Chapter 81

Alexander's POV

Standing at the staircase landing, I observed Scarlett's angry face. She didn't seem surprised to see me here.

I couldn't help but study her—those increasingly thin shoulders and the tense curve of her waist. She was growing thinner.

She was always like this: strong on the surface while carrying the weight of countless burdens in her heart.

My thumb unconsciously caressed the top of my cane. I wanted to reach out and grab her, but ultimately remained rooted to the spot.

"Chloe..." I repeated the name I'd overheard moments ago. It was like a key, unlocking a suspicious secret door in my mind that I'd long questioned.

Excitement flickered in my eyes as I watched her deliberately ignore me, which only heightened my interest.

I followed leisurely behind Scarlett, calculating how to unravel this mystery.

"Running away won't solve your problems, Miss Smith," I drawled, the ghost of a smile playing on my lips. "Especially problems concerning your mother."

Scarlett turned to face me, her gray eyes flashing with angry fire. "This is none of your business, Mr. Gray."

I stepped forward, my cane tapping lightly against the floor. "On the contrary, anything concerning you is absolutely my business."

I followed Scarlett into the dining room.

Richard, that old fox, was already seated at the head of the table, with Lillian occupying the empty seat beside him, playing the role of the obedient girl.

My cane tapped softly against the floor as my gaze fell upon them. The impatience churning in my chest was impossible to disguise.

"Miss Harber," Scarlett greeted calmly before gracefully taking her seat next to Richard.

Her movements were fluid and natural, but I recalled how desperately she'd tried to escape Richard in my car the other day. Being close to him must be torturous for her.

My eyes narrowed slightly as I noticed the faint blush creeping up her earlobes—her small habit when nervous.

"Is your mother Emily alright?" I heard Richard ask Scarlett just as I sat down. His fingers lightly brushed the back of her hand with a false tenderness that made my stomach turn.

My knuckles tightened beneath the table as I imagined the sensation of crushing his throat.

"She's fine. She was probably just too excited and had too much to drink, saying some nonsense. Please don't worry about it," Scarlett replied, her cheeks tinged pink, presenting herself as gentle and agreeable.

"We're family. Why so formal with me?" Richard's tone was indulgent. I watched coldly, silently condemning him.

No one was allowed to touch her like that—not even my dear uncle.

"Unfortunately, we're not family yet, Uncle. Don't forget the wedding hasn't taken place," I remarked, methodically cutting the steak on my plate.

Hearing this, Lillian's gaze darted between Richard and Scarlett, her eyes gleaming with a familiar jealousy.

"Richard, I truly envy your relationship with Miss Smith. It's nothing like what I have with Alexander..."

Her words trailed off deliberately, simultaneously complimenting Richard while tattling on me.

I laughed inwardly. Let them put on their show. Richard played along, chuckling. "You're about to marry into the Gray family. Why haven't you changed how you address me?"

I watched Lillian's flushed cheeks as she replied in a shy voice: "Richard, stop teasing me. Alexander and I haven't yet..."

"Haven't what?" I deliberately leaned closer to her, feeling her body tense, halting her words.

My gaze swept across everyone at the table, finally resting on Scarlett, intentionally allowing a dangerous gleam of interest to surface in my eyes. "Or perhaps you have something you wish to tell Richard?"

I noticed Scarlett's spine straighten, that alert posture reminding me of a trapped deer. How amusing—she walked willingly into the Gray family cage, yet behaved as though forced.

"What else could we discuss? I simply admire the relationship between Richard and Miss Smith.

I imagine Miss Smith must possess some exceptional qualities for Uncle Richard to be so fond of her," Lillian continued her performance, her gaze challenging Scarlett.

I watched as Scarlett took a sip of red wine, then linked her arm with Richard's.

The gesture was natural yet contrived; every minute expression of hers was laid bare before me.

I pretended to focus on the steak before me, my knife and fork cutting through the crimson meat as I imagined it was Richard's heart.

"Richard appreciates that I'm perceptive, obedient, and never speak out of turn," Scarlett smiled at Richard, her face wearing a perfect smile before deliberately asking, "Isn't that right, Richard?"

This act nearly made me laugh aloud. Obedient? Scarlett? If Richard believed this lie, he was even more foolish than I thought.

"Yes," Richard pinched her nose. "You seem innocent, but you're actually quite skilled at reading people—knowing what to say and what not to say."

Richard's implication was a warning to Lillian to stop her reckless comments.

But I could see Lillian's hands still gripping her utensils tightly. She probably hadn't expected Richard to react that way.

Blinded by jealousy at Richard's apparent doting on Scarlett, such women were truly boring—so easily manipulated.

"Not at all. I feel I'm not good enough to you!" Scarlett responded sweetly, as though forcing herself to say the words through nausea.

This scene ignited anger deep within me, though I maintained my outward calm, only applying slightly more force as my knife sliced through the steak.

Lillian glanced at me and continued:

"Richard, when do you and Miss Smith plan to hold your wedding? You're our elders—if you don't marry, how could Alexander and I dare to marry before you?"

"My, Lillian, are you eager to bear children for our Alexander?" Richard laughed, though I could see his eyes growing cold. He never liked others interfering in his affairs.

"Richard, you're teasing me again!" Lillian protested coquettishly, immediately grasping my arm.

Her touch made me uncomfortable, but I showed no reaction, simply delivering another piece of steak to my mouth with composure.

She was merely a pawn to me, an insignificant figure used to divert Richard's attention.

I meticulously wiped my mouth before finally speaking: "For marriage and children, shouldn't we let our elders go first?

Even for bearing children, Miss Smith should be the one to give the Gray family another child first."

As I said this, I deliberately let my gaze travel to Scarlett's waist, noticing her body stiffen slightly.

I laughed inwardly. She was always so sensitive; every time my gaze touched her, she reacted with these subtle movements, as if burned by fire.