Robert sank into his chair, the stress of the day settling in his bones. Shadows danced on the walls across the room, making everything feel heavier. Papers were strewn across the desk in chaos, but Robert wasn't paying attention to any of them.
He leaned back in his leather chair, his fingers steepled under his chin, staring blankly at the wall. Delphinia's words echoed in his mind, each one sharp and cutting.
"You don't care about me. You never have."
She sounded composed, but her words carried a sting he couldn't ignore. A deep frown pulled at his face, his jaw locking in place. That wasn't true. Of course, he cared about Delphinia. She was his daughter, his flesh and blood. But she was wrong about one thing—she didn't understand him.
"I wanted the best for her," he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse with frustration. "Everything I did was for her future."
