Shushing the Stupid Brat!

"Let's focus on the real matter now, Julin. Anything other than that is not—"

"But Father!"

Julin's voice shot up again, like nails on a chalkboard dipped in shrill.

"Aren't you curious about what someone took from the inventory after such a long time? Wouldn't you wanna know what Junior Brother has claimed from the timeless artifacts?"

And just like that, for the second time in as many minutes, she had the gall to interrupt the Patriarch.

The fucking Patriarch. The head honcho.

The man who could, with a flick of his wrist, turn her into a footnote in family history. But no, here she was, clucking away like a rooster in heat.

Artis, standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall, clenched his fists behind his back.

'This fucking bitch.'

He cursed internally, his jaw tightening as he resisted the urge to slap the smug off her face.