Chapter 150 Suspicion
Louis was an enigmatic and prideful man, incredibly discerning about people and affairs, almost to the point of obsession. Very few earned his admiration, and even fewer could be considered family by him—such people were extremely rare!
Even Daphne, who shared the same Campbell family bloodline, had never received an ounce of warmth from Louis!
What gave Emily the right?
She was just the daughter of that disgraced Simon from the Johnson family!
The Johnson family had no connection whatsoever to the Campbell family!
How could Louis have developed such a deep relationship with Emily?
Daphne's mind raced through Clara's words. 'Emily has been jealous of me since childhood, targeting me at every turn.'
'To steal Charles away, she'd stop at nothing, even using her own children.'
'She's vicious and can't stand seeing me happy."
These words, combined with Emily's beautiful yet calculating face in Daphne's eyes, had convinced Daphne completely, especially since Emily was Charles's publicly announced girlfriend.
That was why Daphne had harbored such hatred toward Emily, even going so far as to use her connections to suppress Obscura Fashion once she discovered Emily owned the brand.
But now, Louis's attitude hit her like a resounding slap across the face!
What kind of man was Louis? He had exceptional judgment and extremely strict moral standards for those around him! People of poor character or devious minds—he couldn't even be bothered to glance at them, let alone protect them so fiercely!
For him to consider Emily family, even mobilizing Watson to directly confront the Scott family on her behalf, spoke volumes about Emily's character in his eyes. She had to be someone he truly cherished as a younger family member!
If Emily's character was beyond reproach, then what about Clara, who had been crying in her ear, accusing Emily of being so malicious?
How much of what Clara'd said was true?
Especially the parts about Emily being jealous and scheming against Clara?
A wave of intense suspicion and cold dread instantly gripped Daphne's heart.
For the first time, she began seriously examining Clara's identity—this niece she'd trusted implicitly based on a single sapphire pendant.
Was Clara really Scarlett's daughter?
Daphne unconsciously tightened her grip on the cold legal document fax. Looking at Emily's name on the paper, her expression grew impossibly complex—confusion, shock, and a slowly brewing anger at being deceived.
She shot to her feet and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the heavy darkness of night. Her voice was cold as she instructed the butler. "Investigate! I want Clara's background checked thoroughly. I need the most detailed report possible! Not a single detail can be missed! And arrange for paternity testing!"
In the top-floor VIP room of Emerald City's finest private hospital, only a dim wall sconce cast its yellow glow, stretching Charles's silhouette as he leaned against the headboard across the pristine white wall.
The air carried that distinctive hospital scent—a mixture of disinfectant and faint traces of blood.
Emily sat rigidly upright in the chair beside the bed. She'd just finished a lengthy phone call with the attorney, and exhaustion rose from the depths of her eyes like a tide.
Despite Louis's help, she still had to take the Genova BioTech situation seriously.
She couldn't afford to lose this lawsuit.
Surely other suppliers were watching this case closely. If Obscura Fashion lost, what awaited her next might be an endless stream of contract cancellations.
For Obscura Fashion's future, this battle had to be won!
"Emily." Charles's voice broke the silence.
Emily looked up at him, meeting those deep, ink-dark eyes. His gaze was focused to the point of greed, filled with undisguised heartache and concern.
"Leave the Genova BioTech matter to me." Charles's tone was a statement, not a suggestion. Seeing the faint dark circles under her eyes, watching her force herself to stay composed, he felt that the wolf bite on his chest was nothing compared to the sharp pain of watching her shoulder everything alone.
"I can negotiate with the Scott family. You don't have to exhaust yourself like this."
Emily avoided his overly intense gaze, looking out at the heavy darkness beyond the window. "I told you, I'll handle Obscura Fashion's affairs myself."
That same attitude of drawing clear boundaries again!
Charles's brow furrowed deeply, frustration building in his chest. He was used to controlling everything, used to giving orders, but with her alone, all his authority seemed to crash against an invisible wall of ice.
He didn't want to see her stubbornly struggling alone like this. He wanted to be her support, wanted her to instinctively rely on him.
"Emily..." he began again, his voice carrying a barely perceptible note of grievance?
Emily didn't respond, only frowning slightly as if concentrating on some particular matter.
Charles's gaze fell on her slender, pale hands resting on her knees.
An utterly out-of-character and almost absurd thought suddenly popped into his mind. He remembered how Ethan would sidle up whenever he wanted some little toy, or how Emma would cling to Emily's legs when she was scared of thunder, both children gazing up with those dewy, big eyes, softly calling Mommy.
That tactic seemed to work like a charm every time.
Charles's Adam's apple bobbed as he found the idea rather mortifying, but looking at her weary profile, that embarrassment was instantly crushed. He cautiously, tentatively reached out with one finger to gently hook her pinky where it rested on her knee.
The cool, delicate sensation against his fingertip made Emily's body stiffen, and she whipped her head around.
She saw Charles's usually stern face working hard to arrange itself into something resembling a pitiful expression.
His deep eyes widened slightly, earnestly attempting to mimic Emma's innocent, small-animal gaze. His voice was deliberately low and soft, carrying that characteristic husky magnetism but somehow managing to convey an incongruous note of wheedling.
"Emily, the wound really hurts. When you're not here, I can't sleep." As he spoke, he gently shook the finger hooked around her pinky, the movement as clumsy as a large dog just learning to beg for treats. "Don't carry everything alone. Let me help you, okay? Just a little bit."
Emily was completely stunned.
Was this man tugging at her pinky and trying to act pitiful, really the same Charles who was ruthlessly decisive in business and fearless when facing wolves?
She almost instantly thought of Emma clutching her little bunny plushie, gazing up with the same expression.
Something seemed to lightly scratch at her heart, both tender and soft, and her icy defenses actually cracked just a little. An indescribable warmth and a sense of helplessness surged within her.
"Charles, you..." Emily's voice caught in her throat. She wanted to scold him for being ridiculous, wanted to shake off his hand, but, meeting those eyes trying so hard to look pitiful, the words simply wouldn't come.
She even thought he looked exactly like an injured giant golden retriever desperately needing his owner's comfort, impossible to reject.