Ring, ring, ring...

Timothy's phone rang. It was his father.

Adjusting his expression, he answered while walking toward his car. "Dad."

"Timothy, what's going on? Any progress?"

Mr. Labbe was still in Carrie's room, but he had stepped onto the balcony to make the call. Inside, Carrie lay fast asleep, her brows furrowed in discomfort.

She had barely gotten any rest last night. Mr. Labbe had kept her up for hours, showing no mercy.

She had begged him to stop, but he ignored her pleas, even forcing her to take some pills that left her barely conscious.

Carrie cursed him in her mind before drifting into uneasy sleep. She knew full well that to him, she was nothing more than a mistress-a tool for his pleasure. If she had been his wife, he wouldn't have treated her this way.

replacing Mrs. Labbe, of becoming the real lady

anymore. She just

was too late. She had boarded his ship, and there

willingly-he had

let out a frustrated sigh. "Dad, Tinsley is impossible to crack. Honestly, I should've gone for Ainhoa Ormond instead. She just

young, inexperienced-easier to

her for ages with nothing to

had heard this, would have laughed

Because she was young and

she was

had trained all the sisters to be wary of outsiders. Even their youngest sibling, who hadn't yet come of age, was

Especially around men.

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