Chapter 217 Miss Naughty Calls Him Every Night

Chapter 217 Miss Naughty Calls Him Every Night
Alexander's fingers traced the bruising on my neck with a gentleness that made my breath catch. His touch was so careful, so different from the violence that had put those marks there.

"How did it happen?" His voice was low, dangerous. The kind of tone that promised consequences.

I opened my mouth to answer, but my mother stepped forward before I could speak.

"You put a beautiful girl in the care of freaks living in the fields," she said, her voice sharp with accusation. "What did you expect would happen?"

The way my mother put it, I knew she wanted to get out of there and wanted Alexander’s help in doing so.

“They did it?” Alexander turned his face to me and looked at me with a quizzical stare.

Before I could respond, the sound of footsteps on gravel made us all turn. Amelia appeared from around the side of the house, carrying a damp towel in her hands.

“Here!” She had a wet towel in her hand that she wanted me to dab on my bruise.

“Your highness!” She pretended like she had no idea he was there.

"Was it you or your son who did this to her?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the night air like a blade.

My mother's lips curved into a satisfied smile. This was exactly what she'd been hoping for—Alexander's arrival, his anger, his protection.

I felt the crumpled paper in my pocket and made a decision. This was my chance. With Alexander here, I could expose Maxwell for what he really was. I could show them all the truth.

But as I reached into my pocket, Amelia spoke first.

"No!" she said, her voice trembling with what sounded like genuine remorse. "I was disciplining my son, and Ember got in the middle. I accidentally hit her. I feel terrible about it, but it really was just an accident."

While Alexander was arguing with her and I was busy flattening the paper behind their backs, I was shocked to realize it wasn’t the same drawing. However, the context of the drawing silenced me.

I stood in my spot and then shoved the paper back in my pocket. My heart was pounding; my breathing was irregular now.

Something changed, and I no longer wanted to accuse Maxwell, at least not right now.

"She's lying," my mother argued back, pointing at Amelia. "She hit my daughter!"

Alexander's attention shifted back to me, his voice softer but no less intense. "Ember! Tell me who did this to you."

“Tell him how unsafe you are here,” Mother voiced from behind Amelia, who was anxiously rubbing her palms and waiting for my response.

I knew in the moment that if I said the truth. Alexander would take me out of here. But did I want it? No! I didn’t want it anymore. I have to stay here and find out more about the drawing from Maxwell.

"It was just an accident," I said quietly, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.

My mother gasped audibly, and Amelia visibly relaxed.

Alexander didn't look convinced. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.

"You don't have to hide the truth. Just tell—"

"I'm not lying," I said firmly, cutting him off.

“Ember!” My mother wanted me to look her way, but I kept looking to the other side.

"I'm sorry you had to come out here for this," I said, my voice getting stronger. "But next time you get a call, don't come."

Alexander's jaw tightened. "You don't get to talk to me like that. Even if I get called every two hours, I'll come. You can't take away my right to do that, Em!"

His heavy voice and the nickname he had given me made me close my eyes and not want to indulge in the conversation.

"I'm not leaving you here tonight," Alexander said, his tone brooking no argument. "I mean... I'm taking you away from here for a few hours. Just the two of us in the car? It will be helpful for your breathing since this place is..."

There was something almost nervous in the way he said it.

"I won't take no for an answer," he added quickly.

I was left with no choice but to nod and walk after him as he led me into the field to the road and sat me down in his car.

Once we were in the car, Alexander started driving slowly down the dark, empty road. The headlights cut through the darkness, creating a small bubble of light around us.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Better," I said, and it wasn't entirely a lie.

"Earlier, when you said—that you used to have a crush on me, I've been thinking about it." his topic change made me feel awkward. I don’t know how I used to roam around the mansion and fuck whoever I wanted, but now even the thought of it made me uncomfortable, more so shy!

"Just forget I said that. It's in the past."

"That's the problem. I don't know why I can't forget it." he uttered, slowing down the car and eventually halting.

It was awkward to be around him and talk about my feelings with him. I was much more comfortable with the others because he had always kept his distance from me

"Do you—" he started, then stopped, seeming to struggle with the words.

"Do I still have a crush on you?" I finished for him.

"Or have any feelings?" The word seemed to stick in his throat.

I was about to answer when his phone lit up on the dashboard. The screen showed an incoming call, and I could clearly see the contact name: "Miss Naughty..."

The sight of it and the nickname made me furious. He had the audacity to ask me that question while his sidepiece was blowing up his phone.

I don’t know why he wanted to know that because I am certain he has a girl he goes to every night now.

"No!" I said, my voice sharp with hurt and anger. "I don't have any feelings for you. Now please take me home."