Chapter 24 Discovered Eavesdropping
Terrence, a man rarely swayed by any woman, would have brushed off Bianca without a second thought.
Instead, he hesitated for a heartbeat before drawing her closer. He stayed silent, his eyes sharpening with a quiet, probing curiosity.
"When did it become anyone's business to question the woman who belongs to me?"
He let the silence stretch, his attention sweeping over James and Samuel before settling on Blair, whose face had gone rigid, her jaw tight enough to hurt.
"It seems someone has forgotten the Anderson family's rules," he continued, tone deceptively calm, each syllable deliberate. "I don't mind reminding you myself."
The air thickened. The room froze. No one dared to speak.
Bianca's nerves had been taut a moment ago, but his declaration loosened them like a hand unclenching. She pressed her lips together, fighting a smirk, and turned to the others with the confidence of someone shielded by a predator who could devour at will.
"My relationship with Terrence is none of your concern," she said, her voice steady despite the thrum in her chest. "We're doing just fine. I'd appreciate it if outsiders stopped interfering. I only want to live my life with him… nothing more."
Blair's nails dug into her palm hard enough to draw pain, though she barely noticed it over the rush of indignation. Bianca had kissed Terrence. And Terrence had protected her.
Samuel looked stunned, his breath caught in his throat. Bianca had never shown him such intimacy. Was she truly done with him? That single kiss had silenced every whisper in the room, leaving only the echo of what it meant.
The car ride back was heavy with unspoken words, the hum of the engine filling the void. Bianca broke the quiet first.
"Terrence… thank you for earlier."
Terrence turned his head slightly, his lips parting just enough to speak, his tone unreadable. "Samuel still seems to hold on to old feelings for you."
Bianca knew Terrence wouldn't mention Samuel without reason. He didn't waste thought on men like him unless it was tied to her. She shifted closer, wrapping her arms around his, tilting her face up so she could catch his expression.
"I swear, whatever I had with him is long gone. I was blind before, mistaking glass for diamonds, chasing something that never had any real worth. But now… now there's only room for you in my heart."
She drew a deep breath, gathering courage, and brushed a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth, her pulse quickening at the contact.
"You're my fiancé. The man I've chosen for the rest of my life. Your enemies are mine, and I'll fight your battles as if they were my own. Terrence… I love you. And I'm saying that only to you."
His throat worked, a flash of something dangerous crossing his features. His hand shot to her waist, pulling her against him so tightly it made her wince, the pressure almost possessive.
"Bianca," he said, voice low and rough, "remember what you said today. If you ever lie to me…"
He didn't finish the sentence, but the weight of it hung between them, heavy and unyielding. Behind the sunglasses, his eyes were locked on hers, unblinking.
"If I lie, you can deal with me however you wish." She didn't flinch, her gaze steady, meeting his without hesitation.
He said nothing more, but he didn't push her away either. Her closeness was silently allowed, his stillness a quiet concession.
Later that night, Bianca reached out in her sleep for the warmth beside her, only to find empty sheets. She woke fully, glancing at the clock — midnight, the hour when the world felt most hollow.
She coughed lightly, deciding to get a glass of water. Stepping into the hallway, she noticed a thin strip of light spilling from the study door, pale against the dark. Curiosity tugged at her, an instinct she couldn't quite suppress. She padded closer, careful with each step.
Through the narrow gap, she saw Terrence inside with Barry. The study's soundproofing was weak, and the stillness of the hour carried every word clearly.
"Find out everything," Terrence ordered, his voice low but absolute. "Including her entire history with Bianca."
Bianca's chest tightened, a mix of frustration and resignation curling through her. He still didn't fully trust her. She had done everything she could, yet his faith remained out of reach. Still, she believed she could melt the walls he'd built around his heart… in time.
She began to turn away, but her slipper slid. Pain shot through her ankle as it twisted, sending her to the floor with a gasp, the sound sharp in the quiet.
The study door flew open. Terrence's tall frame filled the doorway, his presence pressing down like a storm breaking overhead.
She looked up, forcing a small smile despite the sting in her ankle. "Good evening, Terrence."
His lips pressed into a line, eyes narrowing at her disheveled state and the swelling already visible at her ankle, his brow furrowing deeper.
She pushed herself up, but the pain made her grimace. Without a word, he bent down and scooped her into his arms, the motion swift but careful.
"Go home, Barry," he said over his shoulder, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Bianca instinctively looped her arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of him. Barry's gaze flicked between them before he nodded. "Good night, Mr. Anderson. Ms. Rodriguez."
Terrence carried her back to the master bedroom, setting her gently on the bed. She looked at him, awkwardly aware that he might suspect she had overheard his conversation.
"I didn't hear what you and Barry were talking about," she said quickly, words tumbling out. "Even if I had, I wouldn't repeat it. I was just thirsty, on my way to get water, and happened to pass by."
She added, "I'm fine now. You should go back and get some rest."
Awkward moments had a way of making people say things before their minds could catch up.
"You want me to leave my own room?" he asked, one brow lifting, his voice edged with amusement.
Her laugh was nervous, a thin sound in the stillness. She tried to get up, but his hand pressed her back down. Ignoring her protests, he used the room's intercom to request ice and ointment.
Two minutes later, he sat beside her, lifting her injured ankle onto his knee, his touch firm yet steady.
"I can do it myself," she said, reaching for the ointment.
Cold spread across her skin before she could touch it. He was already applying it, his fingers firm but careful over the swollen joint, the contrast of temperature making her shiver.
"That hurts… can't you be gentler?"
"You know it hurts, yet you still eavesdrop at the door?" His tone was mocking, but his touch softened without him realizing, the warmth of his hands mixing with the cool medicine, easing the ache in a way that made her heart twist and her breath catch.