The Duke's Unwa Chapter 107: You hurt my mother!

Chapter 107: You hurt my mother!

Eilika chuckled, though there was no warmth in the sound.

"Did you not hear the Duke? I am not merely your daughter anymore; I am the Duchess of Varos," Eilika said sternly. "And in case you were wondering, the informant wasn’t me. So, don’t even think about raising your voice at me or looking for someone to blame."

She refused to bear his insults or wrongful accusations a moment longer. The days of hanging her head in silence in the Wolanski household were over.

"If you have nothing more to say, then leave," Eilika commanded.

Wilfred’s face contorted with shock and indignation, crossing his features. "Look at you! Talking to your own father with such a sharp tongue," he muttered with resentment.

"I am still being gentle with you, Father," Eilika clarified, her eyes narrowing as she held his gaze. "Believe me, if I weren’t, the way you, your wife, and Rosaline have treated me, and the way you just accused me, would have landed you in a prison cell by now. Consider my ’sharp tongue’ a mercy."

Wilfred stood up abruptly, his tea forgotten. "You insolent brat! Is this how you were raised? Speaking with such a tone to your father," Wilfred’s face turned a mottled purple as he finally lost his temper, forgetting for a moment whose roof he stood under.

Eilika didn’t flinch. Instead, she looked up at him with a glare so sharp it seemed to cut through his outburst.

"I was raised perfectly well by my mother," she countered, her voice ice-cold. "She taught me not to bear insults, even if they come from my father. Since you clearly have no further business to attend to, you will leave, or I will have the palace guards kick you out."

The threat hit Wilfred. He looked at her, seeing a stranger in his daughter’s skin, a woman who realized that her authority bore more weight now.

He took a deep breath, pulling at the lapels of his coat to straighten his appearance. With a stiff, jerky motion, he lowered himself back onto the chair, his ego bruised and his pride dragging.

"Fine. My apologies to the Duchess," Wilfred muttered. The apology was not genuine; it was offered only to avoid the guards. "I will scold Rosaline and make sure she stops spreading rumors," Wilfred asserted, his voice regaining a bit of its defensive edge.

Eilika didn’t respond, knowing her father’s words were empty. He had spent years promising to curb Rosaline’s cruelty, yet he had never once raised a finger to stop her.

"The business isn’t going well," Wilfred continued, leaning forward with a desperate glint in his eyes. "I was hoping you could help me, using your power, your influence here."

"You came to the wrong person for that," she replied instantly. "I won’t help you. If you want your business to thrive, do it with the right means and honest work."

A deep frown etched itself into Wilfred’s forehead. Anger surged through his veins, turning his neck a blotchy red, but he forced himself to swallow his rage.

"I always did the right business! It is just that some losses occurred, unavoidable ones. You are well aware of that," he hissed, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. "And Eilika, I didn’t feed and clothe you all these years so that you would one day become this arrogant. You need to help me. If not for me, you would never have married into this family. You would not be the Duchess, and you certainly wouldn’t be sitting there with such pride in front of me."

He pointed a shaky finger at her. "You owe this position to me, Eilika. Don’t forget where you came from."

Eilika sneered with a mocking gaze. "I owe you nothing, Father. If you thought my position would ever benefit you, you were deeply mistaken. If you have even an ounce of conscience left, you will never ask for my help again."

Wilfred’s face contorted, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. The mask of the grieving, struggling businessman finally shattered, revealing the bitterness beneath.

"This is why I hate you!" he spat, the words dripping with venom. "You have been like this to me ever since you lost that beauty from your face. You actually believe the Dowager Duchess would have allowed you to be the wife of the Duke if I hadn’t spent weeks pleasing her? No one wants a woman with a scar, especially one as hideous as yours."

He threw the words like arrows, aiming for the deepest insecurities she had carried since her childhood. He didn’t care about the visible flinch in her posture or the way the tears engulfed her eyes; he only cared about hurting and breaking her spirit.

"I should have kicked you out of the house the moment your mother passed away!" he muttered, his voice shaking with anger. "You ugly, disobedient brat!"

"How dare you call my mother ugly?!" Roman’s high-pitched voice echoed through the chamber. He had scrambled out of bed after he heard the loud voice of a man. He rushed forward, planting himself firmly in front of Eilika like a shield.

"Servants! Servants!" Roman shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Roman, calm down," Eilika murmured, her voice trembling as she fought to hold back the tears that burned her eyes. The sting of her father’s words was a familiar ache, but seeing her son witness it felt like a fresh wound.

Joanna came running inside, her breath hitching as she took in the scene. "Young Master, what happened?" she asked, her eyes darting between the shaking Wilfred and the angry boy.

"Nothing happened. The young master has some misunderstanding here," Wilfred stated, rising to his feet with a clumsy haste. He tried to offer a placating smile, but it looked more like a grimace of terror.

"He is lying! He—he called my mama ugly and many bad words, sister!" Roman shrieked, his finger pointing accusingly at his grandfather.

Wilfred shook his head, his eyes pleading with his daughter. "Eilika, tell the young master this isn’t true. Tell him it was just a... a disagreement."

But Eilika remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"I will ask Father to punish you! You are a bad man! You hurt my mother!" Roman cried out, his small chest heaving as he fought with all his might to protect the woman who had always protected him.