Alan seemed thoroughly familiar with the mansion, as evidenced by the way he navigated it without hesitation. The butler, knights, and maids showed no surprise at his presence, indicating he had been here many times before.
His confidence suggested he had often accompanied his mother to this house to spend time with Gloria's father.
Yet despite the household staff's easy acceptance of Alan's visits, Gloria's father regarded the boy as if he were something repulsive.
It was as if an unwanted doll, thought discarded, had inexplicably reappeared before him.
"Who let him in? I explicitly said not to let him enter," her father muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as though staving off a headache.
He waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting at a bothersome fly.
Alan's eyes widened, brimming with tears at his father's cold rejection.
He had likely come expecting the same reception he had always received—a degree of warmth and tolerance, perhaps even assistance in his and his mother's struggles.
"Throw him out," her father ordered.
Alan clutched something tightly to his chest, his small frame trembling as he fought back tears.
The sight of the boy, shrinking under the weight of his father's words, drew quiet sighs from the maids, who had likely cared for him during his visits.
"Must you be so cold? He *is* your son, isn't he?" Gloria's comment caused the maids and butler to brighten noticeably.
The meeting of a legitimate child and an illegitimate one—an event that should never have occurred—had, by some twist of fate, come to pass. And yet, none of the household staff seemed to find this strange.
The root of the problem was clear: her father's affections had always leaned toward Alan and his mother, to the point where the staff's loyalties had naturally shifted.
Her father had set the precedent by treating Alan as someone special. The servants' behavior was a reflection of that.
It now made sense why, in her previous life, Cindy had seamlessly become the second wife and Alan had been accepted as the heir without objection.
"This is the son you once considered making your successor. Since he's gone out of his way to visit, shouldn't you at least hear him out?"
In her previous life, she would have immediately ordered the knights to expel this insolent child. But this time, Gloria refrained. She had no intention of being the villain in her father's stead.
She thought back to her previous life—to Alan and her father, who had stood side by side, gazing down at her on the execution platform.
A father who had pinned his crimes on her to protect his position as head of the family.
A son who had turned a blind eye to the truth and betrayed her.
The two of them had been so close.
Surely, their bond would be just as strong in this life.
Very well, Gloria thought. Let me observe this father-son bond in its entirety.