Daniel’s eyes flashed with anger. “No right? You forfeited any privacy the moment you laid a hand on her. You should have known I’d find out about your indiscretions sooner or later. I hoped you’d choose a better path. Clearly, I was mistaken.”

Anna, still shaken, found strength in her father’s presence. The shame and hurt gave way to a small spark of hope. Her father’s intervention was a lifeline she hadn’t expected but desperately needed.

Michael’s bravado faltered. He could feel the weight of judgment pressing down from all sides—from the spectators, from Daniel, and from his own conscience. The image he had crafted for years was crumbling, and he was rapidly losing control of the narrative.