Chapter 241 Let Me Go

Chapter 241 Let Me Go

Grace froze.

Emily turned her head to look at her, her gaze so calm it was unsettling. "Grace, you say I'm living off someone else, but what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You live in a house Alex gave you, spend money Alex gave you, and drive a car registered under Alex's name. Without Alex, what are you?" Emily's tone was unhurried, as if stating a fact. "You say I'm a canary, but you're not even as good as me. Even if you wanted to get into a cage, no one would want you."

Grace's expression changed, the smile at the corner of her mouth faltering. "You..."

Emily cut her off. "You say I should please my benefactor, but you've been pleasing for so many years and you're still stuck in the same place, doing even worse than before."

She stood up, half a head taller than Grace, looking down at her. "Grace, you're a real failure as a person."

"If you had just behaved yourself when you were with Alex, you wouldn't have been cast aside. But you had too many schemes and brought yourself to this point."

Grace's breathing quickened, her chest heaving violently, her carefully maintained face flushing red.

Every word Emily said hit her exactly where it hurt most.

The Alex situation was her biggest pain in life. She had schemed so hard, only to end up with nothing.

Yet Alex was willing to risk his life for Emily.

Why?

Why did Emily get everything without doing anything, while she got nothing despite all her scheming?

Grace suddenly laughed, her smile twisted and vicious. She lunged forward and swung her hand at Emily's face.

Emily had anticipated this move. She dodged to the side and grabbed Grace's wrist, twisting it hard.

Grace screamed in pain. Her other hand frantically grabbed a glass from the table and, without thinking, smashed it toward Emily's head.

Emily saw the glass coming at her.

She could have dodged it.

But she didn't.

The glass hit her temple hard with a dull thud.

Glass shards scattered across the floor. Blood ran down from her temple, flowing over her brow bone and dripping onto the white tablecloth, spreading into a shocking red flower.

Eleanor screamed in fright, jumped down from her chair and hugged Emily's leg, crying uncontrollably. "Mommy's bleeding! Mommy—"

The servants rushed in at the commotion. Seeing Emily's blood-covered face, they were startled and quickly ran out to make a phone call.

Grace stood frozen, looking at the broken glass bottom in her hand, then at the blood streaming down Emily's face. Her hands began to shake. "You... why didn't you dodge?"

Emily wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand. Blood covered half her face, but her eyes remained calm as water as she looked at Grace. "I should thank you."

Grace's eyes widened, not understanding what she meant.

Matthew had gone to the office but felt uneasy, thinking he should come back to check. When he saw Emily covered in blood, his pupils contracted sharply.

He almost instantly rushed to Emily's side, grabbing her shoulders, his voice trembling. "Emmie! What happened?"

Emily didn't speak. She just turned her head and glanced at Grace.

Matthew followed her gaze and saw the bloody glass shard in Grace's hand.

"It wasn't me... it was her..." Grace stepped back, the glass shard falling from her hand and shattering. "She insulted me first, I just acted on impulse..."

"Shut up!"

Matthew's roar nearly shook the chandelier down. The veins on his temple bulged, his eyes filled with furious red.

"Grace, who gave you permission to enter this door?"

"I... I just came to see Miss Johnson, to show some concern..."

"Didn't I tell you that without my permission, no one is allowed to step into this house?" Matthew walked toward her step by step. With each step he took, Grace retreated until her back hit the wall with nowhere left to go.

"I was wrong." Grace's tears immediately poured out. "I just acted on impulse, I didn't mean it. Forgive me this once, I'll never come again..."

"Get out." Matthew pointed at the door, his voice cold as ice.

Grace's face turned pale. She turned and ran.

Eleanor was still crying, looking at the wound on Emily's head with teary eyes. Her little hand wanted to touch it but didn't dare, stamping her feet anxiously. "Mommy, does it hurt? Eleanor is so scared..."

Emily crouched down and held her daughter in her arms, using her clean sleeve to wipe the tears from her face. "Eleanor, don't be afraid. Mommy doesn't hurt. It's just a little scratch, it'll be fine soon."

"Really?"

"Really. When has Mommy ever lied to you?"

Eleanor nodded while sobbing, burying her face in Emily's neck, her small body still trembling.

Matthew called the family doctor, then turned and crouched in front of Emily, reaching out to check her wound.

Emily instinctively pulled back.

His hand froze in mid-air. A flash of hurt crossed his eyes, but he didn't withdraw his hand. Instead, he gently moved the blood-matted hair from her temple.

The wound wasn't too deep, but the location was dangerous—less than two centimeters above her temple.

If it had been a bit more to the side, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

Matthew took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotions inside. "Does it hurt?"

"It's okay." Emily's tone was flat.

"You should have dodged."

"I'm just a canary. How dare I offend your friend?"

Matthew froze for a moment, then understood what she meant. She was deliberately making him feel sick.

After the family doctor arrived and treated Emily's wound, stitching four stitches at her temple, he said it might leave a small scar.

Emily said it didn't matter—she was past the age of relying on her looks anyway.

Matthew listened from the side, his brows furrowed tight.

After the doctor left and Eleanor had fallen asleep under the servants' care, he finally spoke. "Emmie, you don't have to do this."

"Don't have to do what?"

"If you're upset, you can tell me. You can take it out on me."

"I don't want any of that. I just want to leave here."

Matthew fell silent.

Emily smiled slightly, the smile not reaching her eyes. She stood up and walked toward Eleanor's room. When she reached the door, she paused.

"Matthew, you say you love me, but the love you give me is locking me in a beautiful cage. That's not love."

The door closed.

Matthew stood alone in the living room, staring at that closed door for a long time without moving.

To get out, Emily learned to be smart.

Matthew responded to softness, not hardness. Going head-to-head with him wouldn't work. She needed to change her approach.