Chapter 550

Shards of porcelain—what remained of an antique vase—littered the marble floor, scattered among torn strips of newspaper, snapped flower stems, and small puddles of spilt water. Eleanor froze. For a split second, her mind went blank. Then, realisation set in like a cold wave. Her eyes narrowed, shifting toward her son. "Leo, you—" Her brows knitted into a tight furrow, her tone teetering between disbelief and reprimand. A flicker of disappointment surfaced in her usually calm gaze. "How could you make such a mess in someone else's home?" Her voice, though soft, carried a subtle edge, tinged with the weary exasperation of a mother who expected better. To Eleanor, Leo had always been bright, composed, mature beyond his years. But now? Now he looked like any other rebellious child, caught red-handed in a fit of chaos. The pristine elegance of William’s Court had been reduced to utter mayhem—and there was no question in her mind who the culprit was. Leo shifted uneasily, biting his lower l