Chapter 83

Scarlett's POV

I recalled what had just happened when Lillian followed me into the bathroom.

***When I had finished throwing up, I turned around to find Lillian standing behind me. I raised an eyebrow.

"What brings Miss Harber into the bathroom instead of dining outside?" My voice echoed in the confined space.

"I came to see if you were feeling unwell... or perhaps you're pregnant?" Lillian's gaze fixed on my flat stomach, her eyes boring into me.

The more anxious she appeared, the more ridiculous she seemed. A mischievous impulse rose within me.

I leaned back against the sink, a faint smile playing on my lips, deliberately slowing my words: "I don't know, but if Miss Harber says I'm pregnant, then I suppose I am."

"You..." Lillian clearly hadn't expected my composure. Her expression contorted. "Aren't you afraid?"

"Afraid? Of what?" My smile grew brighter, a wave of triumph surging through me. The more flustered she became, the calmer I felt.

"My pregnancy would be wonderful news. Richard would be delighted. And I'd secure my position as 'Mrs. Gray' even faster. What should I fear?"

I watched her face turn ashen and couldn't help feeling secretly pleased. Dealing with her petty games was child's play for me.

"Scarlett, you're quite brave. You know full well that Richard..."

"He what?" I blinked, feigning innocence, my voice as naive as a sheltered girl's.

"His reputation precedes him, both good and bad. But if certain rumors were to come from your lips, that would hardly be my responsibility, would it?"

"You..." Lillian's eyes widened. She clearly hadn't anticipated my counterattack.

Did she mistake me for some weak girl who'd allow herself to be bullied? What a tremendous misunderstanding.

"If there's nothing else, I'll head back out." I moved toward the door, deliberately displaying my composure.

Lillian blocked my path like a wall. "Scarlett, you know perfectly well Richard is incapable of having children. How could you possibly be pregnant?"

I laughed inwardly. She had finally revealed her hand, unaware she'd fallen into my trap.

"That's a question for you, isn't it?" I reached out and touched Lillian's crimson lips, feeling her slight tremor.

A sense of satisfaction traveled from my fingertips as I pressed on: "So tell me, if I were pregnant, whose child do you think it would be?"

That single question plunged her into an abyss. I watched her pupils contract suddenly, her face turning from white to green.

"Impossible! It's impossible!" She almost screamed, as if confronting something utterly unacceptable.

I knew exactly what she was thinking. After all, my relationship with Alexander... the fiancée of the uncle with the nephew... such forbidden associations were enough to break her.

"Miss Harber, next time, think before you speak." My finger traced her red lips, my fingertip gently grinding against them, sensing her fear. I couldn't help but laugh, finding a strange satisfaction in the terror in her eyes. "I'm not trying to scare you. I'm not pregnant, but perhaps someone else deserves to be the mother of your fiancé's child."

That final blow was devastating. I watched the shock, anger, and humiliation flash across her face, feeling an indescribable sense of victory.***

I smiled gently at the male protagonist we'd just been discussing. "You should be careful not to be seen by the estate staff."

"If I'm not afraid, why should you be?" he challenged, those blue eyes glinting dangerously, like the deep sea, capable of drawing someone in to drown.

"Am I afraid?" I countered, forcing myself to meet his gaze. In truth, I had no desire to play this hunter-prey game with Alexander. It was too dangerous and offered me no benefit.

My life already contained enough hazards without entangling myself further with him, inviting unnecessary trouble.

His finger traced my cheek, a gesture both tender and possessive. "Are you really pregnant?"

This time, Alexander's expression was far more sincere than before, his eyes flickering with concern I'd never witnessed.

I was surprised he would care about such a thing. Was it because he thought the child might be his? Or was there another reason?

"No..." I replied calmly, striving to make my voice sound cold and distant.

"You know, for someone like me, any mistake before completing a mission could cost me my life. I'm still young with so much ahead of me. I don't want a grave bearing my name on the hillside."

As I spoke, I looked directly into his eyes, hoping he would understand my predicament. Here, I had no margin for error—any single mistake could prove fatal.

"Chloe... was she a failed case?" Alexander didn't release me, his fingers gently twirling a strand of hair that fell across my chest.

When he mentioned that name, his tone carried a hint of regret and sympathy, as if he truly understood my mother's story.

I bit my lip, complex emotions churning inside me. I'd never heard anyone speak of my mother this way, as if she were a casualty in some operation.

A strange anger and sadness rose within me. "I suppose so..." I said softly, my voice carrying a tremor I couldn't disguise.

The topic was too personal, too painful. Not wanting to say more, I broke free from Alexander's embrace and quickly stood up.

My lips quivered slightly, and I hoped he hadn't noticed. "You should go comfort Miss Harber. She's the one truly in distress," I said, changing the subject and attempting to regain composure.

"Don't all women enjoy throwing tantrums?" he asked lazily, leaning back in his chair, looking up at me. "

What about you? Do you need comforting?" He suddenly turned the conversation toward me.

The fact that he would compare me to Lillian irritated me. I hadn't grown up in a warm, loving family—I wasn't so easily upset. I thought bitterly.

If Lillian hadn't sought trouble without reason, I wouldn't have specifically targeted her. But Alexander seemed to attribute everything to female emotionality, an attitude I found exasperating.

"Alexander, even if I needed comfort, I wouldn't seek it from you," I responded coldly.

"Right, you have Richard, and that's enough..." Alexander reclined in his chair, one foot resting on the edge of the table. He studied me through half-closed eyes, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them, as if there were words he wanted to say but swallowed back. "Sometimes, a little excitement can be quite enjoyable..."

I didn't know what he meant, nor did I want to. Every conversation with Alexander felt like dancing on a knife's edge—dangerous yet thrilling.

I didn't answer, simply turning to go upstairs, feeling his gaze follow me all the way.