Chapter Eighteen

~Florence (Gunther's mother)~

The past does indeed repeat itself. I never imagined that my worst dread would return to haunt me again.

In this instance, it was that woman with cerulean eyes, flowing red hair, and a grating aura.

She was a bête noire. The bane in my son's existence.

It was still fresh in my memory, the day Gunther had brought her to this mansion for the first time, four years ago.

Back then, that woman was so young.

She was just fifteen. Gunther was twenty-three.

They were eight years apart in age, a tremendous gap making their relationship forbidden in my eyes.

I didn't like her from the start, for this, among other reasons.

Not to mention that she was from a poor background, and hailed from a low-income family.

She wears clothing that resembles rags, smells like cheap perfume, and lacks grace and finesse.

No matter what she does, she could never match our level.

So, I loathed what they had. Detested and cursed her to death for stealing my son away from me.