Chapter 385

For the first time, Lambert felt the urge to cry. His icy gaze locked onto his son as he stubbornly retorted, "I didn’t do it." Ariana sneered. "Then how do you explain the mark on his hand? Care to enlighten me?" Lambert’s heart ached with injustice, but he maintained his frosty demeanor. "He must have rolled on it himself while playing. That’s why it’s red." Ariana’s expression remained impassive, clearly unconvinced. At that moment, Lambert, wronged beyond belief, felt an almost murderous rage toward his own flesh and blood. But before he could utter another word, the little troublemaker stirred again. The child nuzzled against Ariana, his voice tiny and pitiful, "Daddy hit me." Lambert: "..." Ariana’s face was stone-cold. "Anything else to say?" Lambert shot his son a glare that could have withered a lesser being, his voice dripping with icy resignation. "I have nothing to say." In all his years, Lambert had never imagined he’d be brought down like this—and by his own son, no less.