Chapter 45

ScarlettPOV

Alexander's face flashed in my mind, those blue eyes always carrying a hint of mockery as if laughing at my weakness.

I bit my lip, my heartbeat involuntarily quickening—he was the only one who might help me.

This thought was like a thorn, piercing my heart, making me both hopeful and afraid.

"But how could it possibly be him?" I asked myself, my fingertips unconsciously fidgeting with the hem of my dress.

Alexander, that demon, should be eager for Richard to discover those unspeakable things between us.

That would be so much more in line with his usual behavior... cold, heartless, full of vengeance.

From the first day I set foot in this mansion, the tense relationship between Alexander and Richard was palpable. He should want to use this situation to humiliate Richard.

Tom's voice interrupted my thoughts: "Dinner is ready, Mr. Gray."

Richard surveyed the table and chuckled lightly: "Gray family dinners are usually more lavish.

Tonight seems rather simple." His words made the food I'd prepared seem especially modest.

"You must be hungry. Sit down and eat. After dinner, I'll tell you about your father Adam's business matters," Richard said to me.

I nodded obediently and sat beside him, thinking to myself that Adam didn't have much business left anyway.

Suddenly, a mocking voice came from the doorway: "Uncle, you wouldn't be so petty, would you? I only made two..."

I jerked my head up, meeting Alexander's frivolous gaze. Remembering what he had mentioned in his letter, I gripped the dinner knife in my hand.

He stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, exuding that irritatingly charming aura as always.

Alexander paused briefly, then smiled: "Oh, my little step-aunt is here too. Have I come at a bad time?"

Despite his words, he didn't hesitate to pull out a chair and sit directly across from me.

Then he examined me with that undisguised appraisal, like he was admiring a woman at Velvet Mirage, his gaze full of playful intent.

I clutched my fork tightly, trying not to let my anger show, though I knew he could see through my facade.

Richard said nothing more, just cleared his throat to signal the start of dinner.

Alexander finally withdrew his gaze and looked curiously at the dishes: "These weren't made by the chef, were they?"

Tom immediately answered: "These were prepared by Miss Smith herself. She knows Mr. Gray has been eating out too much lately and wanted to change his palate."

"Oh—" Alexander dragged out the syllable, "Little step-aunt is so thoughtful. Uncle, marrying her is truly your good fortune. I'm even a bit envious."

His words sounded laughably fake. I could almost feel a wave of nausea rising in my stomach.

What angered me more was when he picked up his fork and deliberately poked around in the salad I had carefully prepared.

My hands involuntarily clenched into fists under the table. "Delicious," he said with a fake smile while turning my meticulously prepared salad into a green mush.

I clenched my teeth, resisting the urge to snatch the fork from him. A rush of heat flooded my cheeks.

I knew my expression must look terrible, but I couldn't control it.

The corners of my mouth stiffened downward, my eyes fixed on the food he'd ruined. From the corner of my eye, I could see Richard observing my reaction, which made me even more furious, yet I didn't dare to act out.

"Alexander," Richard coldly reprimanded, "if you don't want to eat, then leave. Don't ruin the food!"

Alexander leaned back casually in his chair, completely unconcerned: "Uncle, I'm just checking for you. So many people want to harm you. Who can guarantee these dishes are safe?"

His words were directly questioning me. I immediately stood up from my chair: "Alexander, what do you mean? Do you think I would harm Richard?"

My hands involuntarily clenched into fists, my chest heaving with anger. Richard quickly grabbed my hand, signaling me to sit down.

"Scarlett, don't be angry. He's just like that." Richard's tone was surprisingly gentle, showing nothing but concern and tenderness toward me, which made me feel uneasy.

I turned to Richard, sniffling and putting on an injured expression: "Richard, do you really think I would harm you?"

"How could I think that?" Richard said softly, "I know exactly what kind of person my Scarlett is."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alexander watching our "loving" engaged couple, clicking his tongue in disdain.

I'd bet he was thinking that we were both excellent actors.

"Alright," Alexander suddenly said, with a mischievous smile on his face.

He motioned for the servant to pour half a glass of red wine, then pushed back his chair and walked directly toward me.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have spoken to little step-aunt like that and made you cry! I apologize!"

God, his tone... that wasn't an apologetic tone at all!

Richard was watching nearby. A flush of heat spread from my neck to my cheeks, and I could feel my ears burning.

I noticed Tom's scrutinizing gaze moving back and forth between us. He suddenly appeared thoughtful, as if remembering something.

I knew he must be connecting this to the incident at the Blair family home, beginning to suspect something improper between Alexander and me.

While Tom was contemplating, I asked the servant to pour me half a glass of wine too. Holding the glass, I quietly looked at Alexander.

"Alexander, since you call me 'little step-aunt,' I'll accept your wine. But I must also return a glass to you."

Before I finished speaking, giving myself no chance for regret, I swung my hand, throwing the dark red liquid at Alexander's face—that face I both loved and hated. The wine traced an elegant arc in the air, each drop like the anger and grievances I had suppressed for so long.

"Crash!" The sound of the glass hitting the floor was surprisingly crisp, bringing a satisfying sense of finality.

I saw Alexander's typically mocking blue eyes widen, showing genuine surprise for once.

The atmosphere in the dining room instantly froze. The servants seemed to hold their breath, not daring to move.

Even Richard appeared shocked, his gaze moving back and forth between Alexander and me.

The wine dripped down Alexander's face, staining the collar of his white shirt. Tom quickly called for a servant to bring a towel.

"Heh..." Alexander let out a light laugh. He hadn't expected me to dare do such a thing.

He just casually licked the wine from the corner of his mouth and snorted softly, showing no anger on his face.

"You all eat first," he said, taking the towel handed by the servant and wiping his face. "I'll go change my clothes." With that, he turned and went upstairs.

As soon as Alexander left, I collapsed weakly into my chair. My hand that had thrown the wine was still trembling.

I felt anxious inside, knowing Alexander all too well—he was a demon who had countless ways to torment people.

"Mr. Gray!" I turned to Richard, my voice filled with genuine fear, "Was I too impulsive just now? Will Alexander target me? After all, he has killed people on the battlefield."

Richard dismissively waved his hand: "It doesn't matter. No one can bully you while I'm here."