Chapter 25 Do You Know Who I Am to Timothy?
The plane touched down in Silverlight City at exactly eight in the evening.
Elizabeth had taken her pain medication before boarding, the kind that made her drowsy. She was asleep within minutes of takeoff.
Timothy noticed the way her injured arm rested awkwardly. Worried she might shift in her sleep and hurt herself, he loosely wrapped his fingers around hers. Any movement, and he'd know.
She was still asleep when the plane landed.
Timothy lifted her carefully into his arms as they disembarked. Outside, two lines of bodyguards waited. Joe approached with a respectful nod, lowering his voice. "Mr. Timothy Robinson, Mr. Manuel Robinson has arranged people in Silverlight City."
Timothy's expression stayed calm. "Good."
In the car, Joe raised the privacy partition without glancing back.
Timothy settled Elizabeth on his lap, holding her close. She had stirred slightly when he carried her into the car, but her mind was foggy and she kept her eyes closed.
"Keep sleeping. I'll wake you when we get there," he murmured, his voice low and warm.
She breathed in the crisp cedar scent clinging to him and drifted back to sleep.
The car rolled through a gated entrance, down a maple-lined drive, and stopped before a large villa.
When Elizabeth woke, she was in a king-sized bed with a small lamp glowing at the headboard. She sat up, rubbing her face, scanning the unfamiliar room before glancing at the city lights beyond the window. "Where is this?" she muttered.
Wasn't she supposed to be going back to Emerald Park?
Timothy had just finished a shower, his hair still damp. Closing a file, he crossed the room to her.
"This is where we'll be staying for now. You'll recover here," he said, his gaze steady.
"Gold cage?" she blurted without thinking.
His lips curved. "I like the term."
Elizabeth sighed.
Her phone rang. Timothy handed it to her.
She frowned at the caller ID before answering. "Mom."
On the other end, Calista's voice was brisk. "Next week is your sister Natalia's birthday. Bring your husband."
Elizabeth's tone chilled. "I'm not going."
Calista's voice sharpened. "Elizabeth, she's your sister. What will the Howard family think if you don't show?"
Elizabeth's reply was flat. "Half-sister. I've never gone to her birthdays before. The Howard family is used to it… This time they invited me, and I know they have their reasons." Her tone did not change. "The Howards only care about profit; they must be hoping to see Armando."
She almost smiled, but it never reached her eyes.
"They care about you," Calista insisted, her voice cracking into tears. "If I hadn't brought you into the Howard family, paid for your education, given you a good life—"
Elizabeth drew a slow breath. "I've repaid every cent."
Calista's sobs continued. "Natalia is family. She's turning eighteen. Please come home."
Elizabeth's patience thinned. "I'm injured. I need to rest."
"The news says it's not serious."
For a moment, Elizabeth couldn't speak. "So you saw the news, knew I was hurt, and didn't think to ask how I was first?"
"I care about you," Calista said, but it sounded hollow.
Elizabeth's smile was faint and cold. "Fine. I'll come. Alone."
When she ended the call, Timothy noted the shadow over her face. "If you don't want to go, don't."
He knew her family history well.
"This will be the last time," she murmured.
Timothy brushed his fingers through her hair, deliberately changing the subject. "Let me wash your hair tonight."
Her eyes narrowed. "Find me a woman to do it."
"You don't trust me?" he teased, rolling up his sleeves. "I'm excellent at washing long hair."
Her skepticism was clear. "Do you often wash women's hair?"
He tapped her forehead lightly. "Stop imagining things. I used to wash Mimi's hair."
"You have a sister? Must be a good brother."
His smile deepened. "No need to envy Mimi. You have me."
"I meant a real brother."
"Mimi's not related to me. She's a dog. I'm human."
Elizabeth stared, speechless.
Timothy chuckled at her turned back. "Darling, I'll wash your hair and maybe help you bathe."
She clenched her fists. "No, thank you."
He laughed. "Serving you is never a bother."
In the end, she clung to her clothes and refused. He found a middle-aged woman to help her instead.
The next day, Timothy went to work. Elizabeth lounged in the living room, watching mindless TV.
The door opened to reveal Mabel in a polka-dot dress, carrying a bouquet of roses. Both women froze in surprise.
Elizabeth recognized her instantly—she'd seen Timothy dining with Mabel at a restaurant not long ago.
"So you're the guest Mr. Robinson invited? What happened to your hand?" Mabel asked, her tone curious but gentle.
"Fracture," Elizabeth replied.
"That must hurt." Mabel offered her hand with a genuine smile. "I'm Mabel."
Elizabeth shook it. "Elizabeth."
"This is the first time I've seen Mr. Robinson invite a woman to his home," Mabel said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Do you know who I am to him?" she added.
"No."
"You're not even jealous seeing me here?" Mabel tilted her head.
Elizabeth smiled faintly. "If you're not jealous, why should I be?"
Mabel laughed, delighted. "You're right. I'm generous by nature. Mr. Robinson is exceptional—of course women like him."
Elizabeth's lips curved. "Yes, he is exceptional."
Mabel noted the absence of any bitterness in Elizabeth's expression and smiled all the more.