Chapter 128 Flattery or an Apology
Not willing to accept it...
She really couldn't accept it!
Smack!
Grace slammed her phone down on the table hard.
She'd come this far—she absolutely couldn't let that old man and Emily ruin everything!
Then, she took a deep breath and dialed a private number.
"Three hundred thousand deposit is in your account. Dig into her, dig deep! I want all her info, including... her daughter!"
The voice on the other end checked and responded quickly.
"Got it, Miss Miller. Don't worry, you'll have results in three days."
After hanging up, Grace leaned back on the sofa, a vicious glint in her eyes.
Emily, since you're in the way, don't blame me!
Half an hour later.
It was already late at night.
A white Rolls-Royce pulled up at the Johnson family home.
Emily unbuckled her seatbelt. "Matthew, thanks for the trouble today. It's so late, and you still came to pick me up from the old house. Come in for some water and rest a bit."
Matthew smiled. "No need to say that with me. That'd be too polite."
But when his gaze swept over the hickey on her neck, his eyes darkened a bit. Still, he didn't ask a thing.
"Watch out for yourself. Don't let him get close again, or Grace might pull more stunts. If you're upset, call me. Don't handle it alone."
His tone was light, with his usual gentleness.
His feelings were never showy—he just quietly protected her, even his concern had limits.
Emily's nose tingled, and she nodded. "I know."
Matthew hummed. "I'll pick up Eleanor tomorrow. You're running to the hospital all the time—it's tiring. No need to rush back."
"That'd be too much trouble. It's fine, my parents and the maids at home can handle it."
She was truly grateful to him.
"No trouble. No need to be so polite with me." Matthew waved it off. "Go on in, get some rest. Don't overthink."
"Okay, bye Matthew." Emily waved, got out, and shut the door.
Only then did she fully relax, her back damp with sweat.
It was late, so she went straight to her room, locked the door behind her, and headed to the bathroom.
Wow.
No need to pull down her collar—the red mark on her neck was crystal clear!
Emily's anger flared up again. She gritted her teeth and muttered, "Psycho! Doesn't he know how much trouble this causes? He's engaged to Grace and still acts like this!"
After cursing a bit, she grabbed concealer and smeared it hard over the mark.
She pressed so forcefully her skin hurt.
One layer wasn't enough... so she added another!
After several layers, it was barely covered.
Finally, she tossed the puff on the counter and caught her breath.
"Who knows what got into that man."
Back then, he was the one who filed for divorce.
Now he was clinging like glue, messing around no matter the place!
Emily closed her eyes, then opened them—calm now.
No matter what he said or did, she wouldn't go back. No more ties with him.
Meanwhile,
Alex stood in the hospital hallway, his cigarette glowing on and off at his fingertips.
Staring at the call he'd hung up on twice, he finally laughed in frustration.
"Heh, not picking up?"
A hint of helplessness crossed Alex's eyes.
He'd called to apologize, but the next try got him blocked.
Alex pressed his tongue against his cheek. "What a heartless woman."
Just then,
Michael arrived, dark circles under his eyes. "Mr. Baker, these are the company files piled up the last couple days. Need your signature."
Alex glanced and signed.
Suddenly, his pen paused. "Handle something for me tomorrow morning."
Michael blinked. "What is it?"
...
The next morning.
Emily was woken by noise from downstairs.
"What's going on? Why so loud this early? Eleanor isn't even up yet. If you all... huh?"
Emily frowned.
When did so many people show up at the door?
A maid hurried over. "Miss, Mr. Baker sent a ton of stuff. Said it's for you. We couldn't stop them."
"Jewelry, private breakfasts, tons of flowers and custom dresses..."
They were all dazzled!
Emily's tone turned cold. "Tell them to take it back. I don't want it. Next time his people come, shut the door. Don't let them in."
The maid whispered, "But they said Mr. Baker ordered it to stay. And... it's already brought inside."
Emily lost her patience and went downstairs.
The living room was stacked with stuff.
Four or five velvet boxes, a half-person-high insulated warmer, all crammed in.
She opened one at random—a limited-edition bag, soft lambskin worth at least two million dollars.
He sure had money.
The other boxes held jewelry necklaces, rare styles.
Top celebrities endorsed them; even rich families had to borrow for events.
Was this his way of buttering her up or apologizing?
Suddenly, the scent of premium ingredients wafted out.
Australian purebred Wagyu beef and black truffle pasta.
The Michelin desserts were exquisitely made—the flavor she'd mentioned offhand years ago.
The maid approached cautiously. "Miss, really throw it out? Looks like a lot of thought went into it. Mr. Baker... he included this note too. Said to make sure it gets to you."
Emily glanced over. There was a sticky note nearby.
Alex's handwriting was sharp and forceful.
"Sorry. Don't be mad?"
Even his apology was so pushy.
Emily looked at it and felt it was all a joke.
She was still mad about the hickey on her neck!
Plus, what took him so long?
If he'd done this back then, would they have divorced?
Now that she didn't want him, he shoved it all at her.
She turned to the maid. "Pack it all up and dump it at the door. If they don't take it, trash it."
The maid hesitated but didn't argue, grabbing bags to pack.
Those jewels and limited bags others would kill for were just junk to Emily.
As the maids bustled, her expression stayed flat.
Just then, Lillian came down. "Emmie, you've seemed off lately. Is it about Alex?"
Emily looked up and forced a smile. "Mom, I'm fine."
"Still saying fine." Lillian poked her forehead helplessly. "I can tell—you haven't let go of him."
"Mom, I..." Emily wanted to explain but couldn't find words.
"Ask yourself—giving up your design career for Alex back then, was it worth it?"
"I'm worried about you, but I have to think of your future too."
Emily went quiet.
Lillian went on. "Alex might really want to make it up to you, but Emmie, some hurts are enough once. Sometimes, another path is better. I just want you to think it over. Plus, that kid... he's always been good to you. Our families know each other well."
"Mom, I get it. I'll go wake Eleanor first."
With that, Emily headed upstairs.
Lillian watched her go and sighed helplessly.