Chapter 678:

Arms crossed over her chest, her mother stared daggers at Claire and asked in a low voice, “Was it that Thea girl who told you?”

After a few moments of heavy silence, Claire reluctantly nodded. “We’re good friends, so Thea mentioned Elyse.”

“And she conveniently left out the part about Felicia’s plans to distribute her shares and properties? Elyse probably only came back to compete with Thea for a piece of the pie. Do you really think Thea told you about Elyse just out of friendship?” Claire’s mother was exasperated.

As a lady from elite circles, she had witnessed countless schemes and deceptions, shielding Claire from them all. But now, Claire was so sheltered she couldn’t see she was being manipulated.

Claire scratched her head, utterly bewildered.

Looking at Claire’s big, doe-like eyes, her mother’s anger gave way to deep frustration. Claire was her daughter, after all. She couldn’t abandon her.

With a sigh, she said irritably, “Go home. And stay away from Thea for a while.”

Meanwhile, back inside the Bensons’ estate, Elyse was shoved into a pitch-black room by a stern-faced maid. She stumbled forward, crashing onto the cold, hard floor.

The maid, without a word, promptly shut the door, the sound echoing through the darkened space.

In the blink of an eye, Elyse was plunged into darkness. But she wasn’t scared; she was no stranger to cramped, pitch-black spaces, having been confined to such rooms countless times by Lanny.

Instead of terror, a strange sense of calm enveloped her. The injury on her back, however, pulsed agonizingly. She fumbled her way to the wall, her fingertips brushing the cold, rough surface, and slumped against it, exhaustion quickly dragging her into a restless slumber.

She had no sense of time in the darkness. Minutes, hours, perhaps even days could have slipped by unnoticed until a heated argument outside the door roused her from her sleep.

Groggily, she forced her eyes open just as a tall, imposing figure burst through the door, spilling light into the room.

“My dear niece, I’m here. Don’t be afraid,” said a calm, reassuring voice.

The man was Pearce’s father, Brian Benson.

Elyse blinked, trying to clear her foggy mind. Pearce had set up a video call for her to meet his father, and now, seeing Brian, she felt a flicker of hope.

She struggled to rise and greet him, but her body betrayed her, sapped of strength. Weakly, she raised her hand and rasped, “Uncle Brian, I don’t feel so good.”

Brian had just returned from an out-of-town trip. As soon as he arrived, he overheard the maids gossiping about Elyse being locked up, so he rushed to the basement. Elyse was, after all, his brother’s only child; in his eyes, Felicia’s punishment was too harsh.

Brian barged into the basement, the sight of his niece igniting a primal, protective anger. He knelt beside her, his hand pressing gently against her burning forehead. “Do you have a fever?” he asked, concern etching deep lines into his face.

Elyse leaned against the wall, her body trembling slightly as her eyes grew unfocused. “I don’t know. I just feel a bit cold.”

Brian couldn’t stand to see her so fragile and weak. Without hesitation, he scooped her up and bolted for the door.

Just then, Thea appeared, blocking his way. Her eyes flashed with resolve. . . .