Chapter 220
Ever since Khloe had been involved in Pete’s upbringing, the child had remained difficult to manage.
At first, she had tried to guide him patiently—reason, explanation, soft correction.
But Pete was stubborn. He resisted discipline and rarely took instruction seriously.
Once, when Khloe had enforced strict rules, Trey had stepped in to stop her, telling her the boy was still too young and didn’t need such harsh correction.
Now, looking back, Trey realized something he hadn’t wanted to admit.
Khloe had been right.
A child’s temperament wasn’t formed in isolation—it reflected the adults around him.
Pete had inherited stubbornness from him… and the same disregard for boundaries from Angela.
How many times had he warned that toy guns weren’t to be used indoors or pointed at people?
And yet every time, Pete repeated the same behavior.
Trey’s hand tightened around his son’s.
“Pete,” he said, his voice low and firm, “what did Daddy tell you about toy guns?”
Pete hesitated, then answered in a small voice, “Not to play with them indoors… and not to point them at people.”
“Then why did you do it again?”
The child froze.
His eyes flickered nervously before darting toward Angela, silently asking for help.
Angela stepped in immediately.
“Alright, alright,” she said lightly, reaching out to pull Pete away. “Just tell Daddy you won’t do it again. He’s still small; there’s no need to be so serious.”
Her tone was casual, dismissive—as if it were nothing at all.
Trey didn’t let her take him.
His grip remained firm.
“It’s because you always protect him like this that he keeps crossing the line.”
Before Angela could respond, Trey lifted Pete’s hand.
And struck his palm.
The sound was sharp.
Pete froze for half a second—then burst into loud, terrified sobs.
He had never been hit like this by Trey before.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
The child struggled, panic replacing everything else.
Angela’s expression changed instantly.
“Pete!”
She rushed forward, trying to pull him away.
But Trey’s anger had already surged.
He lifted Pete and carried him to the sofa, pressing him down firmly before delivering several firm strikes to his backside.
“Mommy! Help me! Mommy!”
Pete cried hysterically, reaching out toward Angela.
Angela grabbed Trey from behind, trying to stop him.
“Trey! Are you insane?” she cried. “It’s just a child—do you really need to go this far?”
Only after a few moments did Trey finally stop.
He released Pete.
Angela immediately pulled the child into her arms, rocking him gently.
“It’s okay… it’s okay… Mommy’s here…”
But Trey said nothing.
He just looked at the scene.
The way Angela soothed him instantly.
Due to the lack of boundaries.
At the cycle repeating itself.
His mother was right.
With Angela raising him like this, Pete would never learn discipline.
If anything—
The only person who might truly shape him properly… was Khloe.
The thought left a bitter taste in his chest.
Without another word, Trey loosened his tie, turned, and went straight to the bathroom.
He turned the water cold.
Ice-cold.
And stood beneath it until his skin turned numb and his breathing tightened.
Only then did he step out.
When he returned to the room, Angela was sitting on the sofa waiting.
Pete had already been taken away by the servants and sent back to bed.
But Angela’s expression was still tense.
Trey ignored her, changing his clothes silently.
He reached for his coat.
“I’m leaving.”
Angela stood up immediately.
“You’re not staying tonight?”
Trey didn’t look at her.
“I have an early meeting. It’s better to go back.”
Angela stepped in front of him.
“You’ve been cold for days,” she said sharply. “If you’re upset, just say it. Don’t shut me out—and don’t use Pete as an excuse.”
That finally snapped something in him.
Trey’s gaze turned icy.
“Using Pete as an excuse?”
His voice dropped.
“Angela, look at what you’re doing to him.”
“He has no discipline, no boundaries, no sense of right and wrong.”
“You’ve pushed my mother into illness and turned this house upside down.”
He took a step closer.
“Tell me—who exactly is making excuses here?”