The Eliana of today was a captive, a trapped animal, and she had no say in anything. Just moments ago, she had nearly strangled Mrs. Cunningham. As a son, Dylan didn't expect to have any mercy for her, the daughter of their enemy.

"Eliana, you think you're the only one suffering after your father's death, but do you really believe that?"

Dylan retrieved a cigarette from his suit pocket. He didn't smoke regularly, only resorting to it during times of great distress. He took a drag, lost in memories of the past he had tried to bury—memories of blood-soaked events.

Back then, the Randle Family's company was just a small...