Mr. Roland settled into his seat at the head of the dining table, clearing his throat before greeting his family.
"Good morning, everyone."
"Good morning, Dad," they all echoed, taking their seats.
"Where is Irene?" Roland asked, scanning the table.
"I don't know," Victoria replied indifferently, cutting into her food without sparing him a glance.
Just then, a voice cut through the room. "Am here. Do you miss me that much?"
All eyes turned toward the doorway as Irene strolled in, looking visibly unwell. She pulled out a chair and slumped into it, pressing her fingers against her temples. "Ahh," she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut.
Roland immediately tensed. "And what's wrong with you?" His voice was laced with concern as he rose to touch her forehead.
Irene batted his hand away, pouting. "Leave me alone."
Daniel scoffed, crossing his arms. "Probably a hangover. Your good daughter was out last night—drinking and dancing in some indecent outfit. I wouldn't have a problem with her partying if she knew how to drink in moderation and actually dressed like a decent person instead of wearing see-through clothes."
Roland sighed, his expression hardening. "Really, Irene? When are you planning to change your ways?"
Irene groaned dramatically. "Ahhh, my head is spinning."
Victor suddenly stood and walked into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with a bowl of soup, placing it in front of her. "Take this. It should help with the hangover."
Before she could reach for it, Roland took the bowl instead, moving to feed her himself.
But Irene leaned away, eyeing the soup suspiciously. "Wait—how can I trust him? What if they're trying to poison me?"
Victor blinked in disbelief. "What?" His jaw tightened as he exhaled sharply. "I woke up thinking about you, Irene. I even asked the kitchen to prepare that soup for you. And you're accusing me?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Wow. You're so ungrateful."
Victoria nodded in agreement. "For once, he actually did something nice. You could at least show some gratitude."
Daniel, however, smirked as he leaned back in his seat. "Just remember, Victor—she's his daughter." His words carried a warning undertone.
Victor turned his glare toward Daniel. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Before tension could escalate further, Roland placed a hand on Irene's shoulder. His voice softened. "Irene, your brother would never do anything to hurt you. No one in this house would."
"Don't be so sure. In this life, anything can happen to anyone," Rosalyn said indifferently, her gaze focused on her meal.
Irene let out a dramatic sigh, clutching her chest. "Do you hear that? I can't believe I'm living among enemies." She pushed the bowl forward. "Fine, give me the soup. Let me just die already."
Without hesitation, she grabbed the bowl and gulped down the soup in one go.
Victoria's eyes widened. "That's hot—!"
Irene slammed the bowl on the table, her face twisting in disgust. "Ahhhhh! It's bitter! Shit! My mom's never made it this bitter."
Rosalyn scoffed, shaking her head. "Seems your mother never taught you properly. No wonder you turned out like this."
Irene's head snapped toward her, her expression shifting. "Did you hear that?" She turned to Roland, expecting him to react.
"Irene, that's enough," Roland said, rubbing his temples.
"No, no, let her say more." Irene smirked, cutting into her food. "Why should I give a damn about someone who couldn't even keep her man?"
The air in the room tensed.
Daniel slammed his hand on the table. "Are you sick in the head? How dare you talk to my mother like that?"
Irene leaned forward, unfazed. "How dare your mother talk about my mother like that?"
Daniel's fists clenched. "Listen, Irene, or whatever your name is—be careful in this house. Don't make me show you my other side."
A slow, taunting smile spread across Irene's face. "Oh? What does your 'other side' look like? Tell me more."
Daniel's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Roland's voice boomed across the room.
"Enough! Not a single word from any of you." His eyes swept across the table, filled with frustration. "Can't I have a peaceful breakfast in my own home?"
Silence fell over the room.
His tone softened as he turned to Irene. "Irene, can we please live in peace?"
She crossed her arms, pouting. "Did I start it?"
Roland exhaled heavily. "Enough."
Rosalyn, who had remained silent for a moment, finally spoke up. "Harmony can only exist if she leaves."
Irene raised a brow. "I'm right here, you know."
Roland ignored the tension and turned to Irene with a more serious expression. "What do you want to do?"
Irene blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You can't just idle around all day. Think about what kind of work you want to do."
Irene grinned playfully. "Nothing. I just want to look pretty for you." She winked at her father.
Victor chuckled. "Wait, what's your major?"
Roland's lips curled in a small, proud smile. "Business law. And I heard she's very good at it."
Victor's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. So you're a business lawyer? That's amazing." He leaned forward. "Why don't you become the company's legal practitioner?"
Daniel, who had been silently fuming, finally spoke. "And which company are we talking about?"
Roland smiled. "My company, of course."
"Dad, you won't even let me join the company, and now you want her to join?" Victoria asked, her voice laced with frustration.
Roland sighed. "I told you to start from scratch, but you want a higher position."
Victoria crossed her arms. "And what about her?"
"She's an excellent lawyer. I've seen her in action—she even helped the Queen win a case," Roland said.
Irene, casually taking a bite of her food, smirked. "You probably heard that from the news, right?"
Because some time back she with the helped the Queen's with a case and they did great which made the news
Roland fell silent, guilt evident in his expression. "I'm sorry," he admitted. "But I'm trying to make it up to you. Come join the company."
Victoria scoffed. "She can't join before me!"
Victor chuckled. "You studied business management, but you can't even manage your own life."
Victoria shot him a glare. "Shut up, Victor."
Victoria turned to Irene with a sharp gaze. "Then does she look like someone who can manage her life?"
Daniel smirked. "Even if she tries, she won't be able to."
Irene rolled her eyes. "Enough. Can you all stop discussing my life like I'm not sitting right here? I don't want to work. That's final."
Roland frowned. "And why not?"
Irene leaned back in her chair, grinning. "Because I prefer spending money rather than earning it."
Rosalyn scoffed, shaking her head in disgust. "So useless."
"Thanks for the compliment, ma'am," Irene shot back with a smirk.
Roland sighed deeply. "Irene, be serious for once."
"I am serious," she replied. "For now, I just want to goof around." She rested her chin on her palm, pretending to be deep in thought. "Actually… isn't goofing around also a job?"
Roland pinched the bridge of his nose. "How? How is that a job?"
Victor chuckled, shaking his head. "Dad, relax. She just got here. When she's ready to work, she'll tell you. Right, Irene?"
Irene turned to Victor, flashing a playful grin. "Mr. Victor Brown, just remember one thing—don't fall in love with me." She winked.
Victor laughed, shaking his head. "I'm done with you."
Daniel, who had been silently fuming, pushed his chair back. "Nonsense," he muttered before storming away from the table.
Irene watched him leave, then leaned back in her chair, smirking. "I wonder who he takes after."
At the Moon bar in Country B Roland and his friends Raphael and Jacob are talking and discussing about their life so far before Raphael asked
Why didn't you tell me your other daughter has arrived?" Raphael asked his friend, his brows raised as he took a slow sip of his drink.
He probably heard it from Jacob who heard it from his children
Roland sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as if trying to ease an oncoming headache. "She just came back. The girl is one hell of a problem. Ever since she arrived, she's been creating havoc at my home." His voice carried the weight of frustration, layered with something deeper—exhaustion.
Raphael leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "Really? Was it that much?"
Roland let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "Much more than I can say. My wife and children are not talking to me anymore—aside from Victor." His fingers tightened around the glass in his hand.
Jacob, Joshua's father, who had been quietly observing the conversation, finally spoke. His voice was calm but firm. "It's not easy for them to accept such a thing easily."
Raphael nodded in agreement. "Did you try explaining to them?"
Roland exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. "I tried, but they won't listen. I'm tired." His voice wavered slightly, betraying the helplessness he rarely showed.
He paused, then added with a trace of self-loathing, "Even if I explained, Irene's behavior wouldn't allow them to understand. And what's even there to explain? The fact is, I cheated. I betrayed two women and the children I raised." His eyes darkened as the weight of his past settled on his shoulders.
Jacob sighed. "It's good since you know your fault."
Before anyone could say more, a playful yet confident voice interrupted them.
"Hello, handsome guys."