Chapter 25 Love Poems
"All right."
Terrence snapped the lid of the ointment shut, his eyes flicking briefly to the swelling at her ankle. It had gone down, just a little, but enough to notice.
"Thank you… it already feels much better."
Her cheeks warmed until she could feel the heat in her ears. She glanced at him, awkward and shy, the words tumbling out almost against her will.
She lay back on the bed, palms pressing over her flushed face, and for a moment even the ache in her ankle slipped from her mind. All she could think about was the way Terrence's hands had moved earlier—slow, deliberate, unexpectedly gentle as he worked the cool salve into her skin. The memory lingered like a touch that refused to fade, and with that thought still in her head, sleep claimed her.
The next morning, Bianca limped her way down the stairs. She was halfway to the bottom when a voice drifted up from the hall—Blair's.
"Ms. Ember, you're here to see your sister, aren't you?"
"You might have to wait a while. Ms. Rodriguez usually wakes up late. Her schedule… well, it's nothing like ours."
If Bianca hadn't come downstairs, she might never have known how Mira spoke about her behind her back. Her gaze sharpened, a cold edge sliding into her expression. She gripped the banister and descended the last few steps with measured steadiness.
"Mira," she said, voice cool and precise, "I am the mistress of this house. I will sleep as long as I please. You are here to work for your wages, and if you cannot be bothered to wake early and do your job, tell me—do you really take that money with a clear conscience?"
Mira's face tightened. She hadn't expected Bianca to overhear her gossiping with Blair.
Blair's eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed Bianca's awkward stance. Suspicion flickered—had Bianca and Terrence already crossed that line?
No… she doubted Bianca had the nerve.
"Bianca, we're sisters," Blair said, stepping closer with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You moving out so suddenly… I'm still not used to it. Back at home, I always had someone to talk to. Now, when I get bored, I can only come here. You don't mind, do you?"
Her gaze swept over Bianca again, searching for something. Then she saw it—Bianca's limp—and her tension eased. So that was it. Nothing scandalous. Blair's mind, however, was already turning over new ideas.
Before she could speak again, footsteps sounded from upstairs. Every head turned toward the staircase. Terrence descended, each step carrying a quiet authority that seemed to press against the air.
Bianca rose immediately, her smile bright and sweet. "Morning, Terrence."
His eyes dropped to her ankle, and his voice was firm but not unkind. "You only twisted it yesterday. Walk less—it will heal faster."
The simple concern warmed her more than she expected.
Blair's lips curved in a faint smirk. "Bianca, when I came over, Father asked me to bring you a few things. He was worried you might not be comfortable staying here with Mr. Anderson."
She opened the box she had brought. Inside were small, familiar items from the Rodriguez household—nothing remarkable. But then, a few sheets of paper slipped free and fluttered to the floor. Blair bent to pick them up, her expression shifting as she read.
"Bianca… you still have the love poems you wrote for Mr. Samuel Anderson? I thought you were serious about being with Mr. Terrence Anderson, that you'd cut ties with Samuel completely."
Terrence's gaze turned sharp, dangerous. His eyes locked on Blair before sliding to Bianca, unreadable.
Bianca stepped forward, taking the pages from Blair's hand. She glanced at the childish lines and let out a short, humorless laugh.
"That was years ago. Who hasn't had a crush when they were young?"
"What you do at that age doesn't count for much when you grow up. But I have to wonder—these poems were tucked away somewhere even I couldn't find. How did they end up in your box?"
Blair froze, caught off guard by the question. She glanced at Terrence, searching for a way out, but found none.
Mira, eager to stir trouble, chimed in. "Ms. Rodriguez, Ms. Ember is your sister. You were so close back home… it's not surprising she knows your secrets. Or maybe Ms. Ember accidentally exposed them to Mr. Anderson, and now you're worried he'll think you haven't severed ties with another man?"
"Is this your place to speak?" Terrence's voice cut through the room, low and cold. Mira fell silent instantly.
He turned to Blair. "Ms. Ember, are you suggesting my fiancée owes you an explanation for this nonsense?"
Bianca had no intention of explaining. In truth, she regretted writing those poems at all—an embarrassing stain on her past. But she hadn't expected Terrence to defend her.
She smiled faintly.
"Give them to me," Terrence said, holding out his hand.
She passed him the pages. Without even glancing at them, he flicked open a silver lighter. Flame leapt up, devouring the paper until it crumbled into ash.
"Worthless things aren't worth keeping." His eyes stayed on Bianca. "Since she is with me, the past is nothing but ash. Anyone who brings up baseless accusations again…" He paused, his gaze sweeping over Blair and Mira, "…is insulting me directly. Consider the consequences before you try."
Blair's smile faltered. "Mr. Anderson, you misunderstand. I was only—"
"No need to explain." Terrence's tone was flat. "If the Rodriguez family cannot discipline their daughters, I have no problem doing it myself."
Blair's fingers curled into her palms.
Warmth spread through Bianca's chest. She met Blair's eyes, her own voice cool. "I've made myself clear. The past is over, and it was nothing more than a mistake of youth. If you ever try to use it to drive a wedge between me and Terrence again, I won't be lenient—no matter what our relationship is."
Blair stiffened. "Bianca, what are you implying? That I deliberately mentioned your poems to Mr. Anderson? I didn't force you to write them. Back then, you were eager enough. Samuel asked, and you obeyed. I don't believe you've truly ended things with him."
"Enough." Bianca's voice cracked like a whip. Both Blair and Mira flinched at the force behind it.
"Don't speak Samuel's name in front of me again. Or is it that you have feelings for him yourself? If you want him, I'll happily introduce you."
"You…" Blair's hands clenched tighter. Words failed her.
"If you have nothing else, leave. And take your trash with you."
Bianca dropped onto the couch beside Terrence. Blair, left with no excuse to stay, swallowed her frustration and walked out.
Once the door closed, Bianca turned to the servants standing nearby. "Pass my word: no one enters without permission. Who let them in today?"
The servants exchanged uneasy looks. No one spoke.
"Whoever was on duty will lose half a month's pay. Let this be a lesson." Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried the kind of authority that left no room for argument. "The rules of the Anderson family are not for show."
Mira muttered under her breath, "Mr. Anderson, isn't Ms. Rodriguez being too harsh? Ms. Ember is a guest—"
"Seems I've been too lenient," Terrence said, rising slowly. His gaze swept over Mira and the servants. "What Bianca says, I say. If anyone has a problem, they can pack their things and leave now."
Silence fell over the room.
Bianca stepped closer to him, her voice soft. "Thank you."
He looked down at her. "You're mine. Protecting you is only right."