Chapter 9

Even Summer Knight herself was stunned. The words ringing in her ears seemed to overlap with the loving vows Alexander Barron had made to her in their past life. Back then, he’d showered her with everything he owned, treating her like precious treasure. For a moment, it almost made her believe nothing had changed—that the way he looked at her still held the same deep affection. But now? When she glanced at him, grinning like a fool, he just kept turning his face away. So it was true—this version of him didn’t love her at all. He was only marrying her because of that one accidental night… — Outside the engagement venue— Margaret Blake was trying to pull a disheveled Isabella Knight into the car, but Isabella refused to move. “Mom, why did you stop me? I was about to tell everyone we never made that idiot do any—” Before she could finish, Charles Knight slapped her hard across the face. “Watch your tongue! That ‘idiot’ is your sister!” That was the second time Charles had hit her. Isabella completely lost it. “She IS an idiot! Everyone in City Q knows it! Why does SHE get to become the future Mrs. Barron? That was supposed to be MY position!” Right then, she looked completely unhinged, spewing venom like a madwoman. The perfect image she’d carefully built over years shattered in an instant. Furious, Charles raised his hand to slap her again. But Margaret stepped between them, clearly upset.“Charles, she’s just in shock. Don’t be too hard on her—I’ll talk to her.” “Talk? She’s the one who handed her engagement to Alexander over to that fool Summer! Who else can she blame but herself?” Charles was seething. He’d invested so much in raising his second daughter, only to find her nothing but a spoiled, reckless girl who couldn’t keep her mouth shut—even managing to offend Old Mr. Barron! Their whole family had become a joke among City Q’s elite. He’d had enough. Without another word, he left the mother and daughter behind and got into the car alone. “Isabella, just let it go. That girl is Alexander’s fiancée now. It’s done,”Margaret pleaded. “No! I won’t accept this!”Isabella screamed, eyes bloodshot. She shoved her mother aside and stormed back toward the banquet hall. All she could think about was taking back what was rightfully hers. — Inside the venue, Alexander ignored the buzzing crowd, his face unreadable, and calmly announced:“Summer and I will be married in exactly one month. We look forward to your presence.” Then he tightened his grip on Summer’s hand and led her away. He had plans for his girl before taking her back to the Knight residence. Just as she reentered the hall, Isabella overheard the announcement—Summer was really going to become the future Mrs. Barron? For real? That idiot was going to walk all over her? Why?! Isabella was practically green with envy. Fine—if she couldn’t have the title, she’d make sure no one else could keep it, either. The hatred burning in Isabella’s eyes didn’t escape Summer, who had just stepped off the stage. Still wearing her clueless grin, Summer hid every trace of cunning behind that foolish mask. Alexander followed her gaze and noticed Isabella. Immediately, he signaled his assistant, Ethan Hart, with a look. Ethan understood and moved swiftly toward Isabella. Alexander tugged lightly at Summer’s hand, pulling her attention back as they began to leave. “Wait! Miss Knight, did you drop this?” A voice called out from behind them. Summer narrowed her eyes slightly and turned—only to see a slender, familiar figure. Her? Her eyelashes fluttered almost imperceptibly. So the timeline had shifted. She was meeting Grace Hill earlier than expected. Grace—the kind girl who’d helped her in her past life and paid for it with her life. Summer bounded over, eyes wide and sparkling with feigned innocence. “Pretty lady, are you a nurse? Are you gonna give me a shot? Can you be reaaally gentle? I’m super scared of needles!” She pouted and clutched the hem of Grace’s uniform like a lost child, her face a mask of exaggerated fear. From where he stood, Alexander could see Grace looking visibly stunned. His brows drew together. Without a word, he strode over and took Summer’s hand. “Let’s go.” “Bye, pretty nurse! I’ll come find you next time for my shot, okay?” Even as he pulled her away, Summer turned back with a cheerful wave, her grin wide and bright. She needed allies in this life—and Grace was a perfect start. Long after Summer disappeared, Grace finally snapped out of it. Her pupils dilated, and her neatly shaped brows knitted tightly. The girl everyone called the town fool had just leaned in and whispered: “If you want to know what really happened at Isabella’s birthday party last month, come to the Knight villa tonight. Alone.” No matter how many times Grace replayed it, there was nothing foolish about Summer’s tone—it was calm, controlled, nothing like the six-year-old mind people described. — Walking with Summer toward the private lounge, Alexander could still faintly hear Old Mr. Barron addressing the guests behind them. Once people began murmuring about Alexander’s sudden exit, Old Mr. Barron had stepped up to speak. “To allow Summer and Alexander to deepen their bond, she will be moving to his private island starting today. She will remain there for one month.” This one-month arrangement had been agreed upon by him and Alexander beforehand. It was during this time Alexander planned to purge the family—to remove the growing threat from the second branch. And in return? All he wanted was Summer. But Summer still couldn’t figure it out—what had Alexander done to make Old Mr. Barron go from cold indifference to full support and protection? Inside the lounge, Alexander led her in and shut the door firmly behind them. Summer blinked up at him, taking in the dangerous glint in his fox-like eyes and the faint, teasing curl of his lips. “What do you think I’m going to do to you now, little fool?” He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, his voice a low, teasing murmur—like Death swinging his scythe. And she was the soul caught in its arc. “I dunno. What is big brother gonna do to Summer?” She tilted her head, eyes wide and innocent like a clueless child. Still pretending. Still acting the fool. But Alexander wasn’t buying it. His little fool was far too sharp. That silver needle in her palm, the whispered words to Grace—the clues were adding up. His smirk widened, a faint amusement touching his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well then, big brother wants to see Summer’s little secret. Let’s find where you’re hiding it.” Before Summer could grasp his meaning, he moved quickly. But the moment his fingers brushed against her, his expression shifted. This doesn’t feel… right.