Chapter 173 Chalk It Up to Your Good Memory
Warmth spread through Arabella's chest. She'd always been independent, used to shouldering everything alone. But sometimes having someone stand beside you, telling you not to be afraid, facing things together—that feeling was irreplaceable. Like Daisy. Like Philip. And like... Alexander.
Half an hour later, the taxi pulled up to the hospital entrance. The moment Arabella stepped out, she spotted Anthony waiting. His eyes lit up when he saw her, a sad smile crossing his face. "I knew you'd come. I've been waiting."
He started toward her. Daisy immediately stepped between them. "You can talk from right there. Why do you need to get so close? Back up. We're not friends."
Anthony's brow furrowed. "This is between Arabella and me. A child is dead. We're both grieving. Could you not make this harder?"
Daisy scoffed loudly. "Please. I know exactly what you're up to. We're here to say goodbye to Molly. That's it. This has nothing to do with you. If Arabella needs comforting, her husband can handle it. You're nobody."
Anthony's face went pale with barely suppressed rage, though he couldn't seem to formulate a response. Arabella ignored his emotional state entirely, turning to Daisy. "Let's go in."
Daisy nodded, gripping Arabella's arm protectively and shooting Anthony a withering glare as they passed. She dropped one final bomb over her shoulder. "Arabella was blind when she fell for you. Thank god she wised up. Give up on your remarriage fantasy—she's not an idiot."
Anthony stood there, fists clenching as he glared at Daisy's retreating back, violent fury surging through him. What was wrong with being with him? Would he let Arabella suffer? Even during their marriage, he'd never mistreated her financially! Being a wealthy CEO's wife—how was that worse than marrying some nobody insurance salesman? He was the head of the Watson Group, and people looked down on him like this?
His face cycled through several emotions before he finally collected himself, smoothing his expression back into that refined, cultured mask. He followed after them.
---
Molly's body was in the morgue. Arabella had been here once before, three and a half years ago, to say goodbye to her mother. Being back made her skin crawl with discomfort. She squeezed Daisy's hand tightly.
Daisy squeezed back, whispering, "We'll just take a quick look, then leave."
Arabella nodded. Logically, she had no reason to be here. What was Molly to her, really? Just a kid she'd sponsored once. But they'd shared a connection, however it had ended. She felt she owed it to Molly to see her off.
Leo was waiting inside. Seeing Arabella, he hurried over. "Mrs. Watson, this way."
Arabella's frown deepened. "We're divorced. Don't call me that."
Leo smiled apologetically. "Sorry. Mr. Watson has never stopped considering you family, so I sometimes forget. I'll be more careful." The comment made Arabella's skin prickle with discomfort, but she'd probably never see these people again anyway. No point wasting breath on them. She was here for Molly.
Leo led her to the small form under a white sheet—such a slight outline, barely there. Suddenly Arabella's heart ached terribly. That proud, ambitious little girl who'd dreamed of being somebody important—she was really gone.
Leo pulled back the sheet. Even after the morticians' work, Molly's small body looked devastated. Daisy, who had no attachment to Molly, gripped Arabella's hand fearfully. Arabella wasn't afraid. She looked at that tiny broken body for a long moment before whispering, "May you live happily in Heaven."
Because Daisy was scared, they didn't stay long. As soon as they stepped out, Anthony strode toward them. "Did you see her?" He looked at Arabella intently.
She nodded, treating him with the indifference reserved for strangers, then turned to leave with Daisy.
Anthony felt something strange twist in his chest. When Arabella had revolved around him, he'd found it annoying. When she'd been heartbroken over him and Cassidy, that had been irritating too. But now, watching her look at him with neither love nor hate, like he was absolutely nothing to her—something in his chest felt like it was being stabbed with needles.
He caught up, grabbing her arm. "Arabella, I need to talk to you."
Daisy slapped his hand away. "That's sexual harassment, Anthony. What, you think Arabella's desperate? You threw her away like trash and expected her to wait around? Your belated affection is worthless! She's moved on. If you had an ounce of decency, you wouldn't be pulling this pathetic stalker routine."
Anthony's expression darkened. He gave Leo a subtle signal. Leo immediately seized Daisy. Her face changed as she kicked and fought. "Let go of me! What the hell are you doing? This is a civilized society—you touch one hair on Arabella's head and I'll end you!"
But Leo was Anthony's carefully chosen assistant-slash-bodyguard, trained in combat. Even with Daisy's self-defense skills, she couldn't break free. Leo forcibly dragged her away.
"Let her go!" Arabella demanded, fury barely contained.
Anthony looked at her with theatrical tenderness. "Don't worry. Leo won't hurt her. I just need to talk to you. She's in the way, and I don't like what she's saying. Better if she cools off somewhere else so she doesn't interrupt us."
Arabella's frown deepened. She stepped back, regarding him warily. "Anthony, I don't owe you anything. I have zero interest in getting back together. We have nothing to discuss."
"Arabella, saying that breaks my heart." Anthony's expression turned pained. "Whatever Alexander can give you, I can too. Whatever he can't give you, I can. What does he have that I don't? Tell me. I can change."
Arabella almost laughed. "Do you hear yourself?"
Anthony gazed at her with practiced longing. "Arabella, I know I was wrong before. I want to show you my commitment. I've thought it all through—after we remarry, if you can't have children, it's fine. I'll talk to my mother. We can use a surrogate."
The words left Arabella completely unmoved. "Thank you for the concession, but I don't need it. I love my husband. I'm not divorcing him."
Anthony pulled a bank card from his pocket, holding it out. "This is what I owed you from the divorce. I'm giving it to you now. Arabella, I just want you to know—I can give you so much. Money, power, status. Remarry me and you can have everything."
Arabella looked at the card. Some perverse curiosity made her ask, "How much is on there?"
Thinking she was tempted, Anthony answered quickly, "Two hundred thousand dollars. The company's cash flow is tight right now, but I'm not shortchanging you a penny. Don't feel bad about taking it. What's mine is yours."
Arabella's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.
Oh. Only two hundred thousand. The man she'd once been so insecure about loving, the man she'd made herself small for, thought he could tempt her with two hundred thousand. She used to think that amount was an insurmountable gap—that's why she'd acted like a servant in his presence, trying desperately to be worthy of him. But now? Forget the two hundred thousand-plus she already had in her own accounts. Just the card her father-in-law had casually handed her last night contained six hundred thousand.
And they'd bought her a twenty-million-dollar house. Outright. No strings attached. Just to make sure she felt secure.
Not that she was mercenary about it. But the comparison? Stark as hell.
She looked at Anthony calmly. "Last night I had dinner with Alex's family. They gave me a house, paid in full. Downtown location, worth over twenty million. They were worried I'd feel uncomfortable, so they included a no-strings gift agreement. My father-in-law gave me the decorating budget—six hundred thousand dollars. The card's in my purse right now."
Seeing the shock Anthony couldn't hide, Arabella continued, her smile slight but genuine. "I'll be honest with you. I loved you once. I hated you too. I'm past all that now. I'm not telling you this hoping you'll counter with more money. I'm telling you because in your eyes, I'm just a suitable wife candidate, and you're willing to pay an appropriate price to buy me back. But to other people?" Her voice softened. "I'm a treasure. A valued family member. It has nothing to do with whether I've been married before or whether I can have children."
She thought of Alexander's words, her entire expression warming. "Everything they gave me is based solely on me being his wife. Nothing else. Not a transaction."
Her smile radiated happiness—the kind that made Anthony see red. Indescribable rage surged through him. He shoved her against the wall, pinning her there, fingers digging into her shoulders hard enough to bruise. "So that's it?" he hissed. "A house and six hundred thousand bought you? What about us? What about our history, all our memories together?"
In the distance, Daisy heard this shameless garbage and screamed, "Yeah, chalk it up to your good memory and your patheticness! Let go of Arabella! Fuck you!"
Fury blazed in Anthony's eyes. "Make her shut up!" he barked at Leo.
Leo quickly clamped his hand over Daisy's mouth. She struggled and kicked violently, but couldn't break his hold. Goddamn Anthony! Try this shit in front of Alexander and see what happens—he'll destroy you!
Anthony's grip on Arabella's shoulders hurt. Seeing Daisy restrained, Arabella's eyes went ice cold. "Don't make me lose all respect for you. Let. Go."
Anthony stared at her—angry, reluctant, lovesick, conflicted. His throat worked. Finally, he grabbed her chin, forcing her head up, and kissed her.
Daisy's eyes went huge with rage. She fought like hell against Leo's grip. Leo clamped his hand tighter over her mouth, terrified of disrupting his boss and facing punishment later.
Arabella hadn't expected Anthony to stoop this low. She struggled, but he held her jaw locked in place. Despair washed over her. If Anthony actually kissed her, it would be like getting bitten by a rabid dog. Disgusting. Revolting. Nauseating.
Suddenly, tremendous force came from behind. A hand seized Anthony's collar and slammed him into the wall with devastating power.
Anthony's body crashed into concrete. Every bone felt shattered. Copper flooded his throat—he coughed up blood.
Alexander didn't spare him a glance. He walked straight to Arabella, expression gentle despite the violence he'd just committed, eyes filled with concern. "Are you hurt?"
Arabella shook her head, managing a smile despite the trembling in her limbs. "I'm fine."
Thank god you came. Thank god you came in time.
Tears pricked her eyes, though her smile hid them. No one knew how overwhelmed with gratitude she felt in this moment.
Alexander reached up, stroking her hair with infinite gentleness. "Go find Daisy."
Arabella blinked, turning. Two strangers—clearly Alexander's people—had Leo pinned on the ground. Daisy broke free and ran over, still shaken, grabbing Arabella's arm. Tears filled her eyes. "Are you okay? Did that bastard hurt you?"
"I'm fine. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay too." Daisy paused, pulling Arabella aside slightly, her voice dropping. "Mr. FitzRoy..."
Arabella turned to look.
Alexander walked toward Anthony with deliberate, measured steps. He grabbed Anthony's collar, hauling him half upright, then drove his fist into Anthony's face with brutal precision.
Anthony howled in pain, too weak to fight back. Alexander's expression remained utterly blank, eyes glacial, fists merciless. He struck Anthony's face, his body, his ribs—over and over with methodical violence.
In that moment, Anthony saw him as the devil incarnate. Alexander's expensive suit didn't have a single wrinkle. Only his fist moved, ruthless and unforgiving, each blow landing with sickening thuds. Anthony heard his own ribs crack—felt them splinter.
After what felt like an eternity of blows, blood streamed from Anthony's mouth and nose. Arabella rushed forward, grabbing Alexander's arm. "Alex, stop! If you kill him, we'll go to prison. He's not worth it."
Alexander had his back to her. The instant she grabbed him, he froze—terrified of accidentally hurting her. Hearing her words, he immediately lowered his hand, turning to face her. The ice in his expression melted like snow in sunlight, replaced by infinite warmth. "Okay. Whatever you say."
He wrapped an arm around Arabella's waist protectively, guiding her toward the exit. Daisy followed close behind. No one spared the man crumpled on the floor like garbage a second glance.
As Alexander's group departed, the men he'd brought retreated as well. Only then could Leo finally rush to Anthony's side, voice panicked. "Mr. Watson, are you alright?"
Even as he asked, Anthony's condition spoke for itself. Blood everywhere, face swelling grotesquely, ribs clearly broken. Internal and external injuries—obviously serious.