Chapter 116
Sydney’s body went cold. She had always loved small, fluffy animals, especially puppies. But Julian was allergic to dog hair, so
she had never been allowed one.
Until her sixteenth birthday. Against all odds, Julian had given her a little border collie. She had named it Yoyo.
Not long after, both she and Yoyo were cast aside. At least, for a brief time, Yoyo had been hers. It had been her only companion, her only solace.
The good days ended abruptly. One afternoon after school, Yoyo was gone. The Sterling family’s butler told her the dog had died.
The reason? That morning, she had not properly eaten her eggs at breakfast. She had secretly discarded the whites and fed the yolks to Yoyo instead.
She had disobeyed, and Yoyo had paid with its life.
That night, Sydney had dreamed only nightmares. Night after night, she’d cry apologies to Yoyo. If she had not been picky, Yoyo would have still been alive. In her mind, she had killed it.
From then on, every morning, Jason would set five boiled eggs before her. Only boiled eggs. She hated them. Eggs were the one food she could not stomach. Yet she’d swallow them whole each morning, then run to the school restroom to throw them up.
It was never about the eggs. It was about obedience.
She could not be Sydney. She could only be a puppet, her desires dictated by her masters. She had been like that as a child. She was still like that now.
Sydney opened her eyes in the empty hotel suite. Her knees buckled. She sank to the floor, breaking into loud, raw, unrestrained sobs.
Julian strode from the hotel, each step sharp with fury.
Raymond followed with his hands in his pockets and said lightly, “Funny. Upstairs you looked calm. Now you’re ready to tear someone’s head off?”
“Shut up.” Julian’s voice was cold.
Raymond sighed, deliberately needling him. “Honestly, that little Sydney of yours. You fight tooth and nail for her, and she worries Caleb might get caught in the middle. All she did was drag you down. Who knew she’d be such a lovesick fool?”
Julian stopped and leered at Raymond. “Are you done?”
“Not yet.” Raymond knew better than to push and softened his tone. “If you care this much, why couldn’t you have shown her a little patience? Even one simple question, a ‘why,’ would’ve been enough.”
Back then, when he had taken Sydney under his wing, Julian would speak gently, coaxing the little girl with patience.
Now, he had grown cold, sharp-edged. Bending his pride to explain himself seemed impossible.
In business, it worked, Julian Sterling was too high to stoop. Others climbed ladders just to cling to him. But with feelings? It was impossible, especially with someone like Sydney, who responded to kindness, not cruelty.
Julian’s expression was icy, “She made her own bed. Why should I waste patience on her?”
His gaze swept the corridor, then flared. Before Raymond could react, Julian was already moving, two steps swallowing three,
and drove his fist into Victor’s face,
The man had barely regained consciousness. The moment he opened his eyes, he met Julian’s hellish rage. He didn’t scream. He
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dropped to his knees.
“Cuz! I was wrong! I wasn’t thinking straight! It was that woman, Penelope from the Hampton family! She led me into this!” Victor pleaded.
Julian hauled him up by the collar-his gaze was colder than death. “When did you first get the idea?”

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