Atticus Covington's face was contorted with rage as he glared at Percival and Lyra from across the table. Behind him, Sebastian Covington stood with his arms crossed, a smug expression plastered on his face.
"An illegitimate daughter," Atticus spat, slamming his fist on the mahogany table. "Do you have any idea what this will do to our reputation? The Horton Group's stock value will plummet!"
The dining room felt suffocating. Tension hung heavy in the air as Lyra sat straight-backed beside Percival, her face carefully composed despite the familiar sting of those words. Illegitimate daughter. The label that had shadowed her entire life.
"Father," Percival said, his voice dangerously calm, "I suggest you watch how you speak about my wife."
Sebastian scoffed. "Your wife? This farce of a marriage needs to end. Now. Before the damage becomes irreparable."
