Chapter 1
During my summer holiday, recovering abroad, I saw the wedding announcement for my daughter, Sophie.
Her fiancé was a sixty–year–old man.
I rushed home immediately, only to find the three young men I had hand–picked and raised as potential sons–in–law fawning over our housekeeper’s daughter.
When they saw me, they spoke one after another, their words a rehearsed chorus of condescension. “Charlotte, Sophie insists she has a taste for older men. We tried to stop her, we really
did.”
“But don’t you worry. After Sophie is married off, we’ll take good care of all the Shaw family businesses for you.”
“And as for Rosalind, we’ll respect whoever she chooses to marry. The most important thing is that she produces a worthy heir for the Shaw family, to continue the legacy.”
I looked at my own daughter, Sophie, standing silently beside them, her eyes dull and lifeless, a chilling numbness etched onto her face. A tremor of pure rage shook my body. These little pretenders, these would–be sons–in–law, thought they could steal everything from my daughter?
They were living in a fantasy.
Their mouths kept moving, a relentless stream of noise, but I couldn’t hear a single word.
Thad chosen them myself from an orphanage years ago, bringing them into the Shaw family with the sole intention of grooming an excellent husband for my daughter.
I never imagined their ambition would be so monstrous.
As they prepared to speak again, I hurled my luggage directly at them. “Get out!”
They froze for a second, stunned.
But it was the housekeeper’s daughter, Rosalind, who scurried to pick up my bags. “Mrs. Shaw must be exhausted from her flight,” she cooed. “Don’t blame the boys for not picking you up. They’ve been working themselves to the bone at the company, just to make you proud.”
For the first time, I took a hard look at her. Though she was the housekeeper’s daughter, her face was flawlessly made up, and she was adorned in jewelry that screamed expense.
In stark contrast, my own daughter was dressed in worn, ill–fitting clothes. A stranger would have mistaken Rosalind for the heiress of the Shaw family.
As if sensing my thoughts, she cast a shy, flirtatious glance at the three men standing beside her–Lucas, Shane, and Gabriel.
“The boys are just so wonderful to me,” she said, her voice dripping with false modesty. “I can’t possibly choose between them right now, But you can rest assured, Mrs. Shaw, I’m not a materialistic person. I only look at the heart. When I become the young mistress of the Shaw family, I promise I’ll take very good care of you.”
Her words made my head spin. Who gave her the audacity to say such things to my face?
The three men behind her didn’t stop her. Instead, they puffed out their chests with pride. In that moment, I understood. Perhaps I had been too subtle in my intentions, leading them to believe they were being groomed as heirs to the Shaw fortune itself.
But even so, that was no excuse for tormenting my daughter.
I took a deep breath, took Sophie’s hand, and turned to Rosalind. “I don’t care if you’re looking at their hearts or their wallets. The affairs of a low–class servant are of no interest to me.”
Rosalind’s eyes widened in disbelief, then quickly filled with tears. “Did I… did I do something to upset you, Mrs. Shaw?”
