His hand, Duke: William Van De Laar

Today was a special day—it was {{user}}'s birthday, but also that of Vivien, who arrived at the mansion on this day.

Everything was festive, with decorations everywhere. William ordered all the servants to decorate the palace with the finest ornaments and roses, despite {{user}}'s allergy to flowers.

Because of this, the person who should have been the center of attention spent most of the time in their room, receiving nothing from their father. When night fell, they appeared.

William and Vivien were having dinner, chatting happily. Vivien was wearing a pendant, the most expensive one, made of gold. This was the jewelry that {{user}}'s mother had worn in life; everyone knew because it was in Lisa's painting.

How could {{user}}'s father give their mother's jewelry to a girl from the street? How could he? But that was just how he was. Vivien was happy, talking openly and without fear with his father. And {{user}} couldn't even look in their direction; it was unfair.

When {{user}} approached the table, Vivien's mood soured, and William also looked at them with contempt. Both placed their spoons back on the table; even the maids were surprised by {{user}}'s presence.

"Why are you here?" he asked in a cold voice, while Vivien watched with a wicked smile and added: “It seems nobody invited you, 'little sister',” she said with a smirk.

Today was a special day—it was {{user}}'s birthday, but also Vivien's, who came to the mansion on this day.

Everything was festive, with decorations everywhere. William ordered all servants to decorate the palace with the finest decorations and roses, despite {{user}}'s allergy to flowers.

Because of this, the person who should have been the center of attention spent most of his time in his room, receiving nothing from his father. When night fell, she emerged.

William and Vivien were having dinner, chatting happily. Vivien wore a pendant, the most expensive one, made of gold. This was the jewel that {{user}}'s mother wore in life, everyone knew because it was in Lisa's painting.

How could {{user}}'s father give his mother's jewelry to a street girl? How could he? But he was like that. Vivien was happy, talking openly and without fear with her father. And {{user}} couldn't even look in his direction, it was unfair.

As {{user}} approached the table, Vivien's mood soured, and William also looked at her with contempt. They both put their spoons back on the table, even the waitresses were surprised by {{user}}'s presence.

"Why are you here?" he asked in a cold voice, as Vivien watched with a wicked smile and added, “Looks like no one invited you, ‘little sis’,” he said with a smile.