Chapter 199

Chapter 199

Leopold walked in, passed Monica, and casually took the whip from her hand, tossing it onto the couch.

Monica stomped her foot in frustration, but she didn't dare talk back to him. All she could do was stand there glaring at Claire, wishing her stare could burn holes right through her.

Claire knelt on the floor, watching Leopold approach. Her heart was pounding.

She didn't know what he'd do to her, but she figured as long as she cried pitifully enough and sounded innocent enough, he'd eventually soften.

That's how men were, right? They couldn't stand to see women cry.

"Mr. Seymour, I really know I was wrong," her voice dripped with sweetness, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "I shouldn't have let Octavia threaten me. I shouldn't have helped her deceive people. But I had no choice—she's my sister. I didn't dare disobey her."

Leopold didn't look at her. He sat down on the couch, leaned back against the cushions, and closed his eyes.

Claire thought he must be tired. She made her voice even softer. "Mr. Seymour, you must be exhausted. Let me get you some water."

She tried to stand, but the bodyguard holding her didn't move. She sank back down onto her knees, her kneecaps hitting the tile hard enough to make her wince.

Monica watched this scene unfold, her mouth twitching.

Something felt off.

Claire's reaction was too strange. A moment ago she'd been sobbing like someone had died, and now here she was being all considerate.

She was being held down on her knees, two bodyguards standing behind her, the living room full of Seymour Family members—and she still had the energy to play these games.

This was the same idiot who'd called Leopold blind at that party?

Monica stared at Claire for several seconds, then suddenly laughed.

Claire startled at the sound and looked up at her.

"What?"

"Nothing." Monica crossed her arms, looking Claire up and down. "I just think this suits you better."

Claire didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

Monica didn't answer. She glanced at Leopold instead.

Leopold still had his eyes closed, as if he hadn't heard their exchange at all.

Monica looked back at Claire, a mocking smile playing at her lips.

She was about to say something when Leopold spoke.

"Monica, come here."

Monica walked over to him. "Leopold?"

Leopold opened his eyes and glanced at her. "Go ask her some questions."

Monica blinked. "What questions?"

"Ask her about her relationship with Octavia. Their relationship growing up."

Monica paused, then nodded.

She turned and walked over to Claire, crouching down to look at her face.

"You heard him. I ask, you answer. Don't try any tricks with me."

Claire's lips trembled. A flash of panic crossed her eyes.

She didn't know why Leopold wanted to ask these things, but she didn't dare refuse to answer.

"My relationship with her wasn't good. It's been that way since we were kids."

"Why?" Monica asked.

Claire lowered her head, her fingers twisting in her skirt, her voice barely audible.

"Because she was always pretending. Pretending to be mature, pretending to be smart, pretending to be good. Mom and Dad loved her. The relatives praised her. Everyone thought she was perfect, and everything I did was wrong. Everything I said was 'immature.' When she did well on tests, Mom and Dad rewarded her. When I didn't do well, they yelled at me for not trying hard enough. She learned everything fast. I learned everything slow. She was better than me at everything."

Monica frowned. "That's it?"

Claire looked up, her eyes reddening again. "Isn't that enough? You try living your whole life in someone's shadow. Everyone comparing you to her. Everyone saying you're not as good as her. Could you handle it?"

Monica looked at her without responding.

She was the only daughter of the Seymour Family, pampered and adored since childhood. No one had ever compared her to anyone else, and no one would dare say she wasn't as good as someone.

She didn't know what Claire was describing felt like, but she could tell the hatred in Claire's eyes was real. Not an act.

"So you cursed out Leopold at the party? Was that your own idea, or did Octavia make you do it?"

Claire's expression shifted. Her eyes darted away. "Octavia forced me to—"

"Claire." Monica's voice turned cold. "Those things you said in Leopold's office earlier—you think I didn't hear? You said Octavia was jealous of you since childhood and wanted to steal your things. Now you're saying Octavia was better than you all along. Which one is actually true?"

Claire's mouth opened, but no words came out.

Monica stood up. Looking at Claire's guilty expression, she had her answer.

She turned and walked back to Leopold.

"Leopold, I'm done asking."

Leopold nodded but said nothing.

Monica stood in front of him. After hesitating a moment, she asked another question. "Leopold, do you know where Octavia is right now?"

Leopold looked up at her, but instead of answering, he asked something else.

"At the airport that day—it really was Claire who deliberately misled you? Octavia didn't say it herself?"

Monica froze, then nodded emphatically. "Yes! It was Claire! She had the ID and phone, pointed at Octavia and said she was her sister. Said her sister didn't want to get married and was running away from the wedding, asked me to help bring her back. I thought Claire was reluctant but at least not lying to me. How was I supposed to know she was the fake one? She's evil—pushing her own sister to marry someone in her place while she ran off. I've never seen a woman like that!"

Her voice rose as her anger grew.

But halfway through, she suddenly stopped.

Her expression changed—from anger to confusion to realization.

"Leopold."

Leopold looked at her.

Monica frowned, speaking slowly. "I just remembered—Octavia kept saying we had it wrong. She wasn't Claire. She said it several times. I thought she was lying at the time and didn't listen. But looking back, her reaction didn't seem like an act. Claire set her up, and that's how I ended up bringing her back."

She paused, her voice dropping. "Which means she really was forced to come to the Seymour Family."

The living room went quiet for a moment.

Hearing this, Claire's face went pale.

She tried to say something, but Monica turned and glared at her. She immediately shut her mouth.

Leopold said nothing.

He leaned back on the couch, his expression unchanged, but Monica could tell he was thinking. Thinking hard.

After a while, Leopold spoke.

"She deceived you. Are you angry?"

He was asking Monica.