back broke Margaret's heart.

Liberty whimpered softly, burying her face in Margaret's neck, feeling very wronged.

Raymond, seeing this, asked, "Do you still want to say she's not my daughter?"

Liberty, who had been crying, secretly peeked at Margaret's reaction.

Margaret, despite her heartache, stayed firm. "Does it matter if she's your daughter?"

Then she looked down, speaking gently to Liberty, "Liberty, it's my fault for not telling you about this. I'll tell you about your daddy when we get back, okay?"

It sounded like Liberty's father really wasn't Raymond.

Raymond felt a pang of doubt. 'Can Liberty really not be my child? Then who is Liberty's dad?'

His gaze shifted to Wesley.

Wesley, catching his look, calmly stared back, which Raymond took as a challenge.

He then dismissed his doubt. 'No, impossible. Margaret had been in the Seymour Villa since she was six, eating and living with me. I know everyone Margaret had contact with.'

He stared at Margaret grimly. "You've already let Liberty live three years without a father. Do you plan to continue her fatherless life?"

Margaret sneered, her eyes cold. "I'll say it again, this is a private matter between Liberty and me. It has nothing to do with you. Besides, I hope you won't make unnecessary entanglements."

She turned to leave with Liberty, but Liberty suddenly reminded her softly, "Mommy, my suitcase is still inside."

Margaret squinted, seeing through Liberty's thoughts. "Liberty, I know what you're trying to do."

Liberty had to keep quiet.

Margaret then spoke to Raymond, "Mr. Seymour, please have someone bring out Liberty's suitcase. You wouldn't even keep her suitcase, would you?"

Raymond felt speechless and gave Luke a look.

A few minutes later, Luke personally handed the small suitcase to Margaret, his expression complicated.

Margaret showed a hint of warmth only to Luke. "Thank you, Luke."

Wesley took the suitcase and put it in the car, then opened the car door for Margaret, moving smoothly and efficiently.

Margaret didn't refuse his help, getting into the car and giving Raymond a deep look. "Mr. Seymour, I don't want to see anyone bothering Liberty."

The car's taillights lit up and then faded into the distance.