Chapter 183 Go Apologize
Alexander's injuries weren't serious. So after observation in the ER all morning, he was cleared to leave.
Arabella walked with him to the hospital entrance. "You should go home and rest. I need to get back to the office."
She'd just run out this morning—had to call a coworker to file her leave request for her. Her work hadn't been arranged ahead of time. So she couldn't stay away too long.
Alexander's face was still somewhat pale. "I'm heading that direction anyway. Let's share a cab."
Arabella smiled slightly. "Someone of your status shouldn't need to take cabs, right? Even Daisy's dad has his own driver. You must have been so uncomfortable all this time, trying to match my lifestyle."
Coming from someone else, those words would've dripped with sarcasm. But Alexander understood Arabella—she wasn't like that. When she said this, it was because she genuinely felt bad that he'd been inconvenienced.
"Money is just a tool for living. How a person lives should be determined by their preferences, not by money." Alexander looked down at her, his voice gentle. "For me, being with the person I like—I'd be happy living any way at all."
Hearing those words, Arabella's ears turned pink. She felt pathetically flustered for a few seconds. Just as she collected herself and prepared to respond, she realized Alexander had already hailed a taxi.
His suit was wrinkled from the accident. His pale wrist bore scrapes. But standing there, opening the car door for her, smiling as he said "get in"—somehow he seemed more attractive than ever before.
Arabella wrestled her pounding heart under control and said politely, "Thank you," before getting in.
Alexander slid in from the other side. After giving the driver her office address, he pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and handed it to her.
"What is it?" Arabella didn't dare take it.
Based on past experience, anything she casually accepted from him would turn out to be ridiculously expensive. She didn't dare touch it now.
"This morning was too rushed. Didn't have time to show you." Alexander's voice was low and pleasant. "A gift Grandma prepared for you. She sent it to me last night. She wants us to come over tonight."
Arabella looked at the photo on the phone—a case of glass bottles filled with white liquid. "Is this... milk?"
"Mm." Alexander looked at her, his expression sincere. "Arabella, I know you're angry about me hiding things before. Whatever measures you decide to take, I have no right to interfere. But the old lady is innocent. She doesn't know what consequences this has caused. Even if just to put her mind at ease, could you come back with me tonight? Please, just help me out this once."
He'd put it that way—what could Arabella say? Chloe had always doted on her. This whole thing had come to light because of Chloe's slip-up. If the old woman found out that her accidental reveal of Alexander's identity had caused them to part ways, she'd probably feel terribly guilty.
So even if Arabella wanted to cut ties with everyone in the FitzRoy family, she couldn't show it at this critical moment. She had to keep up the act with Chloe for a few more days at least.
After some time passed, when Chloe wouldn't connect their breakup to this incident, she could have Alexander find an excuse to tell Chloe that their relationship had fallen apart.
Getting her agreement, Alexander seemed genuinely happy. His lips curved unconsciously. Arabella watched him, frozen for a second.
Before, she'd always felt like there was plenty of time. Though she liked him, the feeling hadn't been that intense. But now, facing the prospect of becoming strangers, Arabella suddenly discovered she seemed to have an almost irresistible attraction to every version of Alexander.
Like now—the gentle curve of his lips, the light unconsciously flowing from his deep-set eyes—all of it made her heart race out of control.
He really was so handsome. Like, seriously, ridiculously handsome.
Arabella awkwardly forced herself to look away. Good grief, when did she become such a hopeless fangirl?
To avoid embarrassing herself further, Arabella didn't dare glance at Alexander even once for the rest of the ride.
She therefore missed the flash of amusement in the man's eyes beside her.
Well, say what you would about his mom—she might be childish, but that "Charming Man Playbook" of hers actually worked pretty well.
Hopefully he could master it as quickly as his dad had and charm his wife into complete infatuation, bringing her home sooner than later.
Throughout the drive, both of them were lost in their own thoughts, and neither spoke again. They quickly arrived at Arabella's office building. She said goodbye to Alexander and practically flew out of the car clutching her bag.
She didn't even dare glance at him before leaving.
Alexander's lips quirked up. In a good mood, he told the driver, "Turn around, please."
He'd missed a very important meeting this morning. It had been delayed long enough.
The driver acknowledged and quickly turned back the way they came.
Not long after the taxi left, a black Maybach pulled up across the street.
Leo turned to look at the man in the back seat, asking hesitantly, "Mr. Watson, should we keep following? He's got too many people protecting him in the shadows. This morning's attempt was pure luck. Even if we keep tailing him, I doubt we can do anything more."
Anthony sat in back wearing dark sunglasses, staring coldly in the direction Alexander had gone.
Who knew Alexander would be so lucky? That close, that high a speed—the driver who'd rammed him had died on impact, yet Alexander was fine.
That cheap-looking car of his must have had serious safety modifications inside. Talk about valuing his life.
At this point, Alexander's identity was basically confirmed. Following him further wouldn't accomplish much.
Anthony said coldly, "Is my mother back yet?"
Leo replied, "Just got in touch with her this morning. She's been playing bridge all night at a club. When I told her you needed to discuss something, she said she'd come home by noon."
Anthony's brow furrowed. "Still playing cards at a time like this? Go get her."
Leo quickly responded, "Yes, sir."
They soon arrived at the club. This establishment was popular with wealthy socialites because it offered male companionship—from waiters to escorts, every one of them handsome young men. Those society ladies ate it up.
When Anthony and Leo found Jennifer, she was stuffing a huge stack of chips into the arms of a scantily clad young man beside her, leaning against his shoulder. "Keep going. I've got plenty of money. I'm not afraid of you losing—I'm only afraid you won't have enough fun!"
The young man fawned shamelessly over Jennifer, making her beam with delight. The two of them kept making physical contact. The whole scene was pretty wild.
Anthony had always known his mother liked to play around privately, but he hadn't realized she'd taken it this far. With the Watson family's cash flow on the verge of collapse, she was still casually buying tens of thousands in chips to give away.
Looking at that young man, killing intent flashed through Anthony's eyes.
"Mom." His face dark, he strode over.
Seeing her son arrive, Jennifer panicked. She quickly pushed the young man away and stood up, straightening her clothes. "Anthony, what are you doing here?"
The young man apparently thought Anthony was competition—another man living off rich women. Obviously annoyed at someone muscling in on his territory, he deliberately hooked his arm around Jennifer's. "Jennifer, you can't forget your old love just because you found someone new."
Anthony looked at the young man, his gaze ice-cold. The guy couldn't help shivering under that stare.
Jennifer quickly pulled the young man behind her and smiled at Anthony. "Leo said you needed to talk to me about something. What is it?"
"We'll talk at home." Anthony turned and left the private room.
Jennifer spent time in the room soothing the young man and promising him various benefits before finally saying goodbye to her card-playing friends.
These friends all followed her lead—their husbands all relied on the Watson Group for their livelihoods. They spent time with Jennifer mainly to flatter her and keep her happy, so naturally they said nothing.
Jennifer came out from the private room to find Anthony waiting at the door. She offered an explanation. "I was just playing around."
"I know." Anthony's face showed no expression, though his tone was understanding. "After all, you don't have much to do at home. Nothing wrong with unwinding a bit."
Hearing this, Jennifer finally relaxed.
She asked Anthony, "So what exactly did you need to discuss with me?"
Anthony walked toward the exit while giving Leo a look. Leo understood and stayed by the private room door instead of going in.
Anthony said to Jennifer, "Let's talk about it properly at home."
After they left, Leo immediately called several people. "Come grab someone."
Watson Villa.
After hearing Anthony out, Jennifer shot to her feet in disbelief. "What did you say? That bitch Arabella married some insurance salesman who's actually the head of the FitzRoy Group?"
She instinctively rejected the idea. "That's ridiculous, Anthony. Where did you hear this gossip? That guy's just an insurance salesman. Didn't you even call his boss? Besides, someone like Arabella—how could she possibly marry into that kind of elite family? Absolutely impossible!"
Anthony sat in an armchair smoking, legs crossed, posture refined but expression cold. "I already called the boss of the company where Alexander works. He admitted it. The company is a FitzRoy family business. Alexander's just listed on the insurance company's books—he's not actually an employee."
Jennifer's legs gave out. She collapsed onto the sofa.
What did this news mean?
The Arabella she'd oppressed and humiliated before had transformed into someone even she couldn't hope to match.
Jennifer's heart filled with resentment and unwillingness. Suddenly, she thought of another terrifying possibility. "Then all the recent troubles the Watson family has faced—could it all be Arabella..."
"Mom, you're way too hostile toward Arabella." Anthony glanced at her, his tone bland. "You've always had issues with her. But this time, I don't care what you think inside—you need to come with me to see her."
Jennifer's eyes went wide. "Anthony, you can't possibly want me to apologize to her? I'm the lady of the Watson family—"
Anthony cut her off, reminding her, "She's FitzRoy family now."
Though this reality deeply irritated him, Anthony hadn't gotten where he was by being mindlessly reckless. He'd wanted to arrange an accident to kill that FitzRoy bastard, but it had failed. Finding another opportunity in the short term would be impossible.
If the Watson family was going to survive this crisis, only one path remained.
Bowing his head to Alexander.
When it came to the Watson family's survival, Anthony wouldn't be stubborn.
But what he wanted—he'd never give that up easily either.
Jennifer sat there dejected for a long moment before saying, "I won't go."
Making her bow her head to Arabella? Might as well ask her to die. She couldn't do it!
Anthony frowned. "That pretty boy you're keeping—Bruce, isn't it?"
Jennifer's expression froze. She stared at him in disbelief. "Are you threatening me?"
Anthony's tone was light as air. "Not a threat. I just hope you can recognize one thing clearly—you and the Watson family sink or swim together. Mom, I hope you'll prioritize the bigger picture."
Jennifer pressed her lips together, struggling internally for a long time before finally nodding. "When do we go?"
Anthony checked his watch and stood up. "Right now."
He turned to grab his coat and headed out. Jennifer quickly stood and followed, anxiously instructing him, "I agreed to go see Arabella with you—don't touch Bruce. He's different from those other men. He truly loves me. Plus he's a college student, very ambitious, with a bright future ahead."
Anthony walked ahead. Hearing this, his lips twisted slightly. He said nothing.
Truly loves her? Loves her age? Loves her out-of-shape body and sagging skin? Or loves her money?
Over the years, he'd spoiled his mother until she'd completely lost perspective.
The two were heading out when suddenly commotion erupted outside the villa.
Anthony frowned and looked out.
A middle-aged woman with a half-grown kid was wailing at the gate. The servants had tried to chase them off several times but couldn't get rid of them. The guards didn't dare get physical, only standing by trying to persuade them, but the two wouldn't listen.
Anthony vaguely heard words like "son-in-law" and "save them," forming a guess in his mind.
He quickened his pace out the villa's front door. The woman spotted him and immediately lunged forward like he was her savior, dragging her son to kneel before Anthony.
"Anthony, you have to save Cassie! Cassie and her dad have both been locked up. The Sanders family is destroyed! Cassie loved you so much—you two had such a good relationship! I'm begging you, please figure something out and get them both out!"
Anthony naturally recognized the woman as Cassidy's mother, and the teenage boy as Cassidy's brother Bentley.
He didn't have the patience to even look at these two. He waved at the guards. "Throw them out."
Unexpectedly, Caroline grabbed onto his dress pants, crying with snot and tears streaming down her face. "If you don't save them, they'll die for sure! I really have no other options. Right now you're my closest person, Anthony. Please don't be so heartless!"
Actually, Caroline didn't care at all whether Cassidy lived or died. What she really wanted was for Anthony to save her husband—after all, this family couldn't lose its breadwinner. As for Cassidy, saving her would be great since the girl was generous with money. But if she couldn't be saved, Caroline didn't really care.
She'd thought that given their past connection, Anthony would at least help out somehow.
But she never expected Anthony to just kick her away in disgust, looking coldly at the guards. "What are you standing around for?"