"You’re not the only woman who has professed her love for me. Do you think I owe you anything simply because you im to love me?"


    "And if you’re truly acting in my best interest, why do you resemble an envious snake, eager to devour my woman simply because she isn’t you? Don’t assume I didn’t notice your expression just because you tried to hide it," Dave said with a smirk, clicking his tongue in disdain.


    "Rather than iming this is for my benefit, I’d find it far more amusing—and bold—if you admitted you’re acting out of your own selfish desires."


    "That’s the truth. Don’t even try to convince me your love is pure and genuine; if it were, you wouldn’t be attempting to drive away the woman I care about just to keep me from being with her."


    "In truth, all you wanted was to iste me, waiting for the chance tofort me at my lowest so you could sneak your way into my bed—and my pants."


    "Don’t even try to sully the meaning of pure and genuine love. Like they say, a dark heart always sees the ugliness in others, because your vision is tainted by the ckness in your own heart."


    "Since you’re fully aware that you’re a servant to my family, shouldn’t you know your ce instead of lusting after your master? So tell me—who’s the real gold digger here?" Dave didn’t hold back, determined to make his point.


    When the maid called Hera a gold digger, it wasn’t Hera who took offense—it was him.


    Anger burned within him, not because of the insult itself, but because they were treating Hera this way when she clearly wasn’t the person they were trying to paint her as.


    And even if she were a gold digger, that would be his concern and no one else’s.


    So, despite his harsh and cutting words, Dave didn’t care. Everyone knew well enough that he wasn’t someone you wanted to provoke.


    The maid had managed to press all of Dave’s wrong buttons, provoking him to the brink.


    He was barely holding onto his anger, not wanting to frighten Hera or reveal the extent of his temper.


    Instead, he chose to keep hisposure and talk some sense into the woman who imed to love him.


    Though Dave knew that reasoning with a delusional person was like talking to a wall, he still feltpelled to say his piece.


    Even if the maid refused to listen, he knew that some of his words would linger, haunting her and cutting deeper than any punishment he could impose.


    The stronger her feelings for Dave, the deeper his words would cut, driving the knife further into her heart.


    The pain would linger, a constant reminder of her actions, and that would be the price she had to pay for crossing the line in front of Hera.


    This was Dave’s method of retribution. He never resorted to physical confrontation but always struck where it hurt the most—shattering someone’s heart and mind with his words.


    After delivering his final blow, Dave noticed the light in the maid’s eyes fade, and only then did his gaze narrow.


    He stood up, his posture rigid, turning his attention to the butler, who was still paralyzed by shock.


    The events had escted so rapidly that the butler’s mind struggled to process everything.


    It wasn’t until he caught sight of Dave’s deadly re that the butler’s senses returned, pulling him back from the edge of panic.


    The butler quicklyposed himself, awaiting Dave’s next instructions.


    "Remove her from the premises. Pay her remaining sry and triple her severance before sending her away," Dave ordered coldly, showing no sign of remorse.


    This, in fact, was his version of leniency, given that she had served the family for a decade since her youth.


    As if struck by a sudden thought, Dave added, "Also, transfer all the younger female staff working here to the old mansion and let my mother handle their discipline.


    Bring the older maids from there to rece them."


    Dave didn’t need to borate further—his intentions were clear, and the butler understood the underlying message.


    Without hesitation, he began dragging the maid away as Dave dismissed them, hurrying to carry out his orders.


    The butler dragged the maid away, her once vibrant demeanor now reduced to a shell, as if all the life had been drained from her.


    But Dave didn’t spare her a second thought. When he turned to see Hera wiping her clothes with a napkin, his cold facade melted into a gentle, albeit weary, smile as he approached her.


    "I’m truly sorry about this," he said, his voice softening.


    "I know this has overshadowed our wonderful dinner, and I hope this incident won’t tarnish your impression of the Carsons—or of me." The intimidating figure from earlier had vanished, reced by an expression that teetered on the edge of tears, reminiscent of a chastised child.


    Hera smiled sweetly at Dave, she wasn’t deaf enough not to hear everything he said.


    She recognized that while his words were undeniably harsh and out of line, they were likely the only way to make the maid cease her behavior.


    Hera understood that the maid’s feelings for Dave might have been genuine; after all, a decade spent in the Carson household could easily foster such emotions.


    It wasn’t hard to see how a woman might fall for Dave, given his charm and sess—qualities that could captivate any heart.


    However, even though she may have genuinely loved him, that was no justification for her actions.


    While her behavior might have seemed mild and could bebeled a harmless prank, allowing it to go unaddressed would only embolden her.