Chapter 11

“Don’t worry about it,” Odalys said, her tone light and carefree. “It’s just a variety show. Besides, it’s on a deserted island—might as well treat it like a vacation.” She grabbed her medicine box and, without a second thought, gracefully headed upstairs.

Percival stood still, watching her retreating figure. He didn't look away for a long while before finally turning his gaze from her and his thoughts.

Just then, Callum approached, holding an item. He stepped forward respectfully and said, “Mr. Stewart, I’ve handled everything with the DAR projects Henry’s been working on. He’ll be drowning in work for the next few days, so no need to worry about him.”

“Mm,” Percival muttered a low acknowledgment, barely paying attention as he checked his watch. It was around the time the poison usually started to act up. But, to his surprise, he frowned, held his breath for a moment, then walked toward the garden.

Callum quickly fell into step behind him.

“Any new findings?” Percival asked, his voice soft but laced with impatience.

Callum immediately responded, “Yes. I looked into it. Odalys was brought back to Crownridge by the Bennett family seven years ago.”

“Before that, she’d never been here. After going missing, she was taken in by them. She never left the mountain until she came back with the Bennett family.”

From the investigation, it seemed that Odalys had no connection to the poison affecting him and her. But somehow, she had instantly recognized it and even managed to help him control its effects. Is it just a stroke of medical genius, or is there more to the story? Percival wondered.

Callum hesitated before asking, “Do you want me to keep digging?”

Considering Odalys was now married into the Stewart family, even if they hadn’t officially tied the knot yet, things were already complicated. If he found out he was investigating her past, things could go south quickly.

“No need,” Percival said, his voice colder than ice. “If it’s fate, then so be it. But whoever’s behind this, whoever dared to mess with my family—trust me, I’ll find them and make them regret it. I’ll take care of it before I die.”

“Understood,” Callum replied quietly, his tone matching Percival’s.

Percival was a genius—he’d graduated with two PhDs by 15, took over the Stewart family at 16, and had led it to become a global powerhouse. By 20, he was the world’s richest man. Now, at 28, he was at the top of the game, controlling everything. But despite all his brains and power, someone managed to poison him. Someone was clearly out to get him.

Callum, still unsure, finally spoke up after a long pause. “Mr. Stewart, what if the Bennett family catches wind of what we’re doing? What if they think we’re turning against them? Could it cause problems with Mr. Evander Stewart?”

Percival stopped walking and slowly turned to face Callum, his eyes sharp and unreadable. “Sir, my grandfather suggested this marriage. The Bennett family took full advantage, demanding a billion-dollar project in exchange. Now, they change their minds and send me an unimportant daughter instead.”

“Do they really think the Stewart family is weak? Or do they think Odalys will marry me, and never leave alive?” His voice was low, yet filled with disdain. “Whatever game the Bennett family is playing, Odalys is now part of the Stewart family. Whether I live or die, whether she can fix any condition or not, I’ll be damned if I let anyone—especially the Bennetts—bully anyone in my family. I won’t let that happen.” Percival’s words were forceful, each one cutting through the air like a blade.

The Stewarts were known for protecting their own—and Percival was no different.

“It looks like the Bennett family miscalculated,” Callum said with a wry grin, his voice almost amused. As for the marriage arrangement, the Bennetts had assumed that by sending Odalys to the Stewarts, the family would swallow their pride and not mention it again. After all, when the marriage was first set up, there had been no stipulation that the bride had to be someone from the Bennett family. Odalys was their flesh and blood, so they felt they had leverage. With that, they’d become bolder, pushing their luck and assuming they could get away with whatever they wanted. They thought that no matter how much trouble Odalys Stone caused, the Stewarts would never stand up for her. They were wrong.

Upstairs in the bedroom, Odalys was fully focused on mixing the herbs. As night crept in, the room was slowly swallowed by darkness.

“Ugh,” she let out a soft groan, rubbing her stiff neck. She tried to get up from the carpet, but after sitting in the same position for so long, her legs were completely numb. She wobbled, then fell back down. With a sigh, she just gave in and lay flat, letting the calming herbal scent ease her restless thoughts. Glancing at her phone, she saw three missed calls from Henry.

Odalys didn’t bother calling back. Instead, she opened her contacts, only to be struck by the realization—she didn’t have a single friend in this bustling city of Crownridge.

“Ha. Odalys Stone, you’re such an idiot,” she thought to herself with a bitter laugh, recalling how she’d bent over backward to please everyone in the Bennett family just for a bit of family affection—while neglecting herself completely. Now she was stuck in this mess. Seven months had gone by in a blink, and she hadn’t made a single friend. Isn’t that a complete failure? she wondered.

Her phone vibrated, breaking her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and immediately hit decline. Finnian’s message popped up right after: “[Why aren’t you answering my calls? Call me back, now.]”

A wave of irritation washed over Odalys. When he saw she hadn’t responded, he sent another message: “[Pick up. We need to talk.]”

She rubbed her temples, then glanced at the incoming call again. Without hesitation, she blocked the number. The messages kept coming, but she didn’t even look at them.

A soft but insistent knock at the door.

Odalys turned her head and, with a sigh, got up from the carpet. She grabbed the medicine pouch and walked over to the door. When she opened it, Dorian was standing there, looking as respectful as ever.

“Mrs. Stewart, dinner is ready,” he said, his tone polite and subdued.

Odalys inhaled the smell of the food and looked past him to see a table full of delicious dishes set up in the side hall.

“Mr. Stewart told me not to disturb you, but since it’s already seven, I figured you might be hungry, so I went ahead and brought the food up. Would you like to eat now?” Dorian’s voice was quiet but respectful, almost deferential.

Odalys was a bit taken aback. In the Stewart mansion, whether it was the butler or the staff, everyone treated her with politeness, never once looking down on her despite the whole “marriage of convenience” situation.

“Alright, I’m starving anyway,” she said, her voice soft. She handed the medicine pouch to Dorian.

“This is the medicine I’ve prepared. Make sure Percival soaks it for half an hour before bed every night. If he forgets, the toxins in his body will rebound. The suppressed poison will come back even stronger, and it could kill him,” she said, her tone suddenly serious.

Dorian’s face changed instantly. He grabbed the medicine pouch like it was precious, looking worried.

“Mrs. Stewart, what should we do if the poison flares up unexpectedly?” he asked, his voice anxious as he followed her inside, clearly on edge.