Chapter 167 Meet His Family
The police worked fast. After questioning Arabella, they turned to Anthony. When the officer learned they were divorced, his expression became decidedly complicated.
"Sir," he said, looking at Anthony with thinly veiled disapproval, "I understand you were married once, but the lady has clearly moved on. She's remarried. This kind of harassment needs to stop."
The officer was young, recently married himself, and he absolutely despised this kind of behavior. If you really loved her that much, where were you before? She'd divorced you, started a whole new life, and now you show up like this? Pathetic. But as a police officer, he couldn't say that out loud—only deliver a firm lecture.
Under official scrutiny, Anthony's attitude shifted. "I apologize. I overstepped," he said with practiced politeness. "I'm sorry you had to come all the way out here for this. Wasting police resources and your valuable time."
The officer waved dismissively, somewhat mollified by the cooperative response. "As long as you understand. Now stop bothering this woman and take your car and flowers with you. She has a new family. We don't harass people, got it?"
"You're absolutely right."
The officer gestured for Arabella to head upstairs. They waited until Anthony had someone come tow the sports car away before finally leaving.
Anthony stood alone in the plaza outside the CBD building, his expression dark. He'd been watching Arabella the entire time—she hadn't had a chance to call the police.
So who did?
He thought of the receptionist, how thrilled she'd looked when the cops showed up. His jaw tightened. Leo approached, looking uncomfortable. "Mr. Watson, what should we do with the car?"
The red Bugatti sat in all its ostentatious glory, surrounded by flowers in a display that screamed romantic desperation. Pedestrians kept stopping to stare.
Anthony tore his gaze away. "Contact the dealership," he said coldly. "Return it."
Leo nodded, unsurprised. The Watson Group's cash flow had been tight lately. This car cost nearly ten million dollars—for Anthony right now, that wasn't exactly pocket change.
He was about to leave when Anthony called him back. "Look into that receptionist. Her background, everything. I want it ASAP."
Leo's eyebrows rose slightly, but he was smart enough not to ask questions. He nodded and went to handle it. Anthony cast one last look at the company building, then turned and left without another word.
---
Shortly after they departed, a black Rolls-Royce pulled up discreetly at the curb. Moris finished a quick phone call, then turned to the back seat. "The police sent him packing, sir."
Alexander's expression remained neutral. "Let's go."
Moris hesitated, trying to read his boss's mood. Roy's warnings echoed in his head: Never make decisions for Mr. FitzRoy. When in doubt, ask. Whatever you do, don't screw things up. "Mr. FitzRoy, should we give the Green family a heads-up about this?"
Alexander glanced up, a slight smile playing at his lips. "No need."
Just a clown jumping around. Not worth the effort.
He'd thought creating problems for the Watson Group would make Anthony behave, keep him occupied. Apparently not. The man was drowning in business troubles and still found time to harass Arabella. Piling on more pressure probably wouldn't dissuade him either.
Besides, interfering too much risked tipping Anthony off, which would be counterproductive. The investigation's traces were already difficult to hide—if Anthony got suspicious and cleaned up the evidence more thoroughly, all their work would be wasted.
Better to let him see for himself how the woman he once discarded now wants nothing to do with him.
When the time was right, Alexander would make sure Arabella got everything she was owed. With interest.
"Keep someone watching," he said. "Report immediately if anything happens."
"Yes, sir." Moris paused. "Mrs. FitzRoy called earlier. She'll be here by five. She, um... thought your place was too small, so she bought you a large apartment downtown. Close to Ms. Bourbon's office, very convenient. She's giving it to you both as a gift tonight."
Alexander's eye twitched. "Tell her I don't need—" He stopped, sighed. "Never mind. I'll call her myself."
"Mr. FitzRoy, she said you have to accept this gift whether you like it or not." Moris chose his words carefully. "Last time you returned her present, she thought it over and decided a house is the perfect solution. This apartment isn't even that big, she said—barely cost her anything. Plus, she has a point. You got married and the groom's family provided nothing? She won't stand for it. The house is just the beginning. The rest will come later."
That was the diplomatic version. Chloe's actual words had been considerably more colorful, involving pointed questions about where he expected future children and pets to sleep, and what would happen if Arabella kicked him out after a fight—was he planning to sleep on the couch in front of the kid? Absolutely unacceptable!
Alexander rubbed his thumb against his phone. Whether convinced or simply resigned, he didn't call Chloe after all. After a moment's thought, he opened WhatsApp instead.
[Get off work a bit early tonight? I'll pick you up. Grandma has a surprise for us.]
---
When the message came through, Arabella was cornered by Faye and Gillian, both demanding answers about the scene downstairs.
"Hold on, let me reply first." She laughed, typing back a quick [Okay] before turning to face them with an exasperated smile. "I'll come clean, but you two need to brace yourselves."
"We're ready!" they said in unison, eyes gleaming.
They'd already guessed the juiciest part—the CEO of the Watson Group pursuing an employee at a small company. Heart-pounding, romance-novel-worthy gossip! They could practically picture it: love at first sight, the powerful CEO's relentless pursuit, an engagement, fighting off scheming rivals, battling the evil rich mother-in-law, and finally, their happily ever after.
That's how these things always went, right?
Arabella felt her skin crawl under their expectant stares. She cleared her throat. "Anthony is my ex-husband."
Their eyes went impossibly wide.
She pressed on calmly. "I'm already remarried. My husband sells insurance."
Silence.
The kind of silence that made the office AC sound deafening.
"I'm sorry," Arabella said, genuinely apologetic. "I wasn't trying to hide it. I just never found the right moment to bring it up."
Gillian recovered first, waving her hand. "Don't worry about it. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters."
Faye shook off her shock, curiosity taking over. "Were you and Mr. Watson a love match? What happened?"
Gillian shot her a warning look, but Faye was already backtracking. "Sorry, I'm such a gossip. You don't have to answer."
"It's fine. There's nothing to hide." Arabella's voice was matter-of-fact. "We fell in love, I married up. His first love came back. I caught them in bed together at a hotel. We had a prenup. I left with nothing."
"Holy crap!" Faye's hand flew to her mouth. "He looks so put-together—who knew he'd be such scum!"
Gillian's expression turned cold. "You think rich, handsome men are automatically good people? Please. That type is always trouble." She turned her sharp gaze on Faye. "When you get married someday, keep your eyes wide open. Don't let romance cloud your judgment until you've given everything away and have nothing left. Arabella's living proof of what can happen."
Her words were harsh, but Arabella knew Gillian's heart was in the right place. She nodded along. "She's right. You can be genuine in love, but never lose yourself in the process."
Faye mumbled, "I know, I know."
She and her boyfriend had been together since college—nearly four years now. They were planning to marry next year. But he came from a tiny county town, grew up poor with divorced parents, raised by his grandfather. Not only couldn't his family help with a house or car, they'd need support for his grandparents' care in the future. Plus, he had a younger brother to think about.
The pressure would be enormous.
Gillian had been dropping pointed hints ever since she learned about Faye's boyfriend's situation. The contrast was stark—Faye was a Majestic City native, an only child from a comfortable family. Her parents had already bought her a small apartment and a modest car.
Arabella wasn't optimistic about the relationship either, and not just because of money. Faye had mentioned her boyfriend sent half his income home every month. When she'd suggested he save some for their future, he'd brushed it off—her family had already provided the house and car, why save? Better to help his grandparents and brother live more comfortably.
He wasn't necessarily wrong, but they came from completely different worlds. These cross-class marriages... Arabella had serious doubts. She was living proof of how badly these things could go.
But it was someone else's life, someone else's choice. She could only offer gentle warnings and hope Faye listened.
Gillian sighed inwardly. They'd been dropping hints for months, but Faye clearly wasn't hearing them. Everyone has their own path, their own lessons to learn. As outsiders, they could only do so much.
Sensing the mood shift, Faye quickly pivoted. "Hey, Arabella, you should bring your husband out sometime! Let's all have dinner together."
"Sure. Bring your boyfriend too, and Gillian can bring her husband. We'll make it a group thing." Arabella smiled, grateful for the subject change.
"Perfect!" Gillian agreed.
They headed back to their desks, the conversation finally over.
---
When five o'clock rolled around, Alexander called. His voice was warm through the phone. "All wrapped up? I'm downstairs."
"Be right there."
Gillian and Faye exchanged knowing looks. "Hubby picking you up?"
Arabella grabbed her bag, smiling. "We're going to his grandmother's tonight."
"Ooh, meeting the family!" They shooed her away with dramatic hand waves. "Go, go! In-law relationships are tricky. Good luck!"
Honestly, Arabella felt pretty good about Alexander's family. Chloe was genuinely lovely to be around. Even Vera, who clearly had reservations about her, wasn't malicious—she wore every emotion on her face, which Arabella found oddly refreshing.
But tonight felt different. The stakes had changed. Before, meeting Alexander's family had been part of their arrangement, practically a business obligation. Now... if nothing went wrong, these people would be her family for the next several decades.
The realization sent a flutter of nerves through her stomach as she headed downstairs.
Alexander was waiting by the car. When he saw her, he smiled and held out a bag.
Arabella peeked inside—a sandwich and a carton of milk. She looked up, confused. "I thought we were having dinner at Chloe's?"
His expression turned sheepish, almost apologetic. "You know how excited my family's been about me getting married. Well, the news has spread. So tonight you're meeting..." He paused. "Quite a few people."
He'd only found out this afternoon that his grandmother had announced his marriage to the entire family. Tonight wouldn't just be his grandmother and mother. His father would be there—whom he barely saw these days. His uncle's family. His second uncle's family. The whole clan.
Both uncles had rocky relationships with him, old grudges from power struggles over family control. Alexander had no idea why his grandmother insisted on inviting them.
He'd wanted to postpone Arabella meeting them, but his grandmother had been adamant. He had to come, and he had to bring his wife.
She'd raised him. In the entire FitzRoy family, only his grandmother commanded that level of respect and obedience. Even his parents came second.
So he'd agreed, but made one condition: his uncles had to behave. He couldn't risk anything derailing his carefully orchestrated plan to win Arabella's heart for real.
"With that many people, you probably won't get much chance to actually eat." He gestured at the bag. "Better have something now."
Arabella heard something entirely different in those words.
Their marriage had started as an arrangement. She'd only met Chloe and, accidentally, his mother. That was it.
But now—just one day after they'd decided to make this real, to build something genuine—he was introducing her to his entire family.
Didn't that mean he actually valued her? That this mattered to him?
Warmth bloomed in her chest, though nervousness quickly overshadowed it.
Meeting the whole family. This was really happening.