"I may return to Swynborough. My family's business is there, beyond others "reach."

Henley's feigned serenity masked emotions Raegan couldn't decipher.

She felt a deep sorrow and repeated her apology.

Henley's smile softened.

“Don't blame yourself. Think of it as me going back to claim my inheritance. Does that ease your mind?"

Raegan mused that Henley should have claimed his inheritance earlier, not under duress.

“Raegan, would you like to go with me?" Henley inquired suddenly.

"Me?" Raegan said, taken aback.

While her original intention was to further study in Swynborough, it felt unusual to travel alongside Henley. They were nothing more than friends and classmates, after all.

"Why?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

Henley harbored his own rationale. His father's company overseas was soon to be his responsibility, and he considered it opportune to take Raegan with him before leaving this city.

In the realm of looks, Henley differed markedly from Mitchel. Each had their distinct appeals, defying direct comparison.

Status-wise, Mitchel might not be a match for him abroad.

Winning over a woman should be within his grasp, he surmised.

Yet, a reluctant acknowledgment gnawed at him. He found himself increasingly invested in Raegan, a realization that soured his mood.

To him, women held little value, a sentiment rooted in the disdain for his mother.

His mother had given birth to him, only to neglect and mistreat him as if he were a mere plaything.

So, when she Lay dying from her excesses, he shed no tears, nor did he summon help.

Instead, he observed, impassive, as she struggled through her final moments.

Masking his inner turmoil, Henley offered a justification, "I sense you're not content at home."