Charlotte lowered her head, her breath hitching in apprehension. She remained stony-faced and silent. She didn’t dare mention that it was Wesley who had bypassed the rules to recruit her—and she certainly wasn’t bold enough to disclose that Wesley, her father’s former subordinate, had only hired her with the most lecherous of intentions.

"I recruited her myself," Zachary blurted out, his voice smooth and placid.

"Shut up!" Old Mr. Nacht glowered at him, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple. "I am speaking to her!"

"Fine." Zachary lapsed into a strategic silence. However, he reached out and pointedly pulled out the chair next to him, beckoning for Charlotte to sit.

Charlotte stole a quick, terrified glance at the Old Master and remained standing, her legs feeling like lead. Seeing Zachary act so protectively toward her, Sharon’s face contorted; she was practically green with jealousy.

"Sit," Old Mr. Nacht finally commanded with a deceptive air of graciousness.

Only then did Charlotte lower herself into the chair. She kept her head down, staring at the polished wood of the table, not daring to spark another confrontation. When a maid moved to set a place for her with fresh silver and crystal, Charlotte whispered urgently, "It’s okay. I... I have to leave."

"Did I give you permission to leave?" Old Mr. Nacht demanded, his arrogance filling the room.

Charlotte froze and looked up, meeting his stern gaze.

"In this world, everyone must know their place." Old Mr. Nacht reached out, took a single slice of dry bread from a basket, and tossed it onto the table in front of Charlotte. "It is just like this bread. It can serve as an appetizer to tantalize the taste buds, but it can never be the main dish."

"Well said, Grandpa." Sharon beamed with delight, turning a provocative smirk toward Charlotte. "Of course, for those who crawl out of the slums, a few dry slices of bread are often all the 'sustenance' they can hope for."

Zachary’s brow furrowed, but he remained silent, watching the scene play out like a dark theater piece.

Finally, after taking a long, stabilizing breath, Charlotte looked Sharon dead in the eye and let out a soft, cold snicker. "And what do you regard yourself as, Ms. Blackwood? The 'main course' on a wealthy man’s table? Is that not just a piece of steak waiting to be sliced and consumed as well?"

"You...!" Sharon gasped, finding no immediate rebuttal for the stinging comparison.

"Mr. Nacht," Charlotte turned her focus to the Old Master, her voice low, steady, and unexpectedly dignified. "The bread never wanted to appear on your dining table in the first place. It was perfectly content staying in the bakery, where people who truly liked it would cherish it. It’s a shame that someone took it by force and brought it here to serve as an appetizer. I don’t think you should blame the bread. The man who insisted on dragging it here should be held liable instead."

Zachary’s eyes squinted, a dangerous and shrewd glint flickering in the depths of his pupils as he turned to look at the woman beside him.

"How dare you!" Old Mr. Nacht bellowed, slamming his hand on the table. "Are you implying that my grandson is the one pestering you?"

"Shameless!" Sharon shrieked, her composure finally shattering. She couldn't bear the public acknowledgement that the man she coveted was the one chasing after a "nobody."

"The truth is, I have never hounded him," Charlotte said, seizing the moment to state her stance clearly. "If you dislike my presence here, you can simply tell him never to seek me out again. I would be more than happy to comply."

She had reached her limit. She was tired of Sharon’s insults and tired of being bullied. And now, another Mr. Nacht had arrived to pile on the misery. If Zachary continued to harass her after this, she had made it clear where the fault lay.

"Did you hear that?" Old Mr. Nacht turned a thunderous look toward his grandson.

"I heard." Zachary nodded slowly. He picked up a wine glass, quaffing the contents in one elegant motion. Then, he spoke with an imperturbable calm: "She’s right. Indeed, it was me who dominated her, pestered her, and controlled her."

He used the three terms consecutively, his voice rhythmic and deliberate. The confession was so blunt it felt like a physical blow to everyone in the room.

Charlotte gaped at him in total disbelief. Did he really just admit that? In front of his grandfather, his fiancée, and all the staff? Has he no sense of shame?

Sharon sat frozen, her mouth slightly agape. The world she had carefully constructed was being torn down by the very man she wanted to rule it with.

"You..." Old Mr. Nacht’s face darkened instantly. He clutched at his chest, pointing a trembling finger at Zachary. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"Relax, Grandpa." Zachary leaned back in his chair, a cold, mocking smile playing on his lips. "Isn't it common for men of our status to have seven or eight lovers on the side? It shouldn't matter to you—as long as the woman I actually marry is the one you’ve chosen."