Chapter 6

After dinner, the four of them sat together on the living room couch, chatting happily as a family. Eleanor had no interest in playing along with their cheerful act. She stood up and walked toward the garden. The evening breeze carried a faint coolness of early summer, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in her chest. Not long after, Amelia followed her outside, wearing a smile that was both gentle and dazzlingly triumphant. "Elean, are you out here enjoying the breeze alone?" Her voice was gentle, but every word dripped with provocation. "I actually know why you're upset. Everyone in our circle has been talking, and they told me everything that happened between you and Alexander during those three years." Eleanor tensed slightly but kept her back to her. "To be honest, I was a little worried when I first heard," Amelia continued, walking up beside her. She studied Eleanor's bright yet pale profile. "After all, my little sister is so beautiful. Which man wouldn't be tempted?" She shook her head and gave Eleanor a condescending glance. "What a shame—all that beauty wasted. Your mother could never compete with mine, and you are no match for me, either. These past three years have been nothing but charity from my side. Now that I'm back, it's time for you to step aside." Eleanor slowly turned to face her. In the moonlight, her eyes glimmered sharply, but there was none of the anger or sadness Amelia expected. Only cold mockery shone in them. "Charity?" Eleanor said with a mocking smile. "Amelia, have you been abroad so long that you've forgotten who you really are?" She met Amelia's gaze without flinching. "You're nothing but a woman who could only enter a household because your mother was a mistress, a weakling who uses schemes to catch a man. How dare you talk about charity in front of me? "Your mother took the trash my mother discarded, and you took the man I did not want. You and your mother are the same, always taking what others leave behind." "You!" Amelia's smile faltered, and her face flushed from pale to red. She hadn't expected Eleanor to remain so unflinching even under attack. Eleanor stepped forward and said sharply, "What about me? Do you really think you've won? That man was the one I chose to discard. You took him and flaunted him like a prize. Amelia, your vision has never reached beyond this petty world." Amelia shook with fury at Eleanor's relentless attack, her carefully maintained mask of gentleness falling apart. Eleanor didn't want to waste any more words on her, so she turned to leave. Just as she turned around, a sharp, piercing scream rang out. Amelia's forehead had struck the edge of a stone bench in the garden, and blood poured instantly. "Amelia!" At almost the same moment, Alexander, Robert, and Patricia rushed out from the living room. Amelia lay on the ground, clutching her bleeding forehead as tears blurred her vision. "Dad, Mom, Alexander, it's not Elean's fault. I just lost my balance." Patricia rushed forward and held her daughter tightly, crying out, "Amelia! My poor girl! How could you be so naive? After everything she's done to you, you're still defending her!" Robert's face went pale with rage. He pointed a shaking finger at Eleanor and shouted, "Eleanor, you ingrate! What have you done to your sister?" Eleanor stood perfectly still, coldly watching the carefully staged scene unfold. Her gaze swept over her furious father and hypocritical stepmother before finally settling on Alexander. He knelt beside Amelia, carefully examining her wound. Then, he lifted his head, and his deep eyes met hers. The calm that usually lived there was gone, replaced by a chilling scrutiny. At that moment, a chill sank deep into her bones. He didn't trust her, and he never had. Amelia was the one he cherished above all. Why would he ever believe her? Eleanor's lips twisted into a bitter smile before a harsh laugh escaped her. The next second, she strode forward. In the stunned silence of everyone watching, she grabbed a heavy ceramic flowerpot nearby and, without hesitation, smashed it down on the spot where Amelia's forehead had just been injured. The thud of impact echoed, followed by Amelia's piercing scream and the sharp intake of breath from the onlookers. "Listen carefully," Eleanor said, letting go of the shattered pot. Her voice was eerily calm, but her eyes glinted like poisoned knives. "I didn't strike her just now. But this time, I did." Everyone froze, including Alexander. Eleanor dropped the remaining ceramic shards and turned to leave. A sudden, crushing grip locked around her wrist, sending pain rattling through her bones. Alexander's face was so dark with fury that it seemed to drip with menace as he held her tightly. He then looked at Robert coolly. "Mr. Hayes, if your daughter behaves like this and you don't handle it, I won't just let it slide." Caught between worry for Amelia and dread of Alexander's power, Robert hurriedly nodded. "Don't worry, Mr. Grant. I'll make sure my insolent daughter is severely punished." He immediately called his bodyguards. "Grab her! Drag her to the living hall and make her kneel!" "You dare!" Eleanor struggled, glaring fiercely at her father. Robert, however, turned to Alexander with obsequious deference. "Mr. Grant, do you think having her kneel in the living hall to reflect on her behavior will be sufficient punishment?" Holding Amelia, whose forehead still bled, Alexander's cold gaze swept over Eleanor. His lips parted, and the words that followed were ruthless. "It's too lenient. I saw the whip in the study. I don't think it's just for decoration." Without another word, he carried Amelia in his arms and strode away. Eleanor froze, unable to believe what she had just heard. Had he really just told Robert to use the whip on her?