The Billionaire Who Stole My Heart (Brittany and Isaac) novel Chapter 1192

The butler supported Eltham back to his room, while Hestia whipped up a hangover cure, a steaming cup of strong black coffee with a dash of honey, just about to deliver it when she was stopped by the butler.

“Ms. Bennett, I'll take care of it. You should get some rest.”

The butler wasn't fond of Brittany.

Nor did he have any respect for Hestia.

Plainly speaking, he believed Eltham deserved the finest woman in the world.

In his eyes, Hestia, coming from a humble background, even with a daughter, still wasn't fit for high society.

Hestia's eagerness to please Eltham was, in his view, a mere chase after a status upgrade.

The butler knew exactly what game Hestia was playing, pretending to care with her hangover remedy.

“Alright.”

Hestia felt as if she had been slapped across the face. Her cheeks burning, she handed over the coffee and headed to Twila's room.

Twila had already drifted off to sleep.

The scars on her wrists were glaringly visible.

The doctors had said the damage was severe, and even with reconstructive surgery, playing the piano was out of the question.

Twila had her moments of tears and tantrums over this, but eventually, she had to let go.

Watching her daughter's frail figure, Hestia felt a surge of resentment for the first time.

If only she had been stronger, could she have protected Twila from harm?

Eltham had a restless night, with the butler by his side the entire time.

Only at dawn, when Eltham finally fell into a deep sleep, did the butler step out, instructing the staff to be extra attentive and not let anyone take advantage of the situation.

After the butler left, the staff guarded the door.

Hestia emerged from Twila's room and asked a servant, “Is Eltham feeling better?”

“Yes, much better.”

Hestia nodded, tempted to check on him, but the servant’s stance didn’t invite further action, so she reluctantly backed off.

Eltham, indifferent to Hestia’s presence, simply said, “Let’s have breakfast.”

At the breakfast table, the butler greeted them warmly and served Eltham a bowl of chicken broth, “Sir, please have some broth to settle your stomach.”

Eltham thanked him.

The Queen glanced at Hestia, then as if recalling something, asked, “And Twila?”

“Twila’s awake. She said she’s not hungry.”

Lately, Twila had been refusing to eat, surviving only on nutritional supplements. Hestia tried persuading her, but to no avail due to her young age and stubbornness.

“How have you been raising her? What’s with this absurd fasting?”

“I’m sorry, I have failed to raise Twila properly.”

Hestia dared not speak up.

The Queen seemed to remember something, “Your and your daughter’s presence here, given your status, has always been... inconvenient for the royal household.”