Chapter 87
Willow clearly felt the fury in Charles's eyes. Following his gaze to the Bentley, she immediately understood the source of his anger.
She frowned, about to speak, but Charles gave her no opportunity.
Pointing at the distant vehicle, he demanded furiously, "It's because of him, isn't it? I knew there was something between you two!"
In front of all the elderly residents, he accused Willow of infidelity.
"Tell me! When did it start?" Charles seized Willow's wrist, gripping it so tightly she thought it might break. "Was it on our wedding night? The next morning at Lancaster Manor, I thought the way he looked at you seemed strange!"
His eyes were filled with suspicion.
If they weren't in public, Willow had no doubt he would have stripped her clothes off to inspect her thoroughly.
The seniors didn't understand their dispute, but they clearly saw Charles's aggressive behavior. Seeing him grab Willow, one of them immediately intervened.
"Let her go! You claim you never hurt her, but what do you call this?"
An elderly man stepped forward, trying to pry Charles's hand away.
Consumed by rage, Charles barely glanced at him before shoving him aside.
The old man cried out in pain as he fell hard to the ground.
"Mr. Johnson!" Willow's heart clenched in alarm. She tried to help him, but Charles maintained his grip on her wrist.
"Let me go! Charles! Mr. Johnson fell!" Willow demanded through gritted teeth.
Charles kept his eyes fixed on her. "That's not my concern. First, tell me about you and Ster—"
Before he could finish, Willow's palm connected forcefully with his cheek.
Caught off guard, Charles's head snapped to the side. The inside of his cheek cut against his teeth, filling his mouth with the taste of blood and fueling his rage.
"You'd hit me for him?" he seethed.
This wasn't the first time Willow had slapped him, but previously Charles had always managed to calm down. This slap, however, pushed him further into fury.
Still gripping her wrist, he advanced toward her step by step.
Charles radiated such menace, especially after pushing down Mr. Johnson, that the other seniors dared not approach.
Willow retreated cautiously. Charles wasn't moving quickly, but each time her foot touched the ground, pain shot through her ankle.
After a few steps, cold sweat beaded on her back, and her stance grew unsteady.
Suddenly, she stepped on something and lost her balance.
Charles instinctively reached out to catch her, but remembering her connection with Sterling, he pulled back his hand and released her wrist, watching coldly as she fell to the ground.
To onlookers, it appeared as though he had pushed her down.
From the car at the roadside, Blake observed the increasingly tense situation. The atmosphere inside the vehicle seemed to be darkening in parallel.
When Willow fell, the pressure in the car dropped to its lowest point.
Blake was about to ask if he should help Willow when he heard movement behind him. He turned to see Sterling opening the door and stepping out. Blake quickly followed.
Meanwhile, Willow sat awkwardly on the ground, her face pale from the intense pain in her ankle, unable to stand.
The elderly residents looked concerned but were afraid to approach. They simply glared at Charles with disgust.
"Willow, I'll give you one more chance," Charles crouched before her, struggling to keep his voice calm. "Tell me, have you slept with him?"
"He doesn't lack for women—all types. You're beautiful, yes, but that's not enough leverage. He's not interested in someone like you. If it's money or respect you want, I can provide that. Give up on him."
He repeatedly questioned Willow's relationship with Sterling, yet never believed Sterling would genuinely be interested in someone like her.
For Sterling, options were abundant. Women as beautiful as Willow were rare but not absent from his circle. Women as talented as Willow surrounded him.
And all of them had far better backgrounds than she did.
As the head of the Lancaster family, Sterling was destined for a strategic marriage. He would never choose someone without connections like Willow.
In Charles's mind, any relationship must be Willow's pursuit, not Sterling's. Perhaps Sterling was only tolerating her proximity because she was Charles's wife.
If nothing substantial had happened between them, he could forgive Willow if she turned back now.
All he needed was her honest answer.
Willow's lips parted.
Charles's anger subsided, thinking she was about to confess. He leaned closer to hear clearly.
"Charles, you're a bastard," Willow said, each word clear and firm.
Not the answer he wanted.
Charles clenched his jaw, struggling to contain his fury. "Willow..."
A tall shadow fell across them.
Charles looked up angrily, his expression freezing when he recognized the newcomer.
Willow didn't need to look up—she recognized Sterling's scent. Embarrassed by her disheveled state, she kept her gaze lowered.
"Uncle Sterling." Charles stood to face him at eye level, unwilling to remain in a crouched position.
Sterling's expression was cold and severe. "Charles, when did the Lancaster family ever teach you it was acceptable to manhandle women?"
He then instructed Blake, "Take Ms. Spencer upstairs."
Blake complied, carefully helping Willow to her feet and guiding her toward the entrance.
Willow kept her eyes down, grateful that Sterling had sent Blake instead of helping her himself, sparing her further embarrassment in his presence.
They had taken only a few steps when Charles shouted behind them, "Stop right there!"
Blake continued walking, ignoring him.
Charles moved to block their path. "I said stop!"
Willow frowned slightly.
"Mr. Lancaster Jr., you seem to have lost your composure," Blake said smoothly. "I work for Mr. Sterling Lancaster at Lancaster Group headquarters, not for Everpine Group. Your orders have no authority over me. Unless you're planning to physically stop us in public?"
Charles could only clench his teeth in frustration.
"This way, Ms. Spencer," Blake said, guiding Willow around Charles and into the complex.