Chapter 208

"I can't deal with this anymore, so stop coming to me. As for Grandma Beatrice, I'll take care of her. She's been the one who stood by me all these years, guiding me through everything. To me, she's more than just a grandmother—she's been both mother and father to me. Blood ties or not, it doesn't matter!"

Evelyn's voice was firm, her gaze unwavering as she dismissed William with a cold finality.

William's face darkened with fury. He stormed toward her desk, his hands slamming down on the polished surface. "Evelyn, is this how you speak to your father?" he seethed.

"What do you want from me?" Evelyn shot back, her tone sharp. "Should I act like Sophia, playing the spoiled princess with no responsibilities? Have you ever given me the chance to be anything else?"

For the first time, Evelyn voiced the resentment she had buried deep inside. She no longer cared about holding back—not when her father had never truly seen her as anything more than an obligation.

But William remained convinced of his own righteousness. In his eyes, Evelyn was the problem—disobedient, ungrateful, and undeserving of the Mitchell name.

His words fell on deaf ears, like fists pounding against a wall. Frustrated, he could only glare at her before delivering his final blow. "Evelyn, do you really think the Martins would even look at you twice without the Mitchell name backing you?"

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving behind a suffocating silence.

The argument didn’t stay private for long. Whispers spread through the company like wildfire. Moments after William left, Gabrielle slipped into the office, concern etched on her face. "Ms. Mitchell, are you okay?"

Evelyn forced a faint smile. "I'm fine. Just focus on your work."

Gabrielle hesitated but nodded, closing the door softly behind her.

Alone again, Evelyn sank into her chair, emotions churning inside her.

She had always assumed Beatrice’s kindness stemmed from guilt—some misplaced sense of duty toward Margaret. But now, she realized how wrong she had been.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "How is it that someone with no blood relation can love me so unconditionally, while my own parents treat me like a burden?"

Her fingers curled into fists, her expression hardening.

If Beatrice had given her so much, Evelyn would repay her in kind.

That afternoon, she arranged for Beatrice to be brought to Mayby. Worried that her own apartment might be too cramped, she rented the unit directly across the hall—a spacious, quiet place where Beatrice could rest comfortably.

As they talked, Evelyn learned more about Beatrice’s past. Beatrice had been Margaret’s stepmother, married to Evelyn’s grandfather after his first wife passed away. She had never had children of her own, choosing instead to devote herself to Margaret and Caroline’s mother. A sacrifice rarely acknowledged.

Seeing the hesitation in Beatrice’s eyes, Evelyn took her hands gently. "No matter what the past holds, you’re my grandmother in every way that matters. So please, stay here without any worries. Let me take care of you."

Beatrice smiled, touched, but still hesitant. "I’m just an old woman. I don’t want to trouble you."

"Nothing is a trouble," Evelyn insisted. "And I’m taking you to the hospital for a full check-up. No arguments."

Her tone left no room for refusal. Beatrice sighed but didn’t protest further, her weathered face softening with reluctant gratitude.