Burn Me Once, Burn With Me novel Chapter 522

“Aunt Frieda! Uncle!”

Hanley quickly composed himself, smoothing his expression into a beaming smile as he strode over to greet the group.

Frieda hurried behind him, unable to contain her excitement as she closed the distance.

The elderly woman’s eyes misted with tears, her gaze locked on Frieda as they stood now just an arm’s length apart.

“Frieda… is it really you?”

Even with her family right in front of her, Frieda could hardly believe she wasn’t dreaming.

“You left the Steele family a long time ago. Now Ruby’s grown up, and we’re only here in Quinborough to see her. We heard she’d be coming, so we thought we’d join her for a visit, that’s all.”

The old man recovered from his earlier emotions in an instant, his stern face unreadable, radiating quiet authority.

At his words—“left the Steele family”—the elderly woman shot him an exasperated glance. After all the trouble it took to come see the child, here he was putting on airs again.

That same phrase caught in Frieda’s throat, turning her longing into silence. She opened her mouth, but found herself utterly speechless.

Seeing the tension rise, Hanley stepped in quickly to smooth things over.

“Aunt Frieda, Uncle, Frieda’s thought of you both all these years. It’s not easy to meet again—let’s not dwell on the past. Since you’re here for Ruby, why don’t we go inside? It’s tiring just standing around.”

He spoke gently, his words considerate and gentlemanly.

But the old man ignored Hanley entirely, turning instead to Ruby. “Well, Ruby? What do you think? Shall we head in?”

Ruby’s eyes widened, startled to be addressed so kindly. She’d just begun to recover from her earlier shock.

“Me?” she stammered, clearly surprised.

With Hanley and Frieda, Ruby had always been distant—often scolded for her attitude and accused of disrespect. But with the elderly couple, she’d always been the picture of respect, considering herself just the junior in the family. She never expected to be asked for her opinion first.

“Of course, dear. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have come,” the elderly woman said, her face breaking into a warm smile as she waited for Ruby’s answer—perhaps prompted by her husband’s earlier words.

Hanley was half a head taller, but looking down at that stern, timeworn face, he instinctively bowed a little—just as he’d done over twenty years ago, humbly begging to marry Frieda.

The old man’s anger boiled over. With a swift swing, he brought his cane down hard on Hanley’s shin. “Ruby is your daughter, and you talk about cutting ties with her? Hanley, when you were starting out, the Steele family never turned its back on you. Is this how you treat our family’s children?”

His voice thundered with authority, leaving no room for argument.

Hanley yelped in pain, but seeing the old man’s glare, he clenched his teeth and held his tongue.

To be scolded in front of Ruby and Sylas—it dredged up all the old memories, shame and frustration welling in his chest. But he couldn’t lash out as he might have in the past; he could only lower his head and endure it, silently grinding his teeth in humiliation.

The Steele family’s children? Even if Ruby had cut ties with him, she was still a Grayson by blood. Yet in their mouths, she was only ever a Steele. The Steeles—proud and self-righteous, unchanged after all these years.

“Sir! Ruby’s been rebellious—she’s hurt her sister, caused trouble for the family, and brought us no end of disgrace. I was only trying to discipline her. She’s my daughter. How could I ever truly cut her off?”

Hanley looked up, his eyes now fixed squarely on Ruby.