Chapter 1372
They clearly knew that she had been to Area Opaca and what she had experienced there, yet they
could still hide it from her as if nothing had happened.
They spun a story that it was her resemblance to Emilia that caught their attention. But Eleanor knew it
was a lie; they had seen her in the Area Opaca first and followed her trail from there.
How could they come to her, weaving lies and half-truths, and expect her to embrace them as kin?
And there was more… For half a year, Bernard had been consumed by his investigation into the origins
of Area Opaca, leaving Eleanor to fend for herself. Caleb had even lost his life in that damn place.
How could they commit such atrocities and then show up on her doorstep, expecting her to face
Katherine as if nothing had happened? Clutching the golden leaf in her hand, Eleanor felt her heart turn
to stone, her emotions a mix of disappointment and rage.
While she was wrestling with her fury and contemplating her next move, footsteps approached. The
study door swung open, revealing a figure clad in a crisp white suit.
Yates, having failed to find Eleanor downstairs, had guessed she might be here. His eyes flicked to the
family tree sprawled beside her, a hint of exasperation on his face. Peterson, that damn brat, dared to
send Eleanor here.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtWith a silent sigh, Yates maintained his composure and stepped forward to take the shimmering gold
leaf from her grasp.
“I won’t deny it since you’ve found out,” he said, his voice calm as he settled into the chair behind the
desk. “But I must clarify something. I didn’t know of your existence until after you left Area Opaca. The
ordeal you and your husband went through there-it’s not on me.”
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His point was plain—the Area Opaca was his creation, his enterprise, and it had nothing to do with
Eleanor. He wouldn’t have let her anywhere near it had he known about her sooner. But it was only
after she left that he discovered her connection to the family, and that’s when he chose to deceive and
conceal the truth, all to facilitate a smooth homecoming for her.
Understanding his words, Eleanor managed to steady her emotions and took a seat across from Yates,
their eyes locking over the expanse of the desk..
“Even if that’s the case,” she said evenly, “you should never have allowed Peterson to lie to me.”
Yates looked at her with the indulgent gaze one reserves for a child. “Darling, the things I’ve done are
far from honorable. How could I possibly expose you to such darkness? And with your friend’s
misfortune within the Area Opaca, how else could I have convinced you to return and claim your rightful
place in the family?”
At his lofty justification, Eleanor could only scoff.
“Do you really think that by deceitfully bringing me back here to add my name to some book, I would
acknowledge you?”
In her clear eyes, Yates saw a wariness, the kind reserved for the truly wicked. To Eleanor, he was
nothing short of a demon.
For a fleeting moment, Yates’ eyes darkened-not in anger toward Eleanor, but in frustration at
Peterson’s misplaced compassion that had spoiled his plans. “Eleanor Sharp,” he began, using her
formal name, “I’m sorry that upon your return to the Sharp family, you’ve encountered a less than
flattering image of your grandfather. I take responsibility for that. But…” He paused, drawing a
photograph from the desk drawer and sliding it across the table towards her. “Do you know how your
grandmother
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died?”
Without a word, Eleanor’s icy gaze remained fixed on Yates, her mind racing on how she could contact
Bernard and inform him the true mastermind behind the Area Opaca.
“She was tormented and killed by the Siren Organization.”
Yates continued, oblivious to Eleanor’s thoughts.
“She was… raped until she was broken. By the time I found her, her body was just… a shell.”
His voice cracked, eyes reddening with old rage, while Eleanor felt a jolt of shock. Her grandmother
had died such a horrific death?
“I sat there, holding what was left of her, for three days and nights until I could gather the strength to
seek vengeance,” Yates confessed, his fists clenching on the desk.
“I swore I’d wipe the Siren Organization from the face of the earth, no matter the cost.”.
The warmth in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a chilling resolve.
“The Area Opaca’s games of life and death-they were trials for my retribution. Each gambler’s demise
was a step toward perfecting the tools I’d use to exact revenge on the Siren Organization.”
And there it was-the awful truth laid bare. Yates was consumed by a vendetta, and the Area Opaca
was his arena of judgment.
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