Chapter 492 Madeline Was Infallible

Derek's patience had been worn thin by the unfolding drama, and in a tone that brooked no argument, he delivered the revelation, "She stole Norah's work, Norah called her out on it at the competition, and in a rage, she fainted."

His blunt words cut through the tension like a blade, leaving Madeline's embarrassed smile frozen in place, her gaze filled with disbelief.

Wasn't Derek supposed to be her ally, her husband-to-be?

Madeline's heart ached at his callous words, the sharpness of his revelation cutting deep into her very soul.

in less than a second, tears began to prickle at her eyes as she fought to comprehend the motivation behind Derek's harsh indictment. Was he trying to humiliate her? Had his loyalty shifted to Norah, or had he simply lost all compassion for her?

"Now, now, Derek, my darling daughter is sometimes a bit muddled, but she is such a sweet girl. She's pregnant, too, and we must be mindful of her emotions. She's a good girl, and we must bear with her a bit more, Rhoda said, her voice oozing with pride.

In her imaginary world, Madeline was infallible. Norah's resistance to plagiarism was the true crime, and the fault lay with those who failed to comply with Madeline's whims.

Clutching at any excuse that might redeem her daughter, Rhoda stood staunchly by Madeline's side, her fingers stroking her daughter's hair with tenderness and pride. "Madeline is competitive, always striving for the best. It's not her fault," she declared, her voice a mix of motherly concern and fierce loyalty. In Rhoda's eyes, her daughter was perfect, beyond reproach.

Coen's response, however, was not one of misguided protection, but a simmering anger directed at his daughter's carelessness. How could she have been so sloppy in her duplicity?

This could tarnish their own reputations as parents. As Coen pondered the lost opportunity for business collaboration, a fire raged in his chest. In an attempt to placate Rhoda while also distancing himself from his wife's

defense of Madeline's actions, Derek responded, "Mrs. Powell, I understand your perspective. I love Madeline. If I had known about this, I would have protected her from any harm. His tone attempted to exude concern and reason. To him, it was just a draft. If Madeline liked it, why couldn't she use it? What was the harm?

Derek's mind raced with a litany of perceived slights at Norah's hands.

He recalled how she had once refused to give handmade sachets to his

mother and sister, despite his request. What was the harm in sharing such a

small gift, especially when it was not about the money?

This self-centeredness of Norah's appeared to have resurfaced today, and

Derek struggled to reconcile this stinginess with the girl he once knew The

sense of loyalty within him flared with indignation, his mind circling around the idea that she had waited for the moment to inflict the most damage.

He held Madeline's hand tighter, a clear sign of his allegiance. "Mr. and Mrs.

Powell, please don't worry about Madeline," he declared, his voice tinged with

both conviction and pride. "I will protect her." Coen, still shaken by the day's events, attempted to mask his lingering confusion with a reassuring smile.

"Derek, I know you will do the right thing. You are a good man. It is a shame about the potential business opportunity with the Morris family."

Seizing on a potential solution, Derek leaned forward, his tone gaining a level of excitement. "It occurs to me that if you are still searching for new business partners. Perhaps I can introduce you to someone with a very impressive background," he suggested, his words laced with promise.

At Hancock Shooting Club.

Susanna's irritation grew with each step, the sound of footsteps behind her a persistent reminder of the unwanted presence. "They are such pests!" she said, her voice low and filled with distaste. "Why do they insist on sticking to us like leeches?" Her nostrils flared with irritation, the very air feeling heavier with their presence.

Susanna did not hate spencer but her irritation towards Amabel was not hidden, a thorn in her side that festered the longer the woman lingered near. To Susanna, the mere act of breathing in Amabel's vicinity felt like a trial, one she had no patience to endure. Sean, keenly aware of his sister's discontent, cast a brief yet reassuring glance at their unwanted shadow.

"Just ignore them," he said, "Our time at the shooting club is ours alone, and we will not let them taint it."

Inside the shooting club, Kennedy waited, his smile, like a beacon, lighting up the room at the sight of the trio's arrival.

"Ha! You kept your word, kid." Kennedy's friendly jibe toward Sean was quickly followed by a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. Turning his attention to Susanna, he quipped, "You missed me right?”