Chapter 5

The moment we stepped into the Quinn estate, Mark Quinn, Samuel's father, slammed his cup down. It shattered against the floor, and his voice thundered with raw fury. "Who the hell gave you permission to bring her here again?"

Samuel looked completely unfazed, as if he'd been dealing with this nonsense his whole life.

I already knew the drill: the Quinns couldn't stand Maggie. They looked down on her background, which was the only reason Samuel and Maggie had been kept apart for years.

It wasn't until Samuel finally took the reins of the family business that he felt confident enough to take her back into his life.

Mark was already halfway out of his chair, rolling up his sleeves as if he were about to beat Samuel.

I actually wanted Samuel and Maggie to have their happy ending, so I figured I'd try to smooth things over.

But Samuel jumped in first. "Don't look at me. Maggie and Catherine are friends; they decided to show up together."

Mark shot me a furious look, but still led us to the family mausoleum.

I looked around, but Heathcliff's photo was nowhere to be seen.

Even though I knew I probably shouldn't ask, I couldn't hold back. Turning to Samuel, I asked, "Where's your brother Heathcliff's photo?"

Samuel stared at me in shock for a while before finally asking, "How did you know?"

He'd never mentioned anything about Heathcliff to me before.

With how proud Samuel was, there was no way he'd ever tolerate being treated as Heathcliff's replacement.

I'd managed to keep this secret under wraps for three years, but now I was really starting to get nervous.

This was probably my last time coming here, and I wanted so badly to take Heathcliff's ashes away with me.

I wanted to be buried next to him.

So I tried to act casual and asked, "Someone told me about it. Where are his photo and ashes?"

Samuel's face darkened, probably sensing something was off. "We'll talk about this when we get home."

For the past three years, I never stepped out of line in front of the Quinn family.

Ever since Samuel and I agreed to marry, I did my best to play the perfect wife.

I stayed polite in front of his parents, kept my head down, and never caused a scene about Maggie.

But now, I couldn't calmly keep up the act anymore.

Thinking about how the Quinn family had always ignored Heathcliff, I couldn't stop my voice from shaking and getting louder. "You guys didn't even bother to put up a memorial for Sam, did you?"

Samuel looked at me in utter disbelief. "What did you call him?"

I'd been calling Samuel "Sam" for three years. He'd clearly forgotten that his dead brother shared the same nickname.

I ignored him and turned back to Mark. "Mr. Quinn, where are Heathcliff's remains?"

Mark was trembling with rage, but he forced it down, clearly unwilling to make a scene here. He gritted his teeth, his voice a low growl. "Get her out of here. I don't want to hear that garbage."

The housekeeper, looking nervous, tried to hush me. "Don't say that. It's not proper. Please, stop talking."

Then she muttered, "God, she didn't mean it. Don't let any of that happen."

They all looked at me with such disgust, as if saying Sam's name was a stain on their pristine reputation.

They didn't care about him when he was alive, and now they couldn't even stand to keep a single photo of him. I never thought people could be this cold-blooded, but there it was.