Chapter 358: My Heart Is Breaking
Pierre had known his father disliked Alison and Emily, but he never imagined that hatred ran this deep.
He pushed the wheelchair upstairs, without glancing at Gabriel or Matthew once.
“Wait! Gabriel and I are coming, too.” Matthew called out, fearing that without Pierre the hall might turn unsafe.
“Dad, you were the one who had the photos posted.
Why bother seeing them again?” Pierre objected.
“I don’t know the specifics. I only instructed them to post them online. Let’s confirm it together,” Matthew insisted.
Alison flushed crimson with embarrassment.
Her stomach twisted — why would Manager Foster target her of all people?
Upstairs, they entered Pierre’s study.
A black-and-white photograph hung prominently on the wall.
Seeing the picture, Matthew visibly stiffened.
“Pierre, why are you still keeping this photo?” he asked.
“Dad, that’s my mother’s photo. Why shouldn’t I keep it?” Pierre replied flatly, his tone as cold as stone.
Although his mother had died young, Pierre’s love for her had always eclipsed anything he felt for his father.
He had no emotional connection with Matthew, only obligation — walking the path Matthew forced him onto.
“She…” Matthew paused.
He recalled his gentle wife.
Back then, his heart had belonged to Daphne, leaving no room for his wife — yet she had served him faithfully, without a word of complaint.
He won Daphne and leveraged her status to climb to the top of the Polar Bear Alliance — only for her to leave him quietly, planting bitterness that festered for years.
“Pierre, let’s visit your mother’s grave before Christmas.” he said, the words sounding almost regretful.
“No need. I just went a couple of days ago.” Pierre’s tone was ice-cold.
“I’ll have someone contact you. We’ll go together.” Matthew insisted.
“I’m busy these days. Maybe another time.” Pierre looked at him.
Pretending to be a husband now? You didn’t even show up at her funeral.
“Pierre, you—” Matthew hesitated, eyes flicking back toward the framed photograph.
Ignoring Matthew, Pierre pushed Alison straight to his desk.
The XP interface glowed on the monitor as it booted up, making Alison’s pulse spike.
Nervously, she said, “Everyone, please… leave. I want to see it alone.”
She couldn’t bear the humiliation of facing them while seeing those images.
Pierre released his grip on the wheelchair and turned to Matthew.
“Let’s leave.”
“Wait,” Matthew interjected. “Miss Fairchild, when will you return that letter to me?”
“After I’ve seen the photos,” she replied in a voice gone cold.
The mouse glided over the desktop, the browser loading with a mechanical chime.
“Alison, hand over it quickly, or don’t blame me for being impolite. Mr. Bruce has shown you favor.” Gabriel’s voice was icy — every word like a blade to her heart.
“Show me favor? By posting my photos online? Ridiculous! This is humiliation, you know?” She whirled around, fury burning through her tears.
The thought of Sophia and Ethan seeing those photos ripped through her like glass.
“Check for yourself. There is still an opportunity for you. You’d better seize it.” Gabriel finished mercilessly, standing firm beside Matthew — but his eyes lingered on her, holding an unspoken plea she alone could read.
The three men made no move to leave.
Alison turned to Pierre.
“Pierre, I don’t want you three standing here looking at my photos. Please get out,” she burst out, her voice cracking.
She had no leverage with Pierre, only the desperate hope that Pierre might make Matthew leave.