Old Madam paused as she spoke, the loving expression on her face gradually replaced by a solemn one.
"I don't want my grandson to become a puppet that only revolves around the family. He should have any kind of emotion that exists in this world, as that is something each of us is born with, even if it is pain. That's his right, isn't it?"
Arabella Vanderbilt slightly tilted her head and saw the tall and straight figure of the man on the living room terrace making a phone call, a sour taste rising in her heart.
Everyone only sees his glossy exterior but never knows what kind of experiences he has really gone through.
Even she sometimes feels he is omnipotent.
He is always the epitome of perfection, that initial impression of composure and sagacity, indifferent and profound, enough to prove that he is a calm man with terrifying self-control.
