TRISHA'S POINT OF VIEW
I hope Dalle is okay, no matter what happens. Please, Odette, take care of my son. I don't know why Kent got worse.
"He still likes playing the role of an angel," Kent Sacrasm said while sipping his whisky. He's in our house.
"Can you stop bothering them? Let them take care Dalle." He cupped my face while I was looking into his eyes. His eyes filled with anger; it wasn't the same eyes filled with love and sincerity I was looking into before.
"He's my son! How could you say that?! You just gave birth to him, but you don't have the right to tell me what I should do to my son!" He threw me onto the couch. He smirked, slowly took off his shirt, and went on top of me.