?Chapter 1538:


    The emotional defenses she had builtyer byyer over time began to fracture. A swell of feeling surged through her chest, unfamiliar and difficult to name. It was neither anger nor forgiveness.


    Maia took a careful step forward, paused briefly, then slowly reached out and ced her hand against Dominic’s trembling back. At her touch, his aged body stiffened. The warmth beneath her palm was unmistakable—thin and rigid. Even through the fabric, she could feel the grief he had been holding down.


    “No need to hurry,” Maia said softly. In the quiet, heavy room, her voice sounded especially clear. “Take your time.”


    Those simple words worked like a calming balm. Dominic’s tense frame slowly eased. He drew in a long, steady breath, as if the air itself had restored some fragment of his strength. Gradually, he raised his head and met Maia’s eyes once more. The haze had cleared from his gaze, leaving behind a deep, settled calm—as though he was no longer seeing only Maia, but someone elseyered within her, carved into the very marrow of his soul.


    “You and your mother,” he murmured, a strained and rueful smile touching his lips. “You truly resemble her. Not just your features, but that stubborn will and unbending pride as well. So alike it feels as though you are the same person.”


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    His eyes drifted toward the window, voice carrying into the distance. “When she came into this world, I ced all my hopes on her. I wanted her to enter the military academy, to wear a uniform like mine, to be a soldier. I wanted her to defend the nation and carry forward the Watson family’s honor.” That had been the future Dominic had mapped out for his daughter—the only road he believed was right.


    Beyond the window, a low roll of thunder moved through the sky, dense and oppressive, warning that a greater storm was drawing near. Inside the suite, however, an unnatural stillness lingered, with only Dominic’s low voice echoing softly in the room.


    “But she told me her heart leaned toward a different path.”


    Dominic shut his eyes, as though his daughter’s resolute voice still rang clearly in his ears. “She said she didn’t want to wear a military uniform. She said a life already nned step by step was not the life she desired. She wanted to be a doctor—to heal wounds and save lives.”


    A short, sadugh escaped him,den with regret and quiet self-reproach. “I was furious at the time, yet not entirely opposed. I thought being a doctor was admirable. Even the army needs its doctors. As long as she stayed within the military, under my watch, I believed she could choose anything.”


    Maia stayed quiet, her attention unwavering as she absorbed every word. With Dominic’s narration, a long-missing portrait of her mother gradually took shape in her thoughts.


    “And after that…” Dominic’s tone sank into heaviness. “She wavered. She told me medicine was no longer the path she wanted. She chose journalism instead. She wanted to walk into the heart of chaos and reveal the world without filters.”


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