Chapter 42
Just as Arya turned her head, she saw Eloise walking in, dressed in a delicate blush pink dress and clinging gracefully to Malcolm, who wore a sharp navy suit like he was attending a press conference.
Both of them carried elegantly packaged gift boxes, and the way they entered–heads high, steps calculated–reeked of condescension, like they’d shown up just to enjoy someone else’s misfortune.
Arya’s jaw tensed. The sight alone made her blood boil.
They hadn’t come to pay their respects. They’d come prepared with a purpose.
Travis was the first to react. The moment he caught sight of Malcolm, his expression went cold, and he sprang up from the sofa with clenched fists. “Malcolm,” he said sharply, his voice laced with fury, “you’re not welcome in the Keller household. Get out. Now.”
The memory still stung–how Malcolm had so effortlessly abandoned Arya during the kidnapping. Travis hadn’t even gotten around to settling that debt, and yet Malcolm had the gall to show his face here again.
“Travis, please,” Eloise said quickly, stepping forward and looping her arm tighter around Malcolm’s, her voice sweet and composed, “Malcolm only: came to visit Uncle Stephen.
“We’ve been really concerned about his condition, and now that he’s awake, it’s only right we come and show our support as family.”
Of course, the real reason was that Jared had just called to say Stephen had regained consciousness. He wanted them to come bearing gifts–to feel things out, to see if Stephen was actually mentally impaired or just pretending.
After all, if a niece dropped by with concern and good intentions, what kind of aunt and uncle would turn her away at the door?
Travis didn’t even glance at her as he spoke, his gaze fixed on Malcolm with quiet rage. “You can stay,” he said stiffly. “But Malcolm needs to leave. Now.”
Malcolm had left Arya to fend for herself that night, and Travis hadn’t forgotten–not even for a second. The fact that he hadn’t already broken the guy’s nose was charity.
“Travis,” Arya interjected calmly, her voice as cold as ice. “Go back to your room. I want to speak with them alone.”
She didn’t want him to see what she was about to do–what she was capable of.
Her face remained untouched by emotion. Her expression did not flicker with irritation or disdain as she regarded Eloise and Malcolm.
It was as if the two of them were nothing more than vaguely familiar strangers she’d bumped into on the street.
Travis frowned, clearly reluctant to leave her alone, but Arya glanced at him again and added, “We’ll finish ourconversation once I’m done with them.”
For a second, Travis looked genuinely rattled.
“Finish our conversation?” he muttered under his breath, then suddenly stiffened. “She’s not really thinking about curing my…”
Snapping out of it, he cleared his throat and said hurriedly, “Right. Arya, something just came up at work. I need to run.”
He turned to Malcolm with a scowl as he left and growled, “If you lay a finger on my sister, I swear I’ll make you regret it.”
Only after the door closed behind him did Arya finally shift her stance. She folded her arms across her chest, leaned against the edge of the table, and gave the pair a half–lidded stare. “Your concerns noted,” she said coolly. “Now leave the gifts and see yourselves out.”
Malcolm stiffened, and for a brief second, the polished mask slipped. A flicker of venom surfaced in his eyes.
He hadn’t forgotten what happened at the club–how she’d forced him to kneel, humiliated him in front of everyone. That wound still bled.
21:50 F1, 13 Jun
Chapter 42
But just as quickly, the charm returned. His features softened, and he spoke with measured patience. “Arya, I know I wronged you,” he said with the air of a man offering olive branches he had no intention of letting go. “But feelings can’t be forced. We’re genuinely here to see Stephen, nothing more
Eloise stepped up beside him and nodded sweetly. “That’s right, Arya. Even after
“He insisted we come. That kind of grace isn’t something you see often.”
what happened at the club, Malcolm never held it against you.
Eloise stepped forward and retrieved a small velvet box from the gift bag. She opened it with a dramatic flourish to reveal a translucent green crystal. “We brought this for Uncle Stephen,” she said sweetly, as if unveiling some priceless heirloom. “It’s a healing crystal from a holistic boutique downtown. Supposedly, it encourages recovery and balances emotional energy.”
She looked up at Arya with an earnest expression that was just a shade too practiced.
Arya’s eyes flicked toward the crystal, expression unreadable. “Oh?” she replied coolly.
But Arya didn’t even blink. Her gaze slid to the box and stayed there for just a moment. Something wasn’t right.
Eloise mistook the quiet tone for interest and pressed on, clearly emboldened. “It’s actually a rare type of quartz–wasn’t cheap either.
“But if it helps Uncle Stephen feel better, it’s worth every penny.”
She paused, then glanced pointedly toward the staircase. “Is he resting upstairs? I could go leave it by his bedside-”
“You’ll stay right there,” Arya said flatly, catching her wrist before she could move. Then Arya gave her a faint, almost lazy smile. “Since you’re so concerned about my dad’s wellbeing… why not show your sincerity another way?”
+
Eloise turned her head, frowning slightly as her eyes met Arya’s murderous gaze. Another way?”
Her intuition told her that Arya definitely had no good intentions.
Arya raised a brow and replied, “How about you show that sincerity by scrubbing the toilets?”
Arya gave a casual shrug. “I mean, anyone can hand over a pretty rock and call it a blessing. But cleaning someone’s bathroom? Now that takes real effort.”
Eloise tried to laugh it off, though her face had gone pale beneath the layers of makeup.
She thought, ‘How dare she make me scrub the toilet! She wants to treat me like a servant!‘
“Arya,” she said, forcing a smile as she looped an arm through Malcolm’s, “we actually have a wedding photoshoot scheduled right after this. I’m afraid there’s just no time for… chores.”
She lingered on the word wedding, making sure Arya caught every syllable. Then she added with a tilt of her head, “Oh, by the way–have you and Mr. Barnett even started looking at wedding gowns?”
Arya’s expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker.
Eloise, however, clearly wasn’t done. “Malcolm wants our ceremony to be grand–spectacular, really. He says it’s important that the world sees how much he loves me. Have you two set a date yet? Or is it still… complicated?”
Arya finally smiled. It wasn’t warm. “Let me see that healing crystal again,” she said, extending a hand.
Eloise blinked, caught off guard. She hadn’t expected that response.
She felt that Arya’s smile was a little weird.
Still, she handed it over with a cautious smile. “Arya, I’m telling you, this-
Before she could finish, Arya hurled the healing crystal to the floor.
21:56 Fri, 13 Jun
Chapter 42
It shattered into pieces with a dull crack.
Eloise gasped, horrified. “What are you doing?! That cost…”
She thought, ‘This is a stone my dad managed to spend a fortune on buying from special channels, yet this bitch Arya broke it!‘
But she never finished her sentence. Arya took a single step forward and slapped her across the face, hard enough to snap her head to the side.
“Too loud,” Arya said evenly.
Eloise stood frozen, one hand flying up to her cheek. She stared at Arya like she was looking at a lunatic,
“You hit me?” she said, stunned. “You actually hit me?”
All her life, not one person had ever dared hurt her, let alone slap her in the face,
But Arya wasn’t done.
Without a word, she bent down, picked up a few fragments of the healing crystal, and before Eloise could react, she gripped her chin and forced the shards into her mouth.
Eloise shrieked, struggling wildly. “Stop! Let go of me!”
AD
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