His father's mistress

She had lost weight. He would think when reminded of how thin she had felt in his arms last night. 

She had improved her disguise by another notch. She has not been looking at him. Did she have her breakfast? What was she thinking being here in a place like this? Where was Angel? 

The calmer he had seemed, the more chaotic it had been in his mind. He could not even bear to see Daisy lift a spoon in front of him and here she was doing all this work as a maid, his heart was in ruins. 

But amidst the chaos, he did not fail to notice the abrupt change in Daisy's behavior. He watched as her fingers curled into fists till her knuckles turned pale. And this change was caused by the laughter that was reverberating in this living room. 

The laughter of his father's new mistress. 

Since the moment Ryle had stepped inside this mansion, he had not expressed his interest in anything around here. He had not bothered to stop and stare.