Maggie felt deeply wronged. "Mom, I've said it before, I was right. Yana broke the law, so she must face the consequences."

"You're still insisting you're right!"

Enraged, Drake scanned the surroundings, seized a stick from the ground, and swung it toward Maggie.

Taken aback, Karl intervened swiftly. "Mr. Shear, let's discuss this calmly. Please, drop the stick."

“Move, or you'll get hit too!" Drake yelled furiously.

Witnessing her father about to strike Karl, Maggie hastily pulled him away, her heart heavy with distress and indignation.

“Dad, are you really going to hurt me?" she questioned, feeling hurt and neglected. After all, she was his own daughter. How could she be less important than her uncle's daughter?

“You deserve this! You've ruined everything good we had. I'll punish you as if you were never my daughter!"

Drake raised the stick, poised to strike.

“Stop! How dare you Lay a hand on her?"

A frigid voice sliced through the air, sending a shiver down Maggie's spine.

How had he found her here?

Clad in a sleek black overcoat, Sanford strode purposefully toward Maggie, his imposing figure casting an aura of intimidation.

His long strides whipped up gusts of frigid wind, accentuated by the somber elegance of his attire.

He approached Maggie, his gaze sweeping over her hand firmly holding Karl. With a rigid face, he pulled her to his side.

Karl took a look at his hand but said nothing.

Drake, caught off guard by Sanford's sudden appearance, awkwardly lowered his raised stick and greeted him, "Mr. Robles."

Sanford's sharp, cold glance swept over him in response.

The murmurs of the onlookers intensified as they noticed the arrival of Sanford.

Among them, Cyrus, who had been observing the scene with mild amusement, now wore a mask of curiosity.