He used to feel he owed this mother and daughter and handed over all household matters to Clara Philips, never interfering himself.

But he never thought that his lack of interference would end up neglecting his own daughter.

Balthazar Shaw pressed his thin lips together, pondering how to handle this issue.

Regarding matters of love, he indeed knew little, and what Clara Philips said wasn't entirely without reason.

"Aurelia, handle this matter however you see fit. Even if you don't want to marry again, you have your father backing you up. Don't be afraid or worry about others; you don't need to consider anything else," Balthazar Shaw solemnly said, "Just follow your own desires."

"If you don't want to marry, your father would be thrilled; this way, you can always stay by his side."

Balthazar Shaw genuinely meant the last sentence.

When he initially allowed Aurelia Shaw to marry Mason Nightshade, it was firstly because Aurelia herself was willing, and secondly...he had his own plans.

It was a decision made out of necessity.

As it turns out, they were indeed not suited for each other.

No matter what, even if the events of that year were exposed and Mason Nightshade found out, he wouldn't allow him to harm Aurelia.

Aurelia did not know the tumult in Balthazar Shaw's heart; she smiled lightly, and for once, didn't show aloof indifference, "I know, I have a sense of propriety."

Balthazar Shaw paused, seeing that Aurelia was finally not so cold to him. For the first time, he was so excited, his aged face broke into a smile, and he instructed Uncle Liu, "Uncle Liu, quickly heat up some food for the young lady...no, don't warm the leftovers, have the kitchen prepare something new. The young lady loves sweet and sour ribs, remember to ask the kitchen to make some..."

"There's no need." Aurelia interrupted before Balthazar could finish, "Viscount and I have already eaten outside."

Suddenly, not wanting to be too harsh, she added, "For breakfast, I'd like some porridge; have the kitchen prepare some, and a glass of milk."

Thinking of something, she furrowed her brow and sternly said to Balthazar Shaw, "No sweet and sour ribs for breakfast!"

Balthazar Shaw, being pointed at, nodded a bit awkwardly, "Father understands, I won't ask the kitchen to make it."

Having been dominant in the business world for half his life, he was a doting father in front of his daughter, unable to be angry with her, wishing to present her with the best in the world.

Yet.

How did his daughter know he intended to ask the kitchen to make sweet and sour ribs for breakfast?

"Ah—!"

Upstairs, a sharp scream resounded.

Clara Philips's face changed, she stood up abruptly from the sofa and rushed upstairs.

That was Jovana's voice!

What happened to Jovana?!

Aurelia narrowed her eyes, sipping hot water, a smile of joy spreading on her lips from the steam.

It seemed the Viscount had caused trouble again.

She stood up unhurriedly and walked upstairs.

-

Second-floor bathroom.

The Viscount curled his lips into a wicked smile, pulled out a paper towel, and wiped his wet fingertips, casting a disdainful look at Jovana Shaw, who was soaked and as bedraggled as a drowned rat, his gaze was cold and devoid of any warmth.

Jovana Shaw shivered. The Viscount, usually mischievous yet relatively gentle, now, with one side of his face turned cold and...frightening.

Yes, truly frightening, with not a hint of warmth in his eyes, and devoid of any care for gentleness and beauty in his methods.

She had thought the Viscount was just a playboy who knew nothing but fun and games; she never expected that his hidden side would be so ruthless.