?Chapter 841:<fn5c58> Official source is f?i?n?d?n?o?v?e?l?</fn5c58>


    Her expression hardened as she shifted back slightly. “Mr. Briggs, I don’t think we’re that close.”


    The message was clear: leave her alone.


    “Still so cold,” Amon drawled,ughing softly before plunging into the pool. Water sshed as he cut across to her, stopping close—far too close.


    “What’s wrong? Do you feel guilty about putting my father in prison? Is that why you look so uneasy when you see me?” His tone carried mockery, not grief.


    Ste instinctively retreated until her back hit the pool wall.


    Her brows knitted in distaste, her eyes sharp with warning. If he came any closer, she wouldn’t hesitate to handle him the way she had dealt with Marc.


    “Amon, your father got what he deserved. I feel no guilt. But you… your father’s in prison, and you don’t even look upset.”


    She had long wondered about this. Amon’s behavior was disturbingly detached, as though he had no heart at all—only a taste for games, indifferent to everything.


    Her words drew a low, unsettling chuckle from him, the sound echoing eerily in the empty pool.


    “Upset?” His grin widened. “Why would I be upset? Just because he’s my father in name?”


    Before Ste could respond, he leaned in, lowering his voice into a casual, poisonous whisper.


    “You overestimate family ties, Ms. Russell. That man has never cared about anything but money and power. He never looked at me as his son. When my mother died, he was nowhere to be seen. Other than throwing cash at me to make trouble outside, he never gave me anything.”


    A fleeting sh of raw hatred cut through his mocking smile.


    “He’s a selfish, cold bastard. Now that he’s in prison, why should I mourn? Honestly, I find it amusing—watching my dear cousin, William, y the hero for you. What a performance.”


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    Ste stared, momentarily stunned by the venom in his words.


    She had known the Briggs family was twisted, but the depth of Amon’s resentment toward his own father startled her. He spoke of Alonzo more like an enemy than blood.


    “Your family is utterly incorrigible.”


    Revulsion surged through her. She turned, unwilling to waste another breath on him, and began swimming away.


    But Amon’s hand shot out, mping around her wrist with bruising force. Pain red, and she sucked in a sharp breath.


    “Don’t go, Ms. Russell,” he taunted, tightening his grip. “Walking out mid-conversation is so rude. My cousin is madly in love with you, and now I can’t help but wonder—what kind of charm do you really possess?”


    Amon’s eyes darkened with a dangerous gleam, and his free hand slid against the bare skin of her back.


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