Out of the Shadows: Tilda’s Brilliant Second Life

Chapter 85 The Price of Pride

Andy’s words were so clear that even Russell couldn’t pretend not to understand.

If he tried to bribe Andy in front of Tilda and Andy shot him down, she’d use it against him. The truth about why he was here could never be spoken aloud. But if he said nothing, then this was it. His last chance would slip away. Once they hit the courtroom, against Andy, defeat was guaranteed. Andy’s reputation was terrifying for a reason.

He said evenly, “Mr. Jenson, you’re the chairman of Jenson Group, one of the biggest names in Slosa. Surely you’re not senile enough to hand us leverage on a silver platter. And by the way, barging into someone’s suite without permission? Under Section 192, that’s trespassing. Technically, we could call the police right now and demand a formal apology. So, how exactly do you plan on fixing this?”

Tilda chimed right in, playing off him like they had rehearsed it. The two of them in sync only made Russell’s face grow darker, uglier by the second.

“Tilda… that’s enough.”

Howard’s hands balled into fists. He had known the moment they stepped inside they’d be targets for her barbs, but this was too much. No matter what had happened, Russell was still her father, the man who had given her life. And this was how she repaid him? It was inhuman.

“Howard, don’t,” Russell cut him off.

He might have been cornered, but he was still the chairman who had weathered decades of storms. Clear-headed now, he wasn’t as reckless as he’d been in their earlier encounters. He stopped Howard before he made it worse.

Howard finally shut his mouth, though the anger still burned in his eyes.

“Mr. Jenson, why won’t you let Howard speak? What he just said–wasn’t that always your favorite line to throw at me back in the day?”

Tilda leaned back on the couch, lounging comfortably with her chin propped in one hand. Her gaze was flat and unshaken, taking in both Russell and Howard without a ripple. Her voice was lazy, unhurried, carrying the calm of a cat toying with its prey.

Russell drew in a long breath, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

He finally muttered, “...I’m sorry.”

The apology slipped out so suddenly that Howard stared at Russell in disbelief, convinced he must have misheard.

“Andy, did you hear that?” Tilda tilted her head, feigning confusion. “Sounded like somebody just farted.”

Andy smirked and tapped her nose. “No, Tilly. That was Mr. Jenson talking. But he said it so softly, I couldn’t quite make it out.”

“You-!”

Howard’s whole body trembled with rage. The humiliation was unbearable. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He was about to explode.

“I said I’m sorry. Isn’t that enough, Tilda?”

Russell’s voice rose in a low growl, his eyes burning with fury as he glared at her.

“I know I was wrong. That day, I misunderstood you–and I hurt your classmate. I’ll go to her myself, apologize in person, and pay whatever compensation she deserves. I won’t run from it. You wanted an apology—I’ve given it to you. So can we end this already? Or do you really want the whole world to watch our family’s humiliation–your humiliation as much as mine?”

Never in his life had Russell been forced this low. Never had he bowed his head to anyone like this. Even with rage boiling in his chest, he had no choice but to swallow it. Every ounce of pride, every bit of hatred–he swallowed it all. The shame was unbearable. And the cruelest part? The person who had driven him here was Tilda–his own daughter. The child he never thought would have the power to make him kneel in spirit, to strip him of every last defense. Faced with the choice between protecting the Jensons’ honor and clinging to his own dignity, Russell chose the family. Always the family.

As head of the family, Russell wasn’t just defending his own pride. He was protecting the family’s pride. For years, he had built their legacy like a fortress where the Jensons’ name could shine and where his children could find shelter. He would never allow Tilda to tear it all down.

“Dad…”

Howard’s voice cracked with disbelief. He stared at Russell, stunned. Never in his life had he expected to see Russell submit to Tilda. In his memory, his father had never yielded to anyone, except Blair.

Stubborn, proud, unbending–that was Russell. Even when he lowered himself to appease his wife, it wasn’t a humiliation; it was a show of devotion. For her, for the woman he loved, he would do anything. That was no weakness; that was his creed as a man. It was a belief that had shaped the Jensons from the very beginning, leaving its mark on every child who grew up under that roof.

At that moment, a surge of emotion rose in Howard’s chest, sharp and overwhelming. God knew what it cost his father to stand there, forced to apologize to his own daughter in front of his son. How much pride did he have to bury? How much dignity did he have to throw at the feet of the very person he had once dismissed, only to let her trample on it and grind it to dust? All for one reason—to shield the Jensons, and to keep his children from the sting of gossip and the weight of scandal.