Chapter 42

Scarlett's POV

Midnight descended, and as the medication wore off, the pain in my back intensified.

I opened my eyes, staring at the unfamiliar hospital ceiling.

The maid assigned to look after me had fallen asleep in the armchair in the corner, emitting soft snores.

I struggled to sit up, finding even the simple task of getting a glass of water extraordinarily difficult. After several minutes of effort, I barely managed to get out of bed.

Just straightening my back nearly cost me half my life.

Having finally poured a little hot water, just as I brought it to my lips, my phone rang.

My heart trembled as I hurried to answer.

The number had no contact name saved, yet it was branded in my memory like an imprint.

Answering anxiously, I was careful to keep my voice low to avoid waking the maid.

"I heard you were injured?" came the indifferent voice from the other end.

"Yes," I managed to respond.

The person immediately became alert. "Not convenient to talk?"

"That's right." I nervously glanced at the sleeping maid.

"Very well, I'll keep it brief. Are you and Alexander..."

Before they could finish, a cold bead of sweat rolled from my forehead onto the bedsheet.

The voice on the other end suddenly raised in pitch: "Scarlett, remember... we have an agreement. If you cannot fulfill your responsibilities, I can arrange for someone else to do so. Correspondingly, our mutual promises may not necessarily be honored!"

"I understand!" I whispered urgently.

The person's words were like commands to me, a sword hanging over my neck.

They chuckled lightly, a sound that sent chills down my spine: "At least you're obedient, unlike others... who stopped listening to the family after marriage. Remember, are you a Smith until death or...?"

Just then, the maid stirred.

I watched tensely as she awakened.

"Miss Smith, why didn't you tell me you were up? You might hurt yourself."

Her voice was thick with sleep but full of concern.

I sat there frozen, my back soaked with cold sweat.

Thank God I ended the call in time.

"I'm fine, just wanted some water."

"You should have said something earlier. Let me get that for you."

The maid quickly rose and took the cup from my trembling hands.

At that moment, my phone vibrated once—a message.

[Richard plans to participate in the scenic area project. Find a way to obtain the base price for the bid.]

I quickly read the message and deleted it, my mind already calculating how to complete the task.

During my recovery period, days passed one by one.

I spent almost the entire week in the hospital.

Upon discharge, Richard didn't send me back to my apartment but brought me directly to Gray Villa.

This conveniently gave me an opportunity to get close to Richard.

However, he never brought work home—how was I supposed to get the bidding base price?

Back at Gray Villa, Richard was meticulous and thorough, so attentive that I felt somewhat at a loss.

Although a week had passed since the injury incident, it remained a constant worry in my mind.

During lunch, I casually broached the subject: "Mr. Gray... about my injury..."

The official story was that I had been mugged and injured my back when leaving the hospital that night. Everyone believed this explanation.

No one had mentioned it since.

But Richard was far too shrewd to believe such a tale.

All it would take was checking the hospital's security footage from that night.

"About that..." Richard smiled faintly. "They caught him. I had intended to have you identify him earlier, but considering your health, I declined on your behalf."

"R-really?" I felt uneasy. Had a mugger really materialized out of thin air?

I looked at Richard incredulously, momentarily speechless.

As I hesitated, Richard suddenly asked, "Are you close with Mrs. Blair?"

When Richard abruptly mentioned Camila, I felt somewhat alarmed.

After all, she had helped me at the Blair residence last time.

Did Richard know something?

"Mr. Gray, is there a problem?"

"Mrs. Blair's brother works at the planning bureau, so..." he paused.

"Never mind. Socializing is always beneficial." He then gestured for Tom to come over.

Tom approached, a black card held between his fingers.

"Scarlett, after this incident, I feel you need some security assurance."

Richard reached across the table, took my hand, and placed the black card in it.

"Mr. Gray..." This gesture took me by surprise.

At the same time, the look Tom gave me was somewhat chilling.

Before I could grip the black card tightly, a sudden, urgent ring interrupted our conversation.

Tom handed over the phone, and Richard quickly answered, "It's you... you've arrived? Good."

Richard's expression softened, but something said by the person on the other end made his sharp eyes immediately turn toward me.

The next second, his large hand directly seized my throat!