Chapter 287: Who Is It?
Alison whipped her head around and saw Pierre lounging against a helicopter, his gaze locked on her window.
He held a microphone and winked at her.
She frowned and turned away, pretending he wasn’t there.
Walking to the window, she yanked the curtains shut.
Disgust twisted in her chest — his shamelessness had no limits.
For the first time, she wondered if using him to reach the Bruce family was worth this humiliation.
Yet, the voice blaring from the megaphone loudspeaker outside was too loud.
“Alison, I love you. Please marry me.” The voice was clear and earnest.
The neighbours would have heard every word — every humiliating word.
Good heavens, how can I get rid of this jerk?
She put on her phone’s earbuds, listening to music.
But before five minutes passed, a furious pounding shook the door.
The nanny opened it to find a crowd of people standing outside and complaining.
“Stop it now! It’s too loud! If this keeps up, we’re calling the police.”
“Yeah, it’s way too loud. We can’t even rest.”
Their voices overlapped — angry, relentless — until Alison tore out her earbuds, scowling.
Outside the window, Pierre was still shouting as the helicopter hovered in place.
She yanked the curtains open, finding Pierre grinning.
Then, the helicopter began circling closer to her window. He stepped out of the cabin, intending to enter through the balcony.
Panic surged. She needed a shield — Aidan.
She hurriedly called him. “Aidan, come quickly! Pierre is flying his helicopter to my place!”
“What? That lunatic! Alison, stay calm. I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up mid-breath and racing out the door.
By then, Pierre had approached the balcony door, smiling. “Alison, open the door.”
“No way!” Alison stood by the window, defending herself.
“Tell me — who helped you counteract last night’s sedative?” His voice dropped, no longer amplified, but every word still cut through the glass.
She mulled over his words, panic rising within her.
Could I have slept with someone last night?
But Aidan said he was the one who drove me home…
Gritting her teeth, Alison opened the door. “Pierre, what do you mean by that?”
He grinned. “Nothing. I just want you to be mine. Otherwise, I’ll expose the footage of you with that man last night.”
He strolled in like he owned the place, lifted her blanket to his face, and inhaled. “So sweet.”
Her mind spun. Could it have been Aidan? No… impossible.
Trembling, she declared, “No, I didn’t do anything. Don’t deceive me with fake video. We will never be together.”
Her voice was icy — a blade — leaving Pierre nowhere to push.
Pierre grinned wickedly. “Fine, then wait and see. Give me an email address. I’ll call someone to send you. Check it in five minutes, and everything will become clear. If you refuse my offer, however, it’ll be exposed.”
His gaze slid lower, lingering shamelessly until nausea clawed up her throat.
The sight ripped open old wounds — the same terror, the same helpless rage.
She lunged forward, gripping his collar as she demanded, “Pierre, did you have someone take those photos back then?”
Every nerve in her body screamed that he was guilty.
“Photos? What photos?” Pierre looked utterly bewildered.
“Don’t try to fool me! Was it you or not?” Alison gritted her teeth.
“No is no. I do have the video, but the photos you’re talking about don’t involve me. If possible, I’d actually like to admire them.”
A slow, lewd smile curved his lips — mocking, deliberate.