Veyron calmly adjusts his collar, his movements deliberate and smooth, as though the king's fury barely registered.
"I fail to see the confusion here, Your Majesty," Veyron begins, his tone dripping with indifference. "You needed my family's support to secure the throne, and I, in turn, needed an omega. You knew how rare they are. You sold her to me, fully aware of my... unsavory reputation." He shrugs nonchalantly, as if discussing a trivial business deal.
The king's chest heaves with unspent rage, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Sure," Veyron continues, his blue eyes gleaming with wicked amusement, "I may have manipulated and taken advantage of a little girl. But you?" He steps closer, his voice lowering into something sharp and cutting. "You were her brother. Her big brother. She loved you despite your disturbingly unhealthy obsession with her. And yet, you—" he pauses, his lips curling into a cruel smile—"you were her breaking point."
