Chapter 71

• Donald's POV
• ​Upstairs, the servants are still frantically sweeping up the priceless shards of my ruined art collection, but downstairs, the absolute lack of tension makes my blood boil. Rosalina has the nerve to sit there at the dining table, completely calm and unbothered, elegantly eating breakfast alongside my mother as if she hadn't just committed a domestic assault in my bedroom.
• ​My mother had obviously heard the loud, structural crashing noises echoing from my master suite earlier, but she hadn't made a single move to come up the stairs to check on me. Instead, she had merely flagged down a passing housemaid with a calm wave of her hand.