Chapter 9

Scarlett POV

The stairwell of the Harper Group building felt like a sanctuary to me.

I leaned against the cold cement wall, my fingers trembling as I desperately dialed the numbers on the business card.

With each call, my hope diminished. Almost no lawyers saw any merit in the Smith family's case, and the few who were willing to take it on only promised to do their best.

"Miss Smith," one lawyer said, his voice filled with sympathy, "I understand your concern about the Smith family's debt—it's certainly not a small amount. The most I can do is petition the court for a payment extension. Perhaps you could consider other avenues..."

My heart sank completely. The last path had been blocked. Now, only two choices remained before me, each more frightening than the last:

Turn to Alexander, which meant betraying Richard. Just the thought sent a shiver of fear through me.

Beyond the risks involved, I'd have to deal with Alexander's volatile temperament. I recalled his blue eyes, sometimes cold, sometimes burning. He could discard me at any moment, like a chess piece that had served its purpose.

Or stay with Richard, facing not only Alexander's threats over that night but also his perverted methods... I forced myself to stop imagining—the consequences were too terrifying.

Unable to think of any other solution, I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to find a sense of security.

Suddenly, the phone in my hand vibrated, startling me so badly I nearly dropped it.

I looked at the phone in surprise—it was Richard!

Seeing his name, hope and fear rushed through me simultaneously.

"Scarlett?" His voice sounded somewhat troubled, but not unkind. "I saw you called me several times. What's wrong?"

"Mr. Grey..." My voice caught in my throat, tears spilling from my eyes.

For a moment, the emotions were so overwhelming I could barely breathe.

"Scarlett, tell me what happened? I'll take care of it immediately."

The genuine concern in his tone made my eyes well up with tears, blurring my vision.

"Please," I begged, choking as I explained everything that had happened. My voice broke, tinged with desperation. "You have to help me this time!"

After a brief pause, he said gently, "Of course I can. I'll take care of everything."

His words were brief yet powerful. I clung to them like a person in dire straits grasping at the last thread of hope.

He ended the call abruptly, leaving me alone in the stairwell, crying, my palm slick with cold sweat.

It wasn't until several minutes later that my breathing finally steadied.

A disturbing thought surfaced in my mind—although Richard had promised to help, he hadn't revealed any information about what he would do.

The uncertainty gnawed at me, triggering a wave of panic. Had I made things worse? Would he really help, or were those just empty words to pacify me?

Afraid that going home might delay matters, I sat anxiously in a nearby café, fidgeting with my cup, realizing the coffee had gone cold without me taking a single sip.

Unlike the other customers enjoying their afternoon tea, my body remained tense, my mind racing through countless scenarios of what might happen.

Every time my phone vibrated, my heart leaped into my throat as I quickly checked it, terrified of missing a single message.

Three agonizing hours later, someone finally contacted me.

It was Glenn Finley, one of the lawyers I'd spoken with earlier: "Rest assured, Mr. Grey has given instructions. You won't need to worry about anything moving forward."

Glenn's parting words were like a reassuring pill.

Earlier, when I mentioned George had referred me, Glenn had merely offered to do his best. But now, with Richard backing me, the outcome had completely changed.

Richard's influence in Silverlight City clearly far exceeded my imagination, easily overshadowing the Harper family.

I couldn't help but wonder: did Alexander truly have the power to challenge Richard?

Outside the law firm, the night air grew chilly, the cold seeping through my thin coat into my bones. My phone rang again—this time it was Emily.

"Scarlett, darling! Richard called. He's dealing with those debt collectors!" Her voice soared with excitement, aggravating my already tense nerves.

"You know, dear, you really should work on developing your relationship with him. Once you have children, your position in the Grey family will be secure..."

My stomach churned. "Mom, please. Can we not discuss this right now?"

Richard and I could never have children, but I couldn't reveal that to Emily and the others—it would only create more trouble.

Just then, another call came through—an unknown number. A man's voice, terse and urgent: "Miss Smith, please cross the street immediately. Mr. Grey is asking for you."

My heart leapt. Richard?

But as I approached the stylish Rolls Royce waiting across the street, the driver's next words caught me off guard.

"It's Alexander Grey, sir. He's been injured."

The private hospital corridor was eerily quiet, its opulence more befitting a five-star hotel than a medical facility. There were few patients, making my footsteps sound particularly loud.

Then I saw Alexander, lounging indolently on a leather bench, his pristine white shirt stained with blood.

Despite being injured, he casually smoked a cigar, the smoke curling around his face, alternately obscuring and revealing his features—there was something oddly theatrical about the scene.

The man who had brought me spoke: "Mr. Grey, I've brought her as requested."

Alexander's gaze locked with mine, and though his face was ashen, his eyes remained sharp: "Bring her in!"

Before I could process what was happening, medical staff ushered me into a treatment room.

"What are you going to do to me?"

I tried to resist, but the bodyguards pinned me down immediately, fear and confusion intertwining in my heart.

When I saw them preparing blood drawing equipment, I suddenly realized — Alexander and I shared the same rare blood type.

A chill crawled up my spine as I understood what they wanted me for.

They drew a full 400cc, leaving me dizzy. Pressing gauze against my arm as I walked out, Alexander had already vanished.

Only a person mopping up blood remained, along with the man who had brought me smoking by the window—he must be Alexander's bodyguard.

"Miss Smith," the man said, extinguishing his cigarette, "I'll take you home."

I studied him—around forty, powerfully built, the kind of person you'd want on your side in a fight. His face betrayed nothing, but his posture indicated he was prepared for anything.

Before I could speak, a nurse appeared hurriedly, her tone tense and rushed.

"Miss Smith, Mr. Grey wants to see you."

"Let's go," the bodyguard said without waiting for my reply and walked away.

I had no choice but to follow him, though I didn't know if he was taking me home or to see Alexander.

We entered a subtly luxurious hospital room. Alexander reclined against his pillows, bandages wrapped around his hand, an IV line feeding my blood into his veins.

He looked completely at ease, as if he were vacationing at a seaside resort rather than in a hospital.

This calmness made me feel a surge of irritation and unfairness.

I couldn't help staring at him. The blood loss had left his face paler than usual, making his features more pronounced, more dangerous, more... captivating.

"Like what you see?" His voice carried that familiar mocking tone that irritated me.

I clenched my fingers, trying to hide my embarrassment.

Undeniably, he had the kind of face most women would find attractive—the kind of dangerous beauty that warned you to stay away even as it drew you closer.

Alexander sat up straighter, his blue eyes fixed on me. "Has Richard ever told you why he chose you as his fiancée?

How could he bring this up? This question caught me completely off guard.

I looked at him nervously, my heart seemingly about to leap out of my chest, uncertain about how much he knew.