The Billionaire's True Heiress: From Fake Jewel to Real Crown novel Chapter 660

Cindy sat at Octavia’s side, carefully pressing an ice pack to the bruise swelling across her mother’s face.

Latham’s slap had left half of Octavia’s cheek flaming red and puffy.

When Latham returned, Cindy instinctively shrank back, anxiety knotting inside her. The man she had called father now made her afraid; his words echoed in her mind—he’d called her a bastard, a child who didn’t belong.

Earlier, she’d tried asking Octavia if it was true—was she really his daughter? Her mother’s response had been only silence, but that silence spoke volumes. Cindy’s worst suspicions clawed at her chest.

“Octavia, come with me to the study.” Latham’s curt tone made it clear he was in no mood for argument; he shot Cindy an icy glance but didn’t so much as acknowledge her.

To him, Cindy was nothing—just a constant reminder of his anger, even worse than Claire. No wonder he’d never managed to feel close to Cindy, even after she’d been home for so long. Without a blood connection, her tender feelings and thin-skinned sensitivity only grated on him more.

“Dad, please—don’t hit Mom again.” Cindy’s voice trembled as she tried to shield Octavia from following Latham upstairs.

Her mother was her only ally now. Cindy couldn’t just stand by and watch Octavia get hurt again.

“Don’t call me ‘Dad.’” Latham sneered, his tone ice-cold. “I have zero interest in claiming another man’s mistake as my own daughter.”

The words knocked the wind out of Cindy, and she flinched, drawing back into herself.

For a brief moment, Octavia felt a rush of comfort as her daughter tried to defend her, but hearing Latham hurl “bastard” at Cindy again and again left her heart aching. She gave Cindy a firm shake of her head, wordlessly telling her not to interfere, and then quietly followed Latham up the stairs.

Latham was a man obsessed with reputation; that outburst, that slap, had been a flare-up, not his usual behavior. He almost never raised a hand to women. If he’d asked her to the study, it meant he had things to say out of Cindy’s earshot—at least that gave Octavia a little peace of mind.

As the study door closed upstairs, Cindy slipped away, darting outside and pulling out her phone. She dialed Lance’s number with trembling hands.

He answered on the third ring, his voice drained and tired. “Hello?”

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