Chapter 206

The word "Mrs. Valdemar" from Henry Chamberlain echoed relentlessly in Alexander Valdemar's mind.

Sophia Laurent's poised figure under the flashing cameras lingered in his thoughts.

He rubbed his temples, forcing himself to focus elsewhere.

The greedy face of Vincent Valdemar surfaced before him.

The temperature in the hospital room seemed to plummet.

Meanwhile, Sophia had arrived at Patriarch Valdemar's ward.

After Vincent's earlier outburst, the old man looked visibly weaker.

He reclined against the pillows, staring blankly out the window.

"Grandfather, are you feeling better?"

Sophia's bright voice cut through the sterile silence like sunlight.

The Patriarch turned slowly, his clouded eyes finally focusing.

"Sophia..." His voice was hoarse.

She quickly poured him a glass of warm water.

The butler standing nearby exhaled in quiet relief.

The old man had been silent since waking—until Sophia appeared.

With the water, some color returned to the Patriarch's face.

"Thank you for today."

Sophia shook her head, her eyes crinkling. "We're family."

She remembered all his kindness—from arranging Margaret Clementson's care to defending her against the Lowells.

This man had given her the warmth of kinship she'd never known.

The Patriarch froze.

"Family" was a foreign concept in the Valdemar household.

Vincent drowned himself in debauchery. Victor Valdemar was lost in his art.

The Valdemars glittered on the surface but were ice beneath.

Looking at this radiant young woman, he felt an unfamiliar warmth in his chest.

"Yes. We're family."

His sons were disappointments, but at least the younger generation held promise.

Though even they kept him at arm's length.