Chapter 393

In the study, Wallace leaned back in his chair, his breathing labored. Andrew looked on with cold detachment. "What do you wish to say to me? If it's some final words, there's no need." Gasping for breath, Wallace slowly replied, "Andrew, I know you resent me for suppressing what happened back then, but please let me explain." Andrew stopped him from saying more. "You need not explain anything to me. What's there to resent? By the time I was rescued, that disgusting pair of siblings was already dead. "I endured five years of torment just for the objects of my revenge to be gone when I was rescued. What is there left to hate? Or should I resent my birth mother, who sent me back to the Wentworth family in her ambition, only to return in madness and kill the man who had abandoned her? "She didn't kill him for me; rather, she killed him because he shattered her hopes of remarrying into wealth. What can I possibly hate? I can only hate myself—hate the dirty blood that runs in my veins!" At eight years old, he had been imprisoned. At 13, he had been rescued. On the very day of his rescue, his mother had killed his father and his youngest aunt—his enemies. His mother was then imprisoned for murder. With his enemies dead, he had found himself with no one left to hate. He didn't even know why he had come to this loathsome world. From that moment on, he had trusted no one. Wallace had used Andrew's mother to convince him to agree to the marriage. Andrew's mother harbored no love for him, and he had never contemplated rescuing her from prison. But he thought it would be enough to allow her to return to high society. After all, she was the reason he had been able to escape that basement. They would be even. Wallace had always opposed the idea, knowing well that Andrew's mother wasn't a good person. Whether it was his deceased eldest son and youngest daughter or the woman who had given birth to Andrew, in the eyes of Wallace, they all deserved their fate. Wallace's breathing grew heavier, and he clutched his chest urgently. "At that time, I suppressed those matters not merely because they were scandals for the Wentworth family, but mainly for you!" Andrew stiffened slightly, skepticism glinting in his eyes. Seeing the doubt in Andrew's gaze, Wallace's expression turned bitter. "You think I buried those rumors for the sake of our reputation? Do I truly care about my reputation? In my youth, I made many mistakes, and never once did I deny them—what's done is done. "But if those scandals can spread, the first person to suffer would've been you." Wallace coughed, blood beginning to seep from the corner of his mouth. Andrew narrowed his eyes, unsure whether it was anger or concern that flickered within. After a pause, the coughing subsided, and Wallace continued. "When those events transpired, I realized that no matter how great an empire I built, it was worthless. At that time, I thought by suppressing those scandals, no one would bring it up in front of you. Given time, perhaps you could forget the pain and gradually heal. "No one outside knew of those matters. I forbade anyone within the Wentworth family from mentioning them. I kept you by my side, personally guiding you. "I taught you the ways of business, gave you shares, and watched you grow stronger day by day. Eventually, no one would bring up the pains of your past. "The people who deserved to die back then are all gone. I immersed myself in work, neglecting my own children and grandchildren. I was wrong, and now, as I approach death, my explanations are not an appeal for forgiveness. I only hope you can let go of your grievances and live well. "All I've ever wanted was for you to live like an ordinary person." Wallace had spent his life building an empire, believing that leaving a vast legacy for his children would make him a worthy elder. It was only after the events surrounding Andrew had unfolded that he had realized he was wrong. Andrew remained rooted in place after listening. He had never considered that the suppression of those matters had been for him. He had assumed that Wallace, who so valued the family's reputation, was only concerned with the family's honor and pride by concealing those events. Was it really because he feared too many people would know and continually bring up those horrific pasts? He recalled some deliberately forgotten memories. When Celine was demoted to being his youngest aunt, she once broached the subject of those past events, only to have her legs broken on the spot by Wallace. For half a year, she lay in a hospital bed, bedridden. From that moment on, she never dared to utter a word about it again, and with time, she nearly forgot she wasn't actually the youngest aunt. If it had been about reputation, Wallace would not have needed to erupt in rage nor be so heavy-handed with Celine, who had never mentioned the issue to anyone outside the family.