Chapter 170 Unconditionally Given
One dinner, and she was walking around with over six million dollars in bank cards. The whole ride home, Arabella felt like she was floating outside her body.
She'd avoided asking too many questions before—didn't want to seem like she was after anything. But now? She couldn't not ask.
Because tonight had been seriously weird.
The house, she could understand. Groom's family provides the home, standard procedure. But multiple people giving bank cards as wedding gifts, loaded with insane amounts of money? That wasn't normal.
In regular families, when a kid got married, elders might give a few thousand as a wedding gift—maybe ten thousand if they were feeling generous. These relatives, who didn't even seem to like Alexander much, were casually dropping hundreds of thousands... which meant hundreds of thousands was pocket change to them.
Arabella wrestled with herself before finally working up the courage. "Your dad—" She paused, then corrected herself. "Our dad. What does he do?"
Alexander's hands stilled briefly on the steering wheel. His expression didn't change. "He runs a small studio overseas. Does appraisals for art pieces and jewelry."
Arabella was genuinely impressed. Running an international appraisal studio was pretty high-end work. She hadn't realized Alexander's father was so accomplished.
After a moment, she said, "So you're actually kind of a trust fund kid."
She couldn't quite identify her feelings. Surprise, sure, but also a strange sense of inevitability clicking into place. Alexander had always seemed so decent and kind. Despite having an ordinary sales job, he never seemed strapped for cash. So many things about him hadn't quite added up. Now they did.
His family was loaded.
A faint sense of inadequacy crept through her—one she didn't fully recognize. Her smile felt stiff as she said, almost too brightly, "You're really impressive, you know. Coming from money but still working so hard."
Alexander caught the shift in her mood immediately. After a beat, he said carefully, "My dad only has eyes for my mom. I've been the unwanted kid my whole life. Before I found you, he threatened to disown me and kick me out because I wouldn't date anyone. You saved me. They're probably grateful to you."
Arabella, who'd been threatened by Vera multiple times in private: ...
I appreciate the flattery attempt, but that's laying it on a bit thick.
She fingered the bank cards, then asked, "What about your uncle Robert and uncle Neil? What do they do?"
Alexander kept his eyes firmly forward. "Uncle Robert sells coal. Uncle Neil farms."
After tonight's revelations, he'd realized Arabella's sudden mood change probably stemmed from learning his family was wealthy. Combined with the shock of those three bank cards, she was likely feeling out of her depth.
Not good. He'd worked so hard to get this far. Family background could not become a wedge between them.
Uncle Robert owned two coal mines—calling him a coal seller wasn't technically wrong. Uncle Neil ran a high-end produce farm—farmer also fit.
Obviously their assets went way beyond that, but right now he just needed to smooth this over with his wife.
Arabella, however, felt like he was treating her like a three-year-old.
If it was really that simple—Robert selling coal, Neil farming—how could they afford designer suits and casually drop hundreds of thousands? They probably owned businesses like Marvin, small factories or something.
She'd thought this marriage was between equals, a good match. Turned out she'd married up again.
Her mood thoroughly complicated, she fell silent for the rest of the drive.
When they got home, Alexander turned on the lights. Arabella went to change in the bedroom. On impulse, she pulled out the property deed to look at it.
This was actually her first time seeing one. Her father's old apartment had been assigned by his work unit and never properly registered. Her friends Philip and Daisy were both disasters financially. She'd simply never encountered one before.
Curious, she opened it. Her casual mood shattered the instant she saw the owner's name.
Arabella stared at her own name for at least a full minute.
Wasn't this supposed to be from Alexander's family to both of them? So why was only her name on the deed?
That alone she might have rationalized—gifts given after marriage were joint property regardless of whose name appeared. Maybe Alexander's name just wasn't needed for some reason. Don't overthink it.
Except tucked inside the deed was a notarized gift agreement.
Black and white, clear as day: This property is unconditionally gifted to Arabella alone.
Unconditionally. To her alone.
This wasn't some sidewalk produce stand. This was a ten-million-dollar house!
She ran out clutching the deed. "What is this?"
Alexander glanced at it, completely casual. "Oh, that's a family tradition. You have to think carefully before marriage, because once you're married, divorce isn't allowed. Women inevitably sacrifice more in marriage because of childbearing and family care. So we always put the house in the wife's name. It's our stance, and it's compensation and commitment to her."
Arabella's eyes went wide. "You... you can do that?"
She'd never known wealthy people operated this way.
She'd thought all rich families were like the Watsons—guarding their wealth viciously, making wives work like servants for pitiful allowances, constantly calling them parasites and worthless.
Alexander nodded like this was perfectly normal. "Yeah. It's been the rule for a long time."
About thirty-some years, to be exact. Since his dad set it when pursuing his mom.
Of course he was going to carry on the tradition.
Thirty years was definitely "a long time," right?
Arabella had no idea about the linguistic sleight of hand. She just thought his family was genuinely wonderful—not just paying lip service to respecting women, but actually following through.
She smiled bitterly. "I guess I got lucky this time."
"Eh, it's pretty standard," Alexander said. "Most normal people would do the same."
Translation: What you dealt with before wasn't normal. It wasn't your fault.
Arabella caught his meaning, smiling without comment.
That night, she lay on her side of the bed as usual, thinking she'd have lunch with Daisy tomorrow. Today had been information overload. She needed to vent...
Lost in thought, she barely noticed Alexander turning off his bedside lamp and suddenly moving closer.
Her body went rigid. What was he... what did he want?
Tension flooded through her, heart hammering. She didn't dare even turn her head to look or ask.
Then Alexander's arm came around her, pulling her close. Feeling her stiffness, amusement flickered briefly in his eyes.
He explained, perfectly serious, "I think if we're going to develop feelings, we should start with small daily things. Physical contact, for example. So I'm suggesting that starting tonight, we sleep holding each other. Over time, it might create something different."
Wrapped in his embrace, Arabella felt her entire body burning up. His logic seemed off somehow, but also... kind of made sense?
When she stayed silent, Alexander cleared his throat and added, "We're in this for life. We should make every effort to adjust to each other. Don't you think?"
Arabella's brain turned to mush. Does 'adjusting to each other' require sleeping in each other's arms?
And after this step... what came next?
She didn't know the answer, didn't have time to analyze it. Most importantly—she liked this man. She didn't mind his touch.
Alexander reached across her to turn off her bedside lamp, half his body pressing over hers in the process.
The room plunged into darkness.
He settled back, drawing her into his arms.
In the blackness, the man's breathing was slightly heavy. The woman's was light. They tangled together. Both knew the other wasn't asleep.
Both Alexander and Arabella felt this was significant progress. Both were satisfied with the current situation.
Except Alexander was having a considerably harder time than Arabella.
Soft warmth in his arms, the woman he loved pressed this close—claiming he had no physical reaction would be a lie.
But he couldn't let himself react. Being allowed to hold her was already more than he'd hoped for. Asking for more would backfire.
They both slept well. When Arabella woke the next morning, Alexander had already gotten up. Her blankets were perfectly arranged—clearly he'd tucked her in.
She sat up groggily, not entirely sure where they stood now. Everything felt simultaneously natural and bizarre.
After a moment of confusion, she got up and washed. Alexander had taken Becky to school. He'd left breakfast on the table, still warm.
After eating, Arabella headed to work.
But before she reached the office, an unknown number called.
"Arabella! Hahaha! Feeling pretty smug, aren't you? Well, let's see if you're still smug after Molly's dead!"
Arabella frowned. "Cassidy?"
Cassidy sounded drunk, her voice unhinged. "You're really something, you know that? I'm impressed, truly impressed. You're backing me into a corner here, Arabella. Since you won't let me live in peace, neither of us is getting out of this happy!"
Arabella's frown deepened. Something was very wrong. Cassidy's words were too strange. "What happened? What did you do to Molly?"
"Hahaha! Useless little thing—why would I keep her around? I really didn't see it coming, you know. All his efforts, all for you! You're more cunning than I thought, Arabella. You win! But I'm not going down without a fight. I'm telling you, all of you are going to regret this!"
Arabella's chest tightened. Was Cassidy going to kill Molly? Or had she already...
Logic said to stay out of it. What was Molly to her, really? Just someone she used to know.
The moment Molly abandoned her and chose Cassidy, whatever bond they'd had severed completely.
But Arabella couldn't stop seeing that child's face in her mind. Even standing beside Cassidy with ambition blazing in her eyes, she'd looked so young.
She was only ten years old.
Wanting a better life wasn't wrong. Arabella had never blamed her for that. But did a ten-year-old with ambition who'd made ruthless choices deserve to die?
Arabella's conscience and reason battled fiercely. In the end, her conscience won. "Where are you?"
Cassidy laughed wildly. "Coming to find me? Hahaha! Come on then. See her corpse with your own eyes. Maybe then you'll finally give up."
She rattled off an address. Arabella leaned forward. "Driver, turn around up ahead. We're not going to the pharmaceutical company anymore. Luxurious Beauty Apartments."
The driver grunted acknowledgment. Arabella gripped her phone. The moment she hung up with Cassidy, she dialed 911 without hesitation.
She relayed everything Cassidy had said, her reasonable suspicions, and the apartment address. The operator said they'd dispatch the nearest unit—five minutes maximum. Keep the subject on the line if possible.
But when Arabella tried calling Cassidy back, no one answered.
Her heart climbed into her throat. Images flashed through her mind—Molly's ambitious eyes, then her sweet smile when Arabella first started helping her. The contrast made her chest ache.
Before she even reached Luxurious Beauty Apartments, the police called back. "Ms. Bourbon, we went to the address you provided. There's no woman or child matching your description. A family of three lives there—everything seems normal, no signs of distress."
Arabella's body went rigid. Her stomach dropped.
"She... this was a decoy?" Her voice came out rough. "Please, can you search the area? This woman is unstable—she's capable of anything. I think she deliberately gave me the wrong location to buy herself time to hurt the child..."
The officer hesitated. Her tone must have convinced him she wasn't hysterical. "Alright, we'll conduct a search of the surrounding buildings. But you understand, that's inefficient. Your best bet is still making contact with her directly. That might get us there in time."
Arabella knew that all too well. But Cassidy wasn't answering. What else could she do? She agreed and hung up, immediately trying Cassidy again.
Still just ringing into the void.
A terrible premonition swept through her. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled Anthony's number from her blocked list and called him.
Anthony was driving when he picked up. Surprise colored his voice, tinged with hope. "Arabella? Did you change your mind?"
Hearing his voice made her own turn cold reflexively. "Anthony, Cassidy's going to kill Molly. I've already called the police. If you know where she is, you need to stop her. Now."