?Chapter 1541:


    Maia’s hands clenched without her realizing it, knuckles whitening as her nails pressed into her palms. Just imagining that scene made her feel trapped. Her mother had been put on disy, evaluated, arranged for—stripped of any choice of her own. Maia knew the elderly man sitting before her had truly loved his daughter. But that love was oppressive, overwhelming, wrapped in control that felt more like chains than protection.


    Dominic noticed her reaction. He caught the brief sh of resistance in her eyes and said nothing more about those days—nothing more about those so-called promising young men.


    Silence stretched between them.


    Outside, the thunder rolled closer, as though echoing directly overhead. The ss trembled faintly.


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    “I know,” Dominic said atst, his voice distant. “My need to control everything was too strong. Your grandmother scolded me harshly back then. She said Melody was our daughter, a living person—not my soldier, and certainly not my subordinate. She said I had no right to decide her entire life or use her to carry out my own will.”


    His voice gradually faded. “But at that time, I was at the height of my career—arrogant, stubborn, unwilling to listen. I believed I was acting for her own good. I thought my experience outweighed everything. I was convinced that one day your mother would understand, that she would even thank me.”


    As he spoke, Dominic lifted the back of his hand and wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. A faint, self-deprecating smile crossed his face, filled with emptiness and bitter irony. “It turned out I was wrong. Terribly wrong.”


    He rose unsteadily to his feet and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window, his steps slow and uncertain. At that moment, thunder exploded outside. A blinding bolt of lightning tore through the dark sky like a silver de against the night, flooding the suite with sudden, harsh light. For an instant, Dominic’s aged face was fully revealed—every line carved deep with regret and years of remorse.


    Rain mmed against the ss in a relentless downpour, producing a dull, pounding rhythm.


    Maia watched his back. His figure looked painfully lonely, steeped in quiet destion. A suspicion had already taken root in her mind. She lifted her gaze, her voice gentle but firm. “Is it because of my father?”


    Dominic’s body stiffened. He turned around slowly, standing against the light, his face swallowed by shadow and his expression unreadable—only his eyes shone sharply.


    “You really are just like your mother,” he said with a sigh, then walked back and lowered himself onto the sofa.


    This time, his expression was more serious than she had yet seen it.


    “The truth is far moreplicated than you think. In the beginning, it was my arrogance and need for control that fractured things between your mother and me.” He stopped, as though bracing himself for what came next.


    What followed was a secret buried for over forty years—the greatest taboo of the Watson family.


    “But what I’m about to tell you,” Dominic said slowly, “is the real reason she left. And it is the root of all this tragedy.”


    Dominic’s gaze drifted toward Siena and Cade, who stood some distance away. This time, the two of them seemed to understand at once and quietly excused themselves. When the door clicked shut, Dominic turned back to Maia, his tone slowing, each word chosen with deliberate care.


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