Chapter 1 Seven Years of Infertility Just for Her

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Fenwick, but it seems this round of artificial insemination has failed once more."

Rosalie Ashford felt a chill seep through her fingers as she held the test results.

She had long since lost track of how many times she had heard these words.

After seven years of marriage, the Fenwick family continued to wait for her to bear an heir. But her womb remained stubbornly unresponsive, showing no sign of life.

She had explored every possible option—intimacy, folk remedies, IVF, and even surgery.

Just as Rosalie was about to knock on the doctor's door, she overheard a conversation that stopped her in her tracks.

"… Mrs. Fenwick is truly unfortunate. Her uterine wall has thinned so much. At this point, isn't she just destroying her own body?"

"What's there to feel sorry for? Haven't you heard? Her husband doesn't want children. No matter how hard she tries, it's all for nothing…"

Rosalie felt as though she'd been struck by a bolt of lightning. Her hand froze, hovering just above the door.

It all clicked. Lucian Fenwick didn't want her to have a child.

…

Lost in a fog, Rosalie made her way home and collapsed onto the bed.

Sunlight flooded the room, yet an unexpected chill lingered, sending shivers down her spine.

Without warning, the mattress dipped. The scent of alcohol and cedar lingered in the air.

Lucian embraced her from behind, his warm hands slipping under the fabric of her silk nightgown skillfully.

"Did you miss me?" he whispered.

His touch sent a tremor through her, yet all it did was freeze her heart further.

He knew she had gone to the hospital for her results, but he hadn't even bothered to ask.

"I… didn't get pregnant again," Rosalie whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Lucian's hand stopped moving.

After a heavy pause, he spoke up. "I see. This must have been hard for you."

His voice was calm, lacking any trace of emotion.

"I'll be away on business for two months. Take care of yourself. Ms. Gomez will make you some nourishing soup."

Then, his lips met Rosalie's. The kiss was unyielding, heavy with the taste of alcohol.

Rosalie didn't want to be intimate, yet she found herself unable to resist him. She had no choice but to surrender to his will.

Still, he always gave her gentle aftercare.

After helping her shower, he carried her back to bed. Cradled in his arms, they drifted off to sleep together.

Everything played out just as it had on countless nights before. The air between them was warm, intimate, and familiar.

To anyone looking in, they would have seemed like the most affectionate couple in the world.

But as Lucian's steady breathing filled the room, Rosalie lay wide awake.

Her gaze drifted to the couch, where his briefcase lay carelessly tossed.

In their seven years of marriage, she had never once gone through his things. It was an unspoken rule she followed as his wife.

But as she gazed at Lucian's resting face, Rosalie found herself slipping out of bed.

Minutes passed in silence.

Hidden under a pile of urgent papers, her fingers touched a blister pack of white tablets.

They were none other than birth control pills.

Rosalie stared at them, her mind spinning in a haze.

For the sake of conceiving, she had never used them. The only time she'd ever seen such pills was at a friend's house.

Her friend had once joked that she'd probably never need them. After all, everyone saw how loving she and Lucian were.

Nonetheless, reality hit Rosalie far too quickly.

Even though she had steeled herself at the hospital, her heart still felt like a crumbling wall.

What kind of man carried contraceptives while supposedly trying to have a child?

Could Lucian be having an affair?

Suddenly, Rosalie remembered how he often asked Penny Gomez, the maid, to make soup for her.

In an instant, a chill ran through her entire body.

As her hands quivered, a photo escaped the briefcase's inner pocket.

The edges were worn, softened by countless touches.

The photo showed a young Lucian beaming with affection, the woman beside him nestled against his side.

"What are you doing?" Lucian said sharply, stepping toward her from the bed.

He yanked the photo from her hands, his eyes piercing like a knife.

"Why are you snooping on me? Rosalie, when did you start acting so unreasonable?"

Rosalie let out a sharp, bitter laugh. It felt as though she'd just heard the world's cruelest joke.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, a sharp ache twisting deep inside her.

"How am I acting unreasonably? In fact, I've been far too reasonable for all these years—"

Her laughter was cut short by a sudden, searing pain in her abdomen.

The last thing she saw before darkness took her was Lucian's panicked face.

…

Rosalie woke with a start, the ache from moments before still shadowing her every breath.

Before she could gather her thoughts, a sharp, acrid smoke tore into her lungs, sending her into a coughing frenzy.

"There's a fire! Evacuate immediately!"

"Help!"

Amid the chaos of screaming voices, Rosalie struggled to sit up. Confused and dazed, she looked around her surroundings.

The table was a mess, with wine bottles toppled and strewn about. Strobe lights flickered and warped through the thick haze of smoke.

All of a sudden, her gaze settled on the couch just a few feet away.

There, a familiar figure lay motionless, overcome by the effects of alcohol.

It was Camelia Becker.

Hadn't she perished in that fire seven years ago?

Suddenly, a jolt of realization swept through Rosalie. She snatched up her phone from the table and glanced at the screen.

It was 10:50 pm on the 18th of May, 2025.

Rosalie's breath hitched in her chest.

Somehow, time unraveled, pulling her back seven years to the night Camelia was taken by the flames.

Could she really have come back to life?

As the fire roared around her, Rosalie dragged herself toward the door. But with every movement, a sharp, searing pain pierced through her ankle.

With a thunderous crash, the door to the private room was kicked open from the outside.

Through the suffocating smoke, a tall, commanding figure strode into the room.

His face was one she knew from a lifetime ago. After years of trust, Rosalie's hand moved instinctively toward him.

"Lucian..." she called, clinging to the hope that he would save her.

This was the Lucian she remembered from seven years ago.

His eyes still held a flicker of youthful innocence, tempered already by the quiet confidence he would one day fully embody.

"Don't be afraid. I'll get you out."

The urgency in his voice was tinged with the untamed fervor of his younger years.

Rosalie expected him to come to her without hesitation. Just as he had in her previous life, he'd hold her tight, his deep voice resonating in her ear. "Don't be scared, I'm here."

But much to her shock, Lucian's eyes lingered on her for just a moment before turning away.

Without hesitation, he strode past her and went straight to Camelia, lifting her into his arms.

As he brushed past Rosalie, he didn't even spare her a glance, coldly throwing two words over his shoulder.

"Keep up!"

With that, he carried Camelia out, never once looking back.

Rosalie's hand hung suspended in the air.

Her heart felt like it had turned to ice.

Her ankle throbbed, a painful reminder that she couldn't run.

Lucian had left her behind.

Was it because he wanted her to die in Camelia's place?

Chapter 2 Lucian Has Been Reborn as Well

The light in Rosalie's eyes gradually faded. She shut them, her heart heavy with despair.

Without warning, a powerful hand gripped her wrist. In a dizzying whirl, she was pulled into a firm embrace.

"Hold on to me!" the man called out, scooping her up by the waist.

His grip was anything but gentle. Rosalie felt as though she were nothing more than a stray cat in his hands.

But in the next moment, an explosion erupted in front of them. His strong palm cradled the back of her head, pressing it firmly against his chest.

The acrid scent of burning smoke filled her lungs, and a scorching wave of heat swept past them.

But amidst the smoke and fire, Rosalie could sense a piercing gaze on her.

It felt both foreign and curiously familiar.

The smoke stung her eyes, making them difficult to keep open.

Rosalie squinted, trying to make out the figure who had come to her aid.

Behind the firefighter's mask, she could only see two dark, impenetrable eyes staring at her.

All of a sudden, she caught a glimpse of Lucian from the corner of her vision. He was standing on safe ground, his arms wrapped around Camelia.

He held her close, as though she were a precious treasure he had finally gotten back.

In his gaze, Rosalie saw a depth of anxiety and fear she had never witnessed before.

Slowly, she closed her eyes.

A single tear traced down her cheek.

She was almost convinced now that Lucian had also been reborn.

This time, however, it was Camelia he had chosen.

In her previous life, he had saved Rosalie, causing Camelia to die in the fire.

For seven years, he kept Camelia's photo close, mourning her every day and night.

He had refused to let any other woman carry his child.

At last, he had saved the woman he loved, making up for the mistakes of his previous life.

He was probably over the moon.

Rosalie's lips twisted into a faint, mocking smile.

Perhaps this was for the best.

If fate had given them another chance, it was probably only to bring this ill-fated connection to an end.

It was time for her to let go.

With the smoke suffocating her and her emotions spiraling, Rosalie's vision blurred, and she succumbed to darkness.

Just before she lost herself completely, she thought she heard Lucian's frantic voice shouting in the distance.

"Where is she? Where's Rosalie?"

But then again, she must have gotten it wrong.

After all, Lucian's heart and mind were entirely occupied with Camelia.

What could Rosalie possibly mean to him now?

…

When Rosalie opened her eyes again, it was already morning.

As she slowly blinked awake, the first thing she saw was her mother, Abigail Clark, looking down at her with a worried expression.

"Rosa, are you awake? Do you feel any pain or discomfort?"

Rosalie's eyes instantly filled with tears. She sat up and instinctively threw herself into Abigail's arms.

"Mom… I've missed you so much…"

Thankfully, Abigail was still alive.

In her past life, that hadn't been the case.

Less than six months after Rosalie married Lucian, her parents went on a business trip.

Their private jet they were on went down amid the endless mountains, and no traces were ever found.

In the years that followed, Rosalie was left with nothing but Lucian's empty love. She never again felt even the smallest spark of warmth.

Back then, everyone's gaze was fixed on her barren womb, murmuring about her inability to conceive.

No matter how much agony her body endured or how the bitterness gnawed at her heart, she had to face it alone. There was no one she could turn to.

Many nights, she would wake up in tears, quietly wishing for Abigail to hold her once more.

All Rosalie yearned for was the comfort of her words, to hear her gentle voice assuring her that everything would be okay.

Thankfully, fate had given her a second chance.

This time, she would make sure those tragedies would never be repeated.

Abigail gently patted Rosalie's back, her voice shaking with relief and fear.

"Last night must've been terrifying for you. I'm so glad Lucian acted fast and pulled you out… I was so worried!

"My precious daughter is about to be married. If anything had happened to you, how could I possibly go on living?"

Rosalie's brows knitted together.

Last night, Lucian had rescued Camelia.

Someone else had been the one to pull Rosalie out. Lucian had no right to take the credit.

But for now, Rosalie couldn't afford to explain any of that. She gripped Abigail's hand, her voice steady and unwavering.

"Mom, I'm not marrying Lucian."

Chapter 3 My Wedding to Rosalie Must Be Called Off

"What? Why not?"

Abigail fell silent for a moment before letting out a sigh. "But the wedding's been planned, and the invitations have already gone out. How could you back out at this point?"

Rosalie buried her face in Abigail's chest, looking like a child who had been wronged. "I just can't bear to leave you, Mom."

Abigail gently combed her fingers through Rosalie's hair, her voice softening with sympathy.

"Silly girl, you've loved Lucian since you were little. Haven't you always dreamed of marrying him and building a life together? What's brought on this sudden change…?"

A bitter knot tightened in Rosalie's chest.

Abigail's words jolted her back to reality.

Since he was little, Lucian had been raised under the watchful eye of the Ashford family's elders. His talent and capability had earned him both their trust and affection.

After their engagement six months ago, her father, William Ashford, had entrusted him with significant company projects.

But how could she find the courage to tell Abigail the truth?

In Lucian's heart, there had never been a place for her.

In her past life, their marriage had been nothing more than an illusion of love and harmony.

Rosalie wasn't even permitted to bear his child. She had sacrificed her health for the chance, but all she earned was his indifference.

Her family's corporation had been devoured by him, reduced to nothing more than a stepping stone in his rise to power.

As the memories of her past life rushed back, a deep sorrow filled Rosalie's heart.

"Mrs. Ashford, Ms. Becker has arrived. Mr. Fenwick is with her," the maid, Bernice Flay, called out from just beyond the door.

Abigail assumed Lucian had come to discuss the upcoming wedding or perhaps to see how Rosalie was doing.

She gently patted Rosalie's hand. "Stop overthinking. Go wash your face and put on something nice. Let's not keep them waiting."

Rosalie frowned.

And Camelia has only just come back.

Still, it wasn't exactly surprising.

After all, Lucian had pined for her for seven long years. Now that he had finally won her back, how could he bear to let her out of his sight so soon?

Camelia was the daughter of Abigail's close friend, Gertrude Becker.

Half a year ago, she had returned from being abroad to attend Rosalie and Lucian's engagement banquet.

Afterward, she stayed at the Ashford residence, claiming she wanted to establish herself in the country.

Out of respect for her past friendship with Gertrude, Abigail had welcomed Camelia with open arms.

Over the past six months, whatever Rosalie had, Abigail made sure to set aside a portion for Camelia. Nothing was ever forgotten.

In Rosalie's past life, Abigail had broken down in grief when Camelia tragically perished in the fire. The sheer weight of her sorrow had been too much, leading her to collapse.

She had continually berated herself, feeling she had failed to safeguard her best friend's daughter.

Her guilt lingered, pressing down on her heart like a heavy, suffocating weight.

After her parents' deaths, Rosalie was left with the responsibility of managing their estate.

It was during that time that she uncovered a shocking revelation.

For years, William had been secretly transferring large sums of money overseas.

The amounts were staggering.

All that money had ultimately flowed into a single account, one that belonged to Camelia's mother, Gertrude.

Unfortunately, both Camelia and William had already passed away by that time.

The true motives behind William's actions remained a mystery, one Rosalie would never uncover before her death.

But in this life, she had to find a way to warn Abigail. It was clear now that William's loyalties had been divided long ago.

Rosalie didn't head downstairs right away.

Her ankle still throbbed, so she asked Bernice to wheel her to the upstairs corridor. From that vantage point, she gazed down at the scene below.

In the heart of the living room, Lucian stood tall, impeccably dressed in his custom-tailored suit.

His voice was cold and steady as he spoke. "Mr. and Mrs. Ashford, aside from bringing Ms. Becker back, there's something else I need to be upfront about.

"My wedding to Rosalie must be called off.

"All these years, I have only ever seen Rosalie as a younger sister. I've never felt anything romantic between us.

"The one I truly love is Camelia. I hope you both can give us your blessing."

Chapter 4 Do You Even Have a Conscience

From the second floor, Rosalie listened in silence, her lips curling into a bitter smile.

A younger sister?

For Lucian, after seven years of marriage and all the love they shared, she was nothing more than a sister.

She had already made the decision to let go, yet her heart still clenched with pain.

Downstairs, the living room was steeped in a suffocating silence.

Abigail stared at Lucian in disbelief before shifting her gaze to Camelia, standing beside him.

Camelia bit her lip, torn between guilt and helplessness.

Abigail's chest rose and fell sharply as she pointed a finger at Lucian.

"Lucian! When did this begin between you two? What exactly do you think my daughter is to you?

"Do you honestly believe you can marry on a whim and then call it off just as quickly? How dare you try to marry Camelia now!"

Abigail jabbed a finger toward Camelia, her entire body trembling with fury.

"Camelia! In the six months since you came back, has our family ever wronged you? Is this really how you repay us?

"Do you have no shame? Rosalie treated you as her own sister and introduced you to numerous opportunities and friends. How could you turn on her?

"Where's your decency? Did all those years of education teach you nothing about basic morality?"

Rosalie frowned.

She had never seen Abigail so shaken and unrestrained.

In Rosalie's eyes, Abigail had always been the epitome of grace and sophistication.

She was unfailingly polite and considerate in all her interactions.

She was never one to argue, let alone speak so harshly.

It was clear that Abigail's fury was fueled by heartbreak.

Rosalie whispered to Bernice behind her, "Take me downstairs."

In the living room, Camelia's eyes welled with tears.

Struggling to hold back her sobs, she looked at Abigail. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Ashford… I never wanted to ruin Rosalie's marriage. But feelings… They're something I can't control."

Without hesitation, Lucian stepped protectively in front of her. "This isn't Camelia's fault, Mrs. Ashford. I was the one who fell first. None of this is her doing."

Abigail let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. She turned toward William, who had been silent the entire time.

"William, say something! You're the head of this household. How do you plan to handle this?"

William gave an awkward yet polite smile. His face betrayed no hint of anger.

Clearing his throat, he replied calmly, "Abigail, there's no need to lose your temper. Let's handle this with reason."

With that, he glanced at Lucian, a flicker of admiration gleaming in his eyes.

"Lucian, this situation… came as a surprise. But when it comes to the heart, nothing is ever straightforward.

"Each generation tells its own story. You can't force a square peg into a round hole. It doesn't matter that you and Rosalie weren't meant to be. Now that you and Camelia are aligned, maybe that's simply how fate chooses to unfold. Haha."

Abigail could barely believe what she was hearing.

She glared at William, her eyes blazing with both disappointment and anger.

"William! Do you even hear yourself?

"Rosalie just lost the love of her life! As her father, why are you going on about fate instead of defending her? Do you even have a conscience?"

Abigail's reprimand broke William's composure.

"Abigail! Watch what you say! What kind of example are you setting?"

Putting on a calm front, he continued, "These are matters for the young ones. Let them sort it out. What business do we have getting involved?

"Is tearing apart two lovers and leaving a trail of disgrace really what you want? Is that what will satisfy you?"

Turning to Lucian and Camelia, his tone softened considerably.

"Don't let this pressure you too much. When it comes to love, mutual affection is what matters. I understand both of you."

Abigail pointed at William. She struggled to find the words, her rage bubbling to the surface.

Just then, the elevator doors slid open.

Rosalie emerged in her wheelchair, Bernice pushing her forward.

Chapter 5 Even if I Turn to Ash, What Does It Matter to You

"Mom."

Abigail's eyes filled with tears as she glanced at Rosalie.

Rosalie's lips curved into a gentle smile.

"Mom, there's no need to get upset. People like them aren't worth compromising your health over. It's a poor trade."

As Rosalie sat there in her wheelchair, Lucian suddenly remembered something. His voice grew tight with concern. "Is your leg okay?"

Rosalie looked at him, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Even if I turned to ash, what would it matter to you, Mr. Fenwick?"

Rosalie had always known his heart was with Camelia.

He'd even forgotten how she had hurt her foot in the first place.

Lucian's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, I know this hurts you. But my feelings for Camelia are real. I hope you'll find a way to understand and forgive my decision."

Whether it was the choice made last night by the fire or the one he was making now, the outcome remained unchanged.

Rosalie's heart broke all over again.

However, the pain had reached a point where it no longer hurt. It had simply numbed her.

She let out a bitter laugh.

"A man who can back out of a wedding at the last minute is no decent man. Lucian, let's be clear. Even if you dropped to your knees and begged me to marry you now, I wouldn't even care."

Lucian's frown deepened, his sharp gaze settling on Rosalie.

Her reaction caught him completely off guard.

He had expected her to cry, shout, demand answers, or even lash out in anger.

That was how 20-year-old Rosalie should've been—proud, fiery, and unrestrained.

He had even rehearsed how he would respond.

But rather than lose her temper, she kept her composure.

She was unsettlingly calm, like someone watching from a distance.

Her silence stirred a gnawing unease in Lucian's chest.

Could she have been granted a second chance at life as well?

Lucian's dark eyes narrowed sharply.

As he turned to Rosalie, a shadow of turmoil crossed his face.

Noticing the charged tension between them, Camelia quickly stepped forward, subtly blocking his view. Her face was clouded with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Rosalie. I never meant to hurt you. But last night, Mr. Fenwick stayed by my side. Even in his sleep, he kept calling my name. I didn't have the heart to turn him away…

"You'll forgive me, right? Can't we just go back to how things were?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes, not bothering to say a word.

Camelia stiffened, an awkward flush crossing her face.

She bit her lip, appearing even more vulnerable and wronged.

William's gaze hardened as he observed Rosalie's cold attitude toward Camelia.

"Rosalie! Our guests have waited patiently all this time. Why have you only just come downstairs? Where are your manners?" he asked sharply.

Abigail's simmering fury reignited.

"Rosalie inhaled all that smoke! Her ankle is sprained! You're her father, for heaven's sake. Since the moment she returned, have you ever once asked how she's feeling?

"It's one thing if you don't care about her, but what right do you have to stand there and scold her for being ill-mannered?"

"Ms. Flay!" she called out.

Bernice quickly approached. "Yes, Mrs. Ashford?"

Abigail's gaze hardened as it bore into Camelia.

"Since Ms. Becker never meant to settle here and has moved on so soon, we have no choice but to take action. Our humble abode is no place for someone like her.

"Clear everything from her room immediately! Not a single item is to remain!"

For the past six months, Abigail had treated Camelia with nothing but kindness.

She showered her with Celeste outfits, Vandre bags, Lumiere perfumes, and the latest jewelry.

Whenever Abigail thought something would suit Camelia, she sent it to her without hesitation.

She had even hoped that after Rosalie and Lucian's marriage, she could help Camelia find a good match of her own.

Looking back now, it all seemed like a cruel joke.

Bernice responded promptly and made her way upstairs to Camelia's room.

William stepped forward, trying to quell the rising tension. "Abigail! Haven't you made enough of a scene? Once a gift is given, how can you just throw it away like that?"

But Abigail didn't look at him. Her eyes remained fixed on Bernice, her voice steady and unwavering. "Ms. Flay, gather the other maids. Let's see who dares to defy me today."

Chapter 6 Whatever You Need From Now On I'll Provide

Bernice nodded with respect. "Yes, Mrs. Ashford."

Leading a group of maids, she moved past William and went straight upstairs.

William's face flushed with anger as he pointed at Abigail. "Y-You're being completely unreasonable!"

Nonetheless, Abigail's fierce glare broke his resolve.

He dared not challenge her any further.

The maids soon returned carrying piles of exquisite boxes and bags. Without a word, they dropped them all at Camelia's feet.

Abigail jabbed a finger at the pile. "Pack your things and leave!" she yelled.

Camelia's eyes instantly reddened, tears streaming down her cheeks.

In that moment, she appeared nothing more than a vulnerable victim, relentlessly bullied by the Ashford family.

Without hesitation, Lucian stepped in and pulled Camelia behind him.

"There's no need to go this far, Mrs. Ashford. If you can't accept Camelia, then I'll take her away myself."

After a moment's pause, he turned to Rosalie. "What happened today is my responsibility. But my decision remains unchanged."

Gripping Camelia's hand firmly, he continued, "Camelia's the one I'm meant to be with. No matter what, I won't let her go. Let's get out of here."

Without a backward glance, he pulled her along and walked away.

"What a mess this has turned into..."

William sighed and rushed after them.

"Lucian! Camelia! Wait!"

Camelia glanced back, tears still glistening in her eyes. "I'm sorry for causing you trouble, Mr. Ashford."

William's chest tightened with guilt as he looked at her. "Don't say that. None of this is your fault."

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Remember our agreement, Camelia. Be at the office on time next Monday. The position of Director of the Technical Department is waiting for you."

Camelia nodded obediently. "I won't forget, Mr. Ashford. Thank you."

As Lucian and Camelia passed through the gates of the Ashford residence, a sudden commotion broke out behind them.

The gift boxes and shopping bags the maids had carried downstairs moments ago were being tossed out.

Several boxes split open, their contents spilling onto the pavement.

Camelia glanced back.

The jewelry and accessories she had treasured over the past six months now lay strewn about like trash.

Her face twisted with a mix of humiliation and sadness.

Lucian's gaze shifted to the scattered belongings.

He pulled Camelia close and whispered, "Don't pay them any mind. Whatever you need from now on, I'll provide. Those items mean nothing."

Inside the living room, Abigail clung to Rosalie, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

"Rosa, this is entirely my fault. I was blind to the truth and misjudged those around me. I can't believe I let you endure such pain. It's all on me..."

Rosalie gently patted Abigail's back.

More than Lucian's betrayal, what wounded Abigail deeply was Camelia's ingratitude.

After all, she had truly cared for Camelia throughout these past six months.

"Mom, please don't blame yourself. This isn't on you. Some people are just heartless. No matter how much kindness you show them, they'll never appreciate it."

At that moment, William entered the room, his face clouded with displeasure.

He didn't spare a single glance at Abigail and Rosalie.

With a cold snort, he walked straight into the study.

"Mom… Don't you think Dad seems a bit off today?" Rosalie asked.

Abigail was quick to defend William. "He's probably just concerned about offending Lucian," she said, though the uncertainty in her voice was unmistakable.

Rosalie let out a bitter laugh.

William had started from nothing. It was only thanks to Abigail's family that he had come this far.

But even after all these years, he hadn't managed to outgrow his old, stubborn habits.

Deep down, Rosalie had always suspected he was hiding something.

"Mom," she pressed on, "even if Dad is trying to keep the peace with the Fenwicks, that still doesn't justify him turning his back on his own daughter just to protect an outsider, does it?"