Chapter 182

Ebenezer struggled to articulate his words. "Marlon, calm down."

"You're the one who needs to calm down," Marlon retorted, his voice unwavering. "Ebenezer, you don't know what she means to me. Please, protect her."

Ebenezer pinched the bridge of his nose. "I get it." His best friend was distraught, and nothing he said could change that. He decided to try and reason with him upon their return to Elysiumville.

After hanging up, Ebenezer looked at the sky. "It shouldn't be more than a week before we can get back," he mused. It could have been sooner, but the Parker Group's sea-based search and rescue operation had prompted both countries to close their borders, significantly hindering travel.

Back in Elysiumville, Marlon hung up the phone. Ebenezer's words prompted him to recall his meeting with Yvonne—love at first sight. As he got to know her, he found himself increasingly drawn to her unique qualities. His feelings were entirely independent of her marital status. Had Hayden been a worthy husband, had they lived harmoniously, Marlon would never have had a chance; indeed, he would have blessed their union. However, Hayden was a scoundrel, having tormented Yvonne to the brink of death. For this reason alone, Marlon would never return her to him. With Hayden's impending remarriage, Marlon felt their bond would be irrevocably severed. This realization brightened his mood. He started the car and drove away excitedly. Yvonne is still alive, he thought. Her failure to contact Hayden first shows he's no longer important to her, right? At least, not as important as he used to be.

Night fell swiftly. In the master bedroom on the second floor of Rosy House, Joanna entered slowly, surveyed the room, and sat before Yvonne's dressing table. She gently stroked the surface, opened the jewelry box, adorned her hands with the contents, and examined them with a sneer. "Yvonne," she declared, "everything that once belonged to you is now mine. Your home, your husband… What's the use of being born noble? You still died in the cold. Don't worry, I will take good care of your man… Your father is also my father now!"

Joanna had rehearsed this speech countless times. The servants, witnessing her, exchanged uneasy glances. They dared not speak openly, but privately seethed with indignation.

"It hasn't been long since Mrs. Parker passed," one servant remarked. "Is Mr. Parker really going to marry again?"

"Is he marrying that woman from Mrs. Parker's room?" another whispered. "She doesn't look like a good person. She must be mean and vicious!"

"With Mrs. Parker gone," a third added, "I don't even want to work here anymore, but I can't find a better place…"

"Let's just see how it goes," a fourth servant concluded. "At least Mr. Parker is still good to us!"

Rita Linton overheard their hushed conversation. Frowning, she demanded, "What are you all discussing? Why aren't you working?"

The servants were startled, but their expressions were more worried than fearful. "Rita," several of the more emotional ones sobbed, "is Mrs. Parker… never coming back?"

Everyone knew the answer; their questions were merely a manifestation of their unwillingness to accept the truth.

Rita sighed. "I know you all miss Mrs. Parker, but… it's over. In the future, there will be a new Mrs. Parker." Her words were unmistakable. The woman in Yvonne's room tonight would soon take her place.

Grief filled the servants, but Rita's words silenced them. They disliked Joanna but had no choice but to accept her.

After the servants dispersed, Rita approached the master bedroom. She had always known Joanna was not to be underestimated. The peaceful days at Rosy House, she felt, were over. She knocked gently. "Ms. Charlotte?"

Joanna, admiring Yvonne's jewelry as if they were trophies, responded without turning, "Are you the housekeeper of Rosy House?"

"Yes." Rita stepped into the room.

Joanna glanced at her disdainfully. "I heard you came from the Parker residence and have served Hayden for many years."

"Yes," Rita replied, keeping her responses brief to avoid mistakes and her own unwillingness to engage with such a woman.

"For that reason, you can stay," Joanna declared, already behaving as the mistress of the house. "Take good care of Hayden and me, and I won't treat you badly. But if you still miss the former Mrs. Parker, don't blame me for being ruthless…"

Sophia had instructed Joanna to replace all of Yvonne's former confidantes; only with her own people serving her could she feel comfortable. Rita, having come from the Parker residence, was safe, for now.

Rita's eyebrows twitched subtly, understanding Joanna's veiled threat. "Yes, Ms. Charlotte, don't worry," she replied.

Joanna, still restless, surveyed the room with disgust. "Throw away everything Yvonne used," she commanded. "Replace these sheets and quilts. I heard she loves the peach blossoms in the backyard. Cut down all the peach trees and replace them with something else." She wanted anything reminiscent of Yvonne gone.

"Well…" Rita hesitated, capable of politeness but unable to bear discarding Yvonne's belongings.

"How dare you disobey me?" Joanna snarled, her face contorted. "I am the wife Layla chose for Hayden. I am going to spend the rest of my life with him! Can't I even make such a small decision?"

Rita, defeated, could only nod. "Yes, Ms. Charlotte." To think Layla would choose this woman, she thought. She has truly dreadful taste.

Seeing Rita's compliance, Joanna's mood improved. She resumed admiring the jewelry and asked casually, "Where is Layla?"

"Downstairs. Mr. Parker just returned," Rita replied.

"Hayden's back?" A smile spread across Joanna's face. She abandoned the jewelry and hurried downstairs.