?Chapter 1597:
He truly did not understand. Back then, he had been unable toprehend his defiant daughter. Now, he was just as incapable of understanding the granddaughter standing before him. In his mind, he had carved out a wless future for Melody—one paved with honor, privilege, and effortless prestige. If she had only followed the road heid out, she would have possessed wealth and glory far beyond ordinary reach.
And yet she had rejected it all, throwing his painstaking ns into ruin.
“This is not the time to bring that up!” Dominic snapped, clenching his fist, his tone allowing no dissent. “Answer me! Make your choice right now. Are you choosing Chris—or are you returning to the Watson family?”
Confronted with his fury, Maia simply shook her head. Her voice remained calm, almost clinical.
“Please don’t work yourself up. Your blood pressure can’t handle it. You’ve let your desire for control grow so extreme that any resistance enrages you—and that very obsession is what triggered your copse and put you in this hospital bed.”
She paused, her gaze sharpening with quiet resolve.
“General Watson, I am not your property, nor am I a pawn you can move at will. I won’t follow your instructions, because I am a person—an independent one. I’ve lived most of my life without relying on family, whether it was the Morgan family or the Watson family. I have no interest in inheriting power, status, or titles. I don’t want to be anyone’s heir.”
Her eyes lowered, resting briefly on the frail old man still trying tomand the world from a hospital bed. For a fleeting moment, she felt pity.
“I hope you won’te looking for me again,” Maia said quietly. “That is my decision. And I will leave with Chris.”
She turned without another nce and walked toward the door.
??????rе ??оur ??????u??h???? ???? gа??????????????.??o??
“You—” Dominic erupted in rage.
The monitor beside the bed shrilled sharply as his blood pressure spiked. Yet it was as if his throat had locked shut, and no words woulde. All he could do was watch Maia’s figure vanish beyond the doorway.
Dominic gasped for breath, forcing himself to calm down. Minutes passed.
Finally, he exhaled deeply, his expression shifting as his thoughts settled.
“Hah… stubborn,” he muttered hoarsely. “Exactly like me. Truly exactly like me. What a shame, Maia… you’re still so young.”
A shadow crept into his eyes. “So Chris is your weakness—the one person you refuse to abandon. In that case… don’t me me for being merciless.” His voice dropped lower. “Years ago, I failed to stop your mother, and that failure has haunted me ever since. This time, I won’t repeat the mistake. I will make sure you walk the right path, even if you hate me for the rest of your life.”
Dominic’s gaze hardened. “Joshua!” he shouted. “Get in here!”
He intended to order Joshua Branson, his adjutant, to immediately transfer Chris to a secure military prison—somewhere Maia could never reach. As long as Chris remained under his control, Maia would eventually be forced to return.
But to his surprise, the corridor remained silent. No footsteps. No response.
His brows knit together in confusion. “What the hell is going on?” Joshua wasn’t outside? Where had the young man slipped off to? That was impossible—Joshua never neglected duty.
.
.
.