"I... I don’t know."
Hans arched an eyebrow. "Zack, are you ignoring my words now because you think I’m not the one calling the shots in the Cooper family anymore?"
"Sir, I would never dare," the butler stammered, anxiety all over his face.
He’d watched Hans grow up, had seen him forced to become a man overnight after his parents died. His heart ached for him—how could he possibly disregard him now?
"Sir, I suspect it was the young madam," the butler said, choosing his words carefully. "She came by the other day and asked Ms. Lawson to bring her some tea. But Ms. Lawson accidentally spilled it on her dress. The young madam was furious—she said Ms. Lawson had no business serving tea if her hands were so useless."
He didn’t dare say more. After all, he had no proof.
But Hans understood.
He’d been running himself ragged, flying between countries, organizing the wedding, spending weeks away from home. He hadn’t expected Eleanor to show up here. And it never crossed his mind that Una would be treated so cruelly under his roof.
The butler, noticing the change in Hans’s expression, lowered his voice. "The room’s ready, just as you asked."
Hans snapped out of it and followed him upstairs.
This room had once been a nursery. Now, under Hans’s orders, most of the furniture had been replaced. The tiny crib was gone, replaced by a large bed. The pink curtains had given way to pale blue ones.
The butler hovered at the door. "Sir, have you found the young miss?"
Hans turned away from the window, masking every flicker of emotion. "Not yet," he said quietly.
He couldn’t risk dragging her into this mess.
The butler looked crestfallen. "Then… this is for…?"
Hans managed a wry smile. "I just thought, after all these years, my sister’s grown up. She deserves a proper room."
The butler nodded. It made sense.
Hans closed the door behind him. "Keep it clean," he instructed. "No one goes in, understood?"
"Yes, sir."
Hans released his grip, straightened, and stepped back.
Eleanor coughed violently, tears streaming down her face.
Monica rubbed her back, then turned on Hans, her voice shaking with rage. "Are you out of your mind? You almost killed her!"
Eleanor’s voice was hoarse, her eyes brimming with tears. "Hans, why are you treating me like this?"
Hans let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Eleanor, why did you sneak off to the manor behind my back?"
They were married, but Hans had never intended to bring Eleanor to the old family home.
Eleanor touched her sore neck, her husband’s fingers still burning her skin. He’d nearly strangled her the moment he arrived, and now he was interrogating her about the manor. His coldness was unbearable.
She propped herself up and looked at him, eyes searching. "Hans… you never really cared about Una, did you? There’s someone else in your heart, isn’t there?"
Hans’s pupils contracted sharply, his face giving nothing away.

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