Chapter 179 He No Longer Loves Edith
"The news! I just saw the news! The Neville Group--it's been renamed, transferred! The chairman... the chairman is Caroline now! That bitch! Damon gave her all his shares, and he's acting as her proxy for executive authority! Mom! What do we do? What are we going to do?!"
"What?!"
Even Isabella, usually so composed, went rigid. The color drained from her face.
She whipped around and grabbed Celeste's wet, cold arm, her voice rising sharply.
"It's true! Mom! It's already all over the news!"
Celeste was on the verge of tears.
She shoved her phone into Isabella's face, still clutched tight in her trembling hand.
"Look! Just look!"
Isabella snatched the phone and scanned the article.
The further she read, the darker her expression became.
"Alexander..."
Isabella's body went taut. She understood immediately who was behind this.
"It has to be him. Only he has the resources and the reach to plug the holes in that company so fast, stabilize everything, and then... hand it all over to that little bitch."
She knew Alexander's power. She knew how he operated.
And she knew exactly what would humiliate them most.
First he'd stormed into the Neville estate and made a scene. Now he'd gone and given the entire Neville Group to Caroline.
The thing she'd feared most had come to pass.
Alexander didn't love Edith anymore. He loved Caroline now.
"Mom! What do we do?!"
Celeste's panic spiraled now that Isabella had confirmed it.
"Does Alexander... does he know what we did? Will he track us down here? Will he come for us? Mom, I'm scared..."
"Shut up!"
Isabella snapped, cutting her daughter off mid-sob.
She yanked her arm free from Celeste's grip and forced herself to think.
A few seconds later, she stopped pacing, turned, and fixed her daughter with a cold stare.
"So what if he knows? We're using completely new identities now. We're living in Ashbourne, under the protection of local law. He can do whatever he wants in Grandhaven, but his reach doesn't extend here."
"As for the Neville Group... hmph. Damon's an incompetent fool. At worst, people will say he mismanaged the company and I left him because our marriage fell apart. As long as the truth about Edith never comes out, we'll always have an exit."
She stepped closer, looming over Celeste, her gaze sharp as a blade.
"Celeste, listen to me carefully. From this moment on, you forget the name Neville. You forget Grandhaven. You forget Caroline. And you forget... Edith. Our identities have changed. I'm Saskia Fuller now, and you're my daughter, Vivian. We're heiresses from Valloria, here to enjoy our inheritance. You keep your mouth shut. No matter who you're talking to, no matter when, you don't say a single word about the past. Especially not about Edith. Do you understand me?"
Celeste shrank under her mother's gaze, her chest tight.
When Isabella mentioned Edith, Celeste quickly looked away, unable to meet those icy eyes.
"I understand, Mom. I won't say anything."
But her fingernails dug harder into her damp palms.
Edith...
If Lucian found out that so many things were actually her fault...
No. Impossible.
But even as she tried to reassure herself, Celeste's racing heart betrayed her fear.
Back in her room, she couldn't help herself. She picked up her phone and sent a message.
Celeste: [Find out what Alexander's been up to lately. Get that material we prepared in front of him--whatever it takes. Make him furious. Make him hate Caroline so much he gets rid of her himself.]
She paused, then added quickly:
Celeste: [After you're done, pull everyone out. Immediately. Clean sweep. Don't leave a single trace.]
She deleted the message as soon as it sent, then lay back on the bed clutching her phone, her anxiety gnawing at her.
Days at Coral Haven slipped by to the gentle rhythm of the waves.
Caroline's belly swelled steadily, rounding like a ripening fruit.
Mercifully, the violent morning sickness that had plagued her for months finally began to ease. Her appetite returned--not much, but enough that eating was no longer an ordeal. A faint, healthy flush crept back into her pale cheeks.
Alexander noticed every change. The tension he'd carried for months began to loosen, just a little.
He was overjoyed to see her improving. And he wanted to make her happy.
So the man who'd only ever held a gun began, clumsily, to wield a spatula instead.
Caroline woke from her afternoon nap feeling refreshed. On a whim, she picked up a paintbrush and spent some time at her easel, sketching the swaying palms outside the window and the seabirds skimming the water. She wanted to show Alexander.
As she came downstairs, she heard a flurry of activity from the kitchen.
"Sir! The heat's too high! Turn it down! The oil needs to be hot before you add anything..."
"Over here! Sir, the green onions aren't chopped yet!"
Caroline stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame, her head tilted slightly as she peered inside.
Alexander stood at the stove, his tall frame draped in one of Kenna's floral aprons over his casual clothes.
He gripped a spatula in one hand, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stared down at the sizzling oil like it was a tactical problem he couldn't quite solve.
Kenna hovered nearby, wanting to help but not daring to interfere, sweat beading on her forehead as she whispered frantic instructions.
In the chaos, Alexander had somehow gotten flour on the tip of his nose.
He looked utterly out of his depth.
And Caroline's heart melted.
This man--who'd once commanded entire rooms in Grandhaven with a single glance, whose presence alone could silence a crowd--was now fumbling his way through making her a meal.
The corners of her mouth curved upward.
She loved him.
She loved this version of him, stripped of all his cold armor, all his defenses, standing in a kitchen just trying to cook for her.
She loved the way he looked right now, focused only on spices and ingredients, worried about burning the vegetables.
She loved... the way he loved her.
Suddenly, the pan let out a sharp crackling sound. Droplets of hot oil spattered onto the back of Alexander's hand.
"Shit--"
He hissed, jerking back. The spatula nearly slipped from his grip.
"Sir!" Kenna cried out.
"Alex!"