Chapter 1159
Flanked by her entourage, Maxine glided forward, her veil swaying lightly. Her voice carried a trace of amusement.
“After all these years, you’ve finally shown your face.”
Miguel stood frozen, his jaw tight, his body coiled with tension. She studied him calmly, a faint sigh escaping her lips.
“You’ve done well, Miguel. Still as talented as ever. What a pity you were born a man. If you were a woman, I’d have made you my successor.”
Her words sliced deep, reopening old wounds. The Griffiths family’s twisted matriarchal rule had haunted Miguel since childhood. Hearing her mock him with it now shattered his restraint. His fury exploded, raw and blinding, swallowing every trace of control he had left.
“Maxine, don’t bring up that damned heirship again!” Miguel bellowed, fury raw in his voice. “The Griffiths family’s ancestors wrote that only daughters inherit. That rule has choked the men of this family for generations. We were raised like beasts behind bars, denied even the smallest freedoms. Who came up with such a twisted law?”
He gave a harsh, humorless laugh.
“Maxine, you lucked out being born a woman. If you were a man like me, do you really think you’d be standing here, telling me what to do?”
Maxine nodded, a faint smile on her lips. She felt the truth of his words. Had she been born male, the Griffiths family would never have given her the right to lead. Her sharp mind and talents would have only earned her tighter chains.
Miguel proved that. Gifted and proud, he had been muzzled by the family since childhood. Maxine knew every wound he’d nursed through the years. He had never been one to bite his tongue and bear it. Only his love for Rita had kept him bound to the Griffiths family in the shadows.
After Rita fled, his temper and ambition had broken loose. He had not just survived the betrayal—he had capitalized on it. He had forged his own realm and become a force that threatened the Griffiths family’s power. She respected his skill—but she could not forgive it.
The Griffithses showed no mercy to traitors, and they were especially ruthless with men who turned their backs. The sentence for such betrayal was death. So she would kill Miguel. It might happen today. The ancestors’ law was clear. As head of the family, she had to carry it out.
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“Miguel, I know every grievance you hold. I understand them. But what choice do you have? You were born a Griffiths. Obedience is the fate that comes with that name,” Maxine said, voice steady.
“To hell with fate!” Miguel snapped, fury flaring. “Why should you write my fate just because I was born into this family? Bah!”
The man who once moved with noble grace spat on the floor—an ugly sign of how agitated he’d become.
Maxine remained perfectly still, her gaze fixed on him with a hint of pity.
“As your aunt, I admire your brilliance. But I am the Griffiths family’s head. I must uphold our ancestors’ laws without mercy. Miguel, you will die by my hand. Before that, you may name one last wish. I will try to grant it.”
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