"Little brothers always like their older brother's woman—is that some kind of Hughes Family tradition?" That knife hadn't even been pulled out yet, and Joshua Hughes' thin lips parted to ruthlessly twist it in deeper. Grace Roe's lips instantly lost every trace of color.
"Joshua, he's your younger brother, how can you just let him mess around like this?" Both sons were pieces of her heart, yet she actually had to watch them stir up something like this. If word got out, how would the Hughes Family even keep a footing?
"Your heart's really grown crooked. Saying you're biased isn't even enough. It was Luis Hughes who had those twisted thoughts and did something like this—how is it you're not blaming him, and instead you're turning it on me?" Joshua lazily leaned back. The woman across from him seemed to have suddenly aged ten years; she lowered her head, and tears quietly fell onto her black clothes.
