Chapter 59

Scarlett POV

My arms remained loosely wrapped around his neck, not daring to pull away, yet not daring to become more intimate either.

I lowered my gaze, my eyelashes trembling slightly, displaying a shyness and timidity completely different from my usual composure, while frantically calculating in my mind whether this tactic would work.

Alexander couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at my performance, a glint of amusement flashing in his eyes, seemingly entertained by my sudden transformation.

"Are you sure it's not 'the paramour'?" His voice was laced with obvious sarcasm.

Hearing this, my heart was instantly filled with conflicting emotions—anger at his coldness, fear of his perceptive insight, and a pain I hadn't anticipated. Still, I managed to display a troubled expression.

"I've never thought of it that way... after all, you're my first..." I lowered my gaze, playing my part perfectly.

"But no matter how you look at it, I'm your uncle's fiancée. I don't want our relationship—"

"Lover sounds nice," Alexander interrupted, reaching out to grasp my chin, shaking my head as if I were a mischievous pet. "But that's not what I asked you just now."

My heart pounded violently in my chest, my thoughts racing, desperately searching for a way to get past this situation.

But before I could think of something, Alexander's hand holding my chin affectionately pinched my nose.

"I was just teasing you. Why are you so afraid?"

How could I not be afraid? The mere thought that he might have overheard my conversation meant he might investigate my background, and then all the people and things would be impossible to hide!

They would all become targets for him to eliminate one by one.

Alexander was never known for his mercy.

I revealed genuine fear, and Alexander's expression inexplicably softened.

"Darling, are you really that scared?" I blinked in confusion, this gentle tone so incongruous with his character.

I couldn't trust this sudden tenderness—it was just another mask he wore to disarm my defenses.

Sure enough, his next words confirmed my suspicions: "I won't pursue who you were calling just now, but since you're willing to be my lover, do you know how to please your man?"

My man? This possessive phrase echoed in my mind.

At this point, what choice did I have? I had no other options, but this was, after all, the Gray family estate.

If I engaged in any intimate activity with Alexander here, who knew if Richard might turn around and come looking for me again?

"Can we let it go for today?" I pleaded, my eyes wide and earnest. "I'll make it up to you next time?"

Next time... we would have a next time. Strangely, my heart didn't seem to reject the idea as much as it should, but I was being forced into this.

Alexander smiled helplessly, perhaps because my timid behavior was so different from my usual sharpness. After a moment's consideration, he finally agreed.

"Alright, next time then." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Don't disappoint me."

He leaned in to leave a mark on my neck, like a brand of possession, then left with a satisfied smile.

Watching him finally leave, I couldn't help but sigh in relief, turning to look in the mirror to find a large patch of my top stained red with blood.

After taking medical leave due to my injury, I was confined to the Gray family manor for the first two weeks. Those days felt like endless torture, with each minute stretching unbearably long.

The pain from my wound would sometimes cut like ice, sometimes throb dully, but this actually became the easiest part to endure.

What truly tormented me was the constant mental tension, like an invisible rope tightening day by day, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Richard possessed a strange quality—eight out of ten sentences he spoke carried hidden meanings that needed constant deciphering.

At night, lying in bed, I would often toss and turn, replaying our conversations in my mind, trying to catch those latent threats or warnings.

Especially after offending Tom, the situation became even more suffocating.

I frequently sensed eyes watching from corners, heard footsteps at the end of hallways, caught shadows flashing past windows, and noticed even the way coffee cups were placed.

Whenever I discovered these small details that had changed unnoticed, my nerves would involuntarily tighten.

After enduring this omnipresent surveillance for half a month, I felt I had reached my limit.

At night, I often woke from nightmares, my forehead covered in cold sweat. I had to leave this place, or I would truly break down!

Finally, I found a reasonable excuse to move back to my own apartment.

"A familiar environment is conducive to optimal recovery," my doctor seriously advised Richard, his expression professional and indisputable.

This medical opinion cost me a considerable "consultation fee"—to be precise, my bank account was missing five digits.

Watching Richard furrow his brow in contemplation, I held my breath, my nails unconsciously digging into my palms.

When he finally nodded in agreement, I almost wept with joy, but I only allowed myself a small, grateful smile, fearing that appearing too happy might make him change his mind.

The moment I stepped into my apartment, I felt noticeably more relaxed; at least here, I could lower my guard slightly.

Emily had been waiting for me, and as soon as I opened the door, I saw her pacing the living room like a caged beast.

Upon seeing me, she first looked surprised, then immediately approached me with obvious impatience.

"Well?" she asked bluntly. "Have you asked Richard when he'll arrange your father's lawsuit? And Hugh still can't come back from abroad. Scarlett, you can't just enjoy the good life yourself without caring whether we live or die!"

I had been walking on eggshells all this time, and hearing Emily's accusations, the anger I had suppressed in my heart could no longer be contained, and the mask of the dutiful daughter was finally torn away.

"Mom," I snapped, my words sharp as a knife, "you know perfectly well I'm injured! I can barely stand, how could I possibly please Richard?"

My eyes blazed with anger as I threw my bag by the door with a thud.

Emily was stunned for a moment, seemingly shocked by my sharp response, especially since I had always been submissive in her presence before.

But quickly, the surprise on her face turned into a cold smirk.

"You think I'm a fool?" she hissed, arms tightly crossed over her chest.

"The nurses saw everything. You and that Alexander, exchanging glances at the hospital like lovesick teenagers! Don't deny your relationship to my face!"

Her eyes narrowed, "Is this your grand plan? Hook up with him and then throw us away like garbage?"

Hot anger surged within me, but I didn't want her to know my true emotions. Suffocating silence built between us like a bomb waiting to explode.

Seeing that I remained cold, Emily changed her strategy, her tone shifting to one of coaxing.

"Scarlett, I'm not threatening you." She moved closer, seemingly wanting to touch my arm, but when she saw my warning glance, she quietly withdrew her hand.

"Just think about our difficult situation. After all, we raised you for over ten years. If that relationship doesn't benefit us..."

"Enough!" I exploded, trembling with anger I could no longer contain, though despite the fury rising within me, my voice remained steady and direct.

"Since we're being so 'honest' with each other," I said furiously, stepping toward her until we were almost nose to nose.

"I have something to ask you too." I met her gaze unflinchingly, my eyes filled with undisguised fury.

"How did my mother really die?" I enunciated each word slowly.

"The only reason I agreed to marry Richard was because of your promise! You swore that if I helped save the Smith family, you would finally tell me the truth about her death! Or was that just another one of your convenient lies?"