Housekeeper Win stood frozen, her legs refusing to move, immobilized by the chilling words Valentine Anderson had just uttered.
Valentine, noticing her hesitation, frowned deeply and commanded, "Housekeeper Win, I am the master of this house. Are you going to defy me?"
Although she felt slighted by his tone, Housekeeper Win knew her position and, swallowing her indignation, replied, "I will gather additional help immediately," before hastily exiting the art collection room.
Valentine didn't wait for the additional staff; he started packing the items into cartons and moving them out himself. By the time Housekeeper Win returned with ten more people, he had already boxed everything.
"Make sure everything is taken out," Valentine ordered coldly, following the household staff as they carried the cartons outside.
He set the cartons ablaze and watched as they burned to ashes, an expression of grim satisfaction on his face. As he turned to go back inside, his eyes fell on the children's playground in the courtyard—a structure he hadn't noticed the night before.
Curious, he asked Housekeeper Win, whose expression was somber, "Was it Andrea who built the children's playground?"
Fearing another destructive command, she quickly replied, "Sir Valentine, the playground belongs to Pete."
Hoping to appeal to his better nature by mentioning his son, she underestimated his jealousy.
"Who constructed it?" Valentine pressed, his frown deepening.
Housekeeper Win hesitated, sensing his growing irritation with each passing second. Finally, she responded anxiously, "Sir Valentine, Lucas built the playground for Young Master Pete, hoping to give him a joyful childhood filled with friends. Please consider your son's happiness and spare the playground."
Valentine snapped back, "What my son needs is a proper education to enhance his skills and knowledge, not frivolous playtime and friends."
Without another word, he commanded the household staff, "Tear down the playground. We're going to burn it."
Housekeeper Win's eyes widened in shock; she hadn't anticipated Valentine's extreme resolve to erase anything associated with Lucas Anderson from the mansion.
"Sir Valentine," she pleaded, her voice laced with urgency.
"Ignore her. Pour the fuel," Valentine instructed the servants, dismissing her plea outright.
As the mansion filled with the acrid smell of smoke and burning, Housekeeper Win beseeched him desperately, "Sir Valentine, please reconsider. Preserving the playground could bridge the gap between you and your son. Please, think of Pete!"
Valentine shot her a fierce glare and bellowed, "I don't need his favors to bond with my son! Pete is my child, and I know what’s best for him."
Housekeeper Win shuddered, taken aback by Valentine Anderson's irrational behavior. Despite her reluctance to involve others, she realized she had no other choice but to call Andrea, the only person who could stop this chaos.
The phone barely rang twice before Andrea's voice emerged from the speaker, "Mrs. Win, what's the problem? Why are you calling me?"
Panting with anxiety, Housekeeper Win replied urgently, "Ma'am Andrea, you need to come home immediately, or the whole mansion might be burnt!"
From the other end, Andrea's voice was laced with shock, "Who would want to burn down the mansion? Win, can you please clarify?"
Just as Valentine was about to ignite the playground, Win blurted out, "It's Sir Valentine—he's about to burn down Pete's playground that Lucas built!"
"What!" Andrea exclaimed in disbelief.
The call ended abruptly with a beep, and Win paced nervously as smoke began to rise from the playground. Valentine Anderson's actions made it clear to her that any hope of Andrea and Pete living happily with him was futile.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned and walked back into the house, filled with regret. If only she had called Andrea sooner, perhaps this disaster could have been averted.
As Valentine Anderson watched the playground burn down to ashes, Andrea's car pulled up to the Singers' mansion. She stepped out, visibly furious, her hair disheveled. The sight of the mansion engulfed in smoke and the acrid smell of burning sent her into a fit of rage.
"Valentine!" she shrieked hysterically.
Turning around, Valentine greeted her with a disarming smile. "Honey, you're back early. I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I didn't mean it. You're so faithful to me, and you deserve the best. I'm ready to give you that."
Andrea, overwhelmed by anger, found herself speechless. In a swift motion, she raised her hand and slapped him across the face, screaming, "My biggest mistake was giving you another chance, forcing you to come back. You were better off gone!"
Valentine's expression darkened as he retorted angrily, "Andrea, do you want to keep living with him as husband and wife? Have you fallen in love with him?"
Her response was icy and filled with rage. "Yes, he's a million times better than you. He wouldn’t burn down a mansion out of jealousy. He's more reasonable. You are petty and cause me nothing but pain and anguish."
Valentine recoiled, his face a mask of pain as Andrea’s words cut deep. He staggered back, his eyes dimming and his arms trembling from the emotional blow. Tears began to stream down his face as he cried out, "Andrea, it hurts so badly. I don't look the same anymore, my son doesn't look like me, and you don't want me. I’m sorry for re-entering your life. I couldn't bear to see him around you. My jealousy is because I love you so much."
With those words, he turned and walked dejectedly towards his car, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his heartbreak.