The Bradford n gathered, their expressions stern and judgmental, resembling a council of old-school aristocrats confronting the unruly offspring of a distant rtive. They were there to face Tarquin, a man whose power and influence were unmatched but who, in their eyes, still needed to adhere to the principles of fairness and tradition.


    The Bradfords, with their long history and pride, were visibly agitated, their emotions fueled by the stakes involved.


    "I''ve lived a good many years," one of the elder Bradfords eximed, "and never in my life have I heard of adding names to the family tree without a drop of blood rtion! Not in a distinguished family like ours, not even amongmon folks. Are we now to muddy the Bradford lineage with outsiders?"


    "Exactly," another chimed in, "If the family tree is open to anyone, should we then consider adopting a dozen unrted children just to swell our ranks?"


    "A bunch of low-born brats aspiring to be part of the Bradfords'' legacy? Over my dead body!" the words were spat out with venom.


    Tarquin, sitting quietly to the side, his face a mask of controlled fury, finally spoke up, his voice cutting through the room like a knife, "If you don''t agree, you can drop dead!"


    The room went silent, shocked by his audacity.


    Tarquin scanned the room, his gaze icy, "Let me make myself perfectly clear. Elliot Thorne and Evan Emmett will be added to the Bradford family tree today. Anyone who has a problem with that can either leave the family and strike out on their own or, frankly, drop dead. And if anyone dares to nder them again, they''ll answer to me."


    "You..." Allegra Bradford, ovee with emotion, her wordsced with contempt, "You''re just like your father! Ignoring all the decent women only to chase after a woman who''s had children with another man..."


    Tarquin''s response was swift and physical; he grabbed a teacup and hurled it at Allegra''s feet, shattering it and cutting her ankle with the shards. Allegra screamed, both from pain and anger, as she red at Tarquin, "Elizabeth sure taught you well! Insulting your elders wasn''t enough; now you resort to violence!"


    Before Tarquin could retort, a high-ranking military officer present mmed his handgun onto the table, his face stern, "You disrespected yourself first, expecting Tarquin to treat you with deference? ''Promiscuous''? With a single word, you''ve insulted the two women he holds dearest! You''ve insulted his mother and his partner, and you expect him to respectfully call you ''aunt''?"


    The man''s presence, coupled with his undeniable air of authority and experience, silenced the Bradfords. This was a man who had seen and survived countless battles, a man whose mere look could instill fear.


    Now in his fifties and in a position of power, he had long passed the age of rash decisions. Yet, any mention of Elizabeth ignited a fire in him that time had not dulled.


    Those familiar with his story knew of his unrequited love for Elizabeth, how he had pursued her in his youth only to see her marry Kendrick. He had then chosen a life of military service, never marrying, his heart forever loyal to Elizabeth.