Chapter 433

You weren’t the woman that night, were you?

Crystal’s face paled; she hadn't expected her father's resolute rejection. Her mother was in jail, her grandfather poisoned, and Charlotte terrified. She dared not associate with Jean, and now even her father couldn't help with her schemes. What was she to do?

“I’m going to see your mother now. Do you want to come?” Damien asked.

Prison? Crystal hastily withdrew her hand. “I don’t want to go. Mom did too many wrong things, even making me try to kill myself. She’s not my mother anymore.”

Damien’s gaze made Crystal’s scalp tingle. “Dad, did I say something wrong? I really didn’t do anything; it was Grandpa and Mom who instigated me.”

“I understand.” Damien left, disappearing with his butler.

The butler, noticing his employer's displeasure, whispered, “Sir, is the young lady too heartless? If she’d cried and begged for help, she’d seem innocent. But she avoids involvement, afraid of sullying herself. That speaks volumes.”

Damien pursed his lips. His butler of twenty years had perfectly articulated his thoughts. Crystal had acted like a clumsy fool. As a father, he bore responsibility. Years of neglect, leaving her at Paulo's, had warped her temperament. She was insignificant, envious, arrogant, and cowardly—nothing like a Robert. Olive’s bright eyes flashed in his memory. That girl was smart, calm, tough, and brave—more like a Robert.

Damien, a man of power, possessed a keen intuition. Olive’s sudden appearance felt unusual. He had his suspicions and would now seek evidence from Nora.

Nora’s imprisonment was a descent from grace to misery. She was working when someone shouted, “Number 49, a visitor.” Since her incarceration, no one—father, daughter, or nephew—had visited, leaving her despondent. Now, a visitor? Her eyes lit up, despair momentarily banished. Who?

Quickly putting down her work, she followed the guard. “Here. Come in.” The door opened; Nora entered and saw a handsome, noble figure—Damien! She was stunned. Abandoned by the world, he was her only visitor.

He sat in a chair, wearing a thin, handmade black wool coat, his aristocratic aura undeniable. The prison’s old furniture stood in stark contrast to his elegance. Nora, in her crumpled, dirty prison uniform—marked with the shameful “49”—felt deeply embarrassed.

Damien, expressionless, pointed to the chair opposite. “Sit.”

Nora, once wealthy, had never felt worthy of the Imperial prince. Now, imprisoned, she felt even further away.

She sat, smiled, and said, “Damien, how…did you find the time to visit?”

“I have some questions.”

“What? Ask away.”

“That night, I asked your name. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Nora froze, as if electrocuted. He’d come to ask about that night? He’d asked for Joyce Brown’s name? Adults typically part ways after a one-night stand; asking names is taboo. Unless, Damien didn’t consider it a one-night stand. He’d clearly enjoyed himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked.

Her face paled. Jail wasn’t enough punishment? He’d stabbed a knife into her heart! He knew her greatest pain wasn’t his lack of love, but his recollection of another woman in bed, right in front of her.

Damien looked at her silently, then said deeply, “If you didn’t want to tell me your name that night, why did you demand responsibility when pregnant? You just wanted my child, didn’t you?”

Nora, knowing Olive’s background, realized Joyce Brown’s shamelessness. She’d gone to Damien’s room to have a child—Olive.

“You’re not here for the child, then why…? But that night you didn’t like me. You called me a one-time bedmate.”

One-time…friend with benefits? Nora gasped. Damien hadn’t spoken of that night, yet everyone knew he wouldn’t forget it.

Was Joyce insane? Didn't she know whom she’d slept with? The world’s richest man, the Imperial son. The most powerful, wealthy, and handsome man she’d ever conquered, yet she’d been so arrogant as to call Damien a one-time bedmate?

Damien looked at Nora, silent for a few seconds, then shook his head slightly. “You weren’t the woman that night, were you?”

Nora gasped. Had he discovered something? Was this prison visit a test, to uncover the truth of that year? Had he met Olive? Did he realize Olive was his daughter?