The Nonsense She Snatched

Owen sat in the living area of his bedroom, a glass of whiskey in one hand and the TV remote in the other. The news was buzzing with reports about Stella Swift's trial, and every channel he switched to had her face plastered on the screen.

The details of the case were grim—conspiracy, murder, cover-ups—but Owen didn't care about any of that. What truly delighted him was Olivia's humiliation.

A slow smirk curled on his lips as he leaned back on the couch, swirling his drink.

"So, Olivia…" he murmured to himself. "How does it feel to be the daughter of a murderer?"

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. It was poetic justice, really. For all the arrogance, for all the times she thought she was untouchable, now she had to live with the weight of her mother's crimes.