Chapter 84 Dirty After Me?
The days that followed draped Ravenwood Manor in a suffocating silence.
Alexander locked himself in his study, refusing all visitors. Only Liam was permitted entry, delivering meals at precise intervals and reporting essential business matters. Beyond that, the master wanted no interruptions.
The change in atmosphere was palpable. The servants moved like ghosts through the halls, their footsteps barely whispers against marble floors. Conversations shrank to murmurs. Even breathing seemed deliberate and restrained, as though the slightest excess sound might trigger whatever volatile thing was festering behind that study door.
The eerie calm finally shattered on the fourth evening.
Liam stood outside the study, drawing several steadying breaths before raising his knuckles to the wood.
"Come in."
He pushed through, approaching Alexander's silhouette against the darkening window.
"Sir..." Liam hesitated.
"Speak."
Liam bit down hard, forcing the words out. "Kenna came to me just now. She says Mrs. Hamilton has been refusing all food for days. She'll only take water."
Alexander's shoulders locked, the tension visible even from behind.
He turned slowly, frost gathering between his brows. "How many days? And you're only telling me now?"
Sweat broke across Liam's temples. "Sir, the staff mentioned it to the butler earlier, but you'd given explicit orders--no unnecessary reports about Mrs. Hamilton's condition were to disturb you.
"And the previous times they brought up her situation, you seemed unwilling to hear it. Kenna was desperate. She came to me in tears. That's when I realized how serious things had become."
A vein pulsed at Alexander's temple.
A hunger strike? Was she trying to die this way?
Or was this silent rebellion her answer to what he'd done in that bathroom?
The fury he'd spent days containing exploded through his carefully maintained composure.
He spun on his heel, striding from the study, down the corridor, and threw open Caroline's door.
Kenna sat beside the bed, cradling a bowl of soup, her voice soft with pleading. "Mrs. Hamilton, please, just a little. One sip, that's all. You can't go on like this--your body will give out..."
Caroline lay buried under heavy blankets, only her pale, gaunt face visible. Her eyes stayed closed. Kenna's entreaties met only silence.
Alexander's gaze swept over her, settling on that wasted face.
Just days, and she'd withered further.
Something sharp twisted in his chest--a brief, hollow ache--before rage flooded in to fill the void.
She was destroying herself. Was this her declaration of war?
"Out!" he barked at Kenna.
She flinched, nearly dropping the bowl, and scrambled to her feet.
"Sir..."
"I said get out!"
Liam appeared in the doorway, gently pulling the bewildered maid away, closing the door behind them.
Alexander moved to the bedside, towering over the figure beneath the covers.
He stared for several seconds before reaching for the soup bowl on the nightstand.
"Sit up." The command came cold and flat.
Caroline didn't respond. Her eyes stayed closed.
"I said sit up!"
His patience snapped. He yanked the blankets away.
The sudden chill made Caroline tremble faintly.
Her eyes opened slowly--hollow, bottomless.
That emptiness cut deeper than any accusation could have. It stoked his fury higher.
He'd rather she scream, fight, weep--anything but this corpse-like vacancy.
He leaned down, gripping her jaw, forcing her head up while his other hand brought the bowl to her lips.
"Drink."
Caroline pressed her lips together, turning her face away. A silent refusal.
That tiny act of defiance ignited something savage in him.
He pried her jaw open, forcing the bowl's rim between her teeth, and the scalding broth poured in.
Caroline's whole body jerked at the burn. She struggled instinctively.
The bowl tipped. Hot soup splashed across Alexander's hand, raising instant welts, but he didn't even flinch. He kept forcing her to swallow.
Liquid streamed down her chin and throat, scalding her skin and choking her windpipe.
She coughed violently, curling into herself.
Finally, when the bowl was empty, Alexander released her.
Caroline immediately collapsed against the bed's edge, retching. Everything she'd just swallowed came back up, mixed with bile.
Watching her crumpled, wretched form, Alexander's rage blazed anew.
He hauled her upright, forcing her to face him.
"What is this?! A hunger strike? Some kind of protest? You think I've made you dirty, is that it?!"
He shook her, his voice razor-sharp.
"So who's clean, then? Daniel? I touch you once and you pull this dying act? You saving yourself for him? Who the hell do you think you are?!"
His interrogation seemed to pierce through her fog. She lifted tear-soaked lashes, meeting his furious gaze.
In that instant of eye contact, Alexander saw it clearly--a dark flame burning in those hollow depths.
Hatred. Raw, undisguised, directed straight at him.
Alexander froze for a heartbeat. Then something more violent surged through him.
She hated him? She dared to hate him?
What right did she have? What she owed Edith, what she owed him--she could never repay it, not in this lifetime!
"Perfect."
Alexander's laugh was bitter, dangerous. He dragged her up and shoved her down into the mattress.
Fear flashed through Caroline's eyes. Her hands came up reflexively, pressing against his chest.
The next second, she struck. Her nails raked across his throat, leaving a bloody trail.
Alexander's movements halted. He touched his neck, felt the sting.
She had actually hurt him.
Whatever thread of restraint remained snapped clean through. He seized her throat, pinning her down, his other hand moving to his belt buckle.
Caroline's breathing turned ragged, vision darkening. Her hands clawed weakly at his arm. Her legs kicked uselessly.
Even on the edge of unconsciousness, she kept fighting. That resistance only darkened his expression further.
He leaned in close, as if sheer force could break her will.
Just as he moved closer, Caroline's body went rigid. Fear and hatred crystallized into something cold and sharp in her eyes.
Alexander suddenly sensed something wrong. Warmth spread beneath her.
He looked down.
A stark crimson stain bloomed across the white sheets.