Chapter 291

Alaricka panicked, apologizing frantically.

Kieran seemed genuinely angered. No matter how she pleaded, he remained stone-faced and silent, as if truly disowning her as his student.

Kieran sat unmoved on the sofa. She apologized again and again, but he wouldn’t relent. Desperation reddened her eyes; clutching her clothes, tears welling, she gazed at him with pitiful caution—then tears fell without warning.

Only seeing her tears did Kieran soften slightly, though his tone stayed stern, like the harshest teacher Alaricka had known.

“Remember this lesson. I won’t tolerate a repeat.”

She nodded through sobs: “I understand.”

Not until years later did Alaricka comprehend what Kieran meant by “clever.”

Kieran Argent was her mentor, and she was his student. Over years together, Alaricka sometimes saw traces of Kieran in herself, especially in her eyes.

Kieran had been an excellent teacher, imparting countless lessons, yet he was also the demon who destroyed her life.

Before Rose returned, Kieran treasured her like fragile porcelain—afraid she’d shatter if held too tightly, melt if kept too close. Even servants who resented her status as the Argent family’s adopted daughter would greet her respectfully.

Kieran truly was the best elder brother, giving her the most precious gifts besides parental love. Her feelings for him ran bone-deep, unforgettable and enduring.

She didn’t just yearn for romantic love with Kieran; she depended on him like family. Years had etched him into her very bones.

In her heart, Kieran’s place remained irreplaceable.

Uprooting him would cause excruciating agony.

In her past life, she couldn’t stop trusting Kieran, couldn’t abandon hope. That was Kieran—the one and only Kieran who constantly indulged and understood her.

Had Rose not appeared, she might’ve forever believed she held the most special place in Kieran’s heart.

No matter how cruelly Kieran hurt her, she clung to fantasies—that he’d return, scold her in that familiar low voice, demanding she stand tall and live proudly.

Her illusions about Kieran shattered when her daughter died.

Now in this life, everything Kieran has given her far outweighs the pain and torment.

Truthfully, without memories of her past life, she’d repeat every mistake—still groveling, begging for Kieran’s return.

When she moved out later, she left behind all Kieran’s gifts. Instead, she took only that worn suitcase she’d first brought to the Argent’s villa, packing her meager belongings—things she’d genuinely bought herself.

She kept nothing else.

Clean breaks were essential—no lingering threads.

She refused to carry Kieran’s shadow within her.

The luxury brands Kieran bought for her, he later bought for Rose too.

Everything she lacked, Rose possessed.

In Kieran’s heart, she was never special.

Rose always held that unique position—unchanged.

Alaricka loathes recalling past moments with Kieran, yet admits her youthful admiration for him was inevitable.

But her former belief in being special to him now seems utterly foolish.

Remembering those delusions makes her wish she could travel back and slap her younger self.

Alaricka understands now: during her early days at the Argent home, any man treating her as Kieran did would’ve captured her heart just the same.

Kieran wasn’t extraordinary—merely appearing at the perfect moment.

Her most desperate moment.

Alaricka told herself just like that, breathing out heavily in her heart.

Favoritism and Exceptions

Alaricka stared at the skirt on Rose’s body, lost in thought. It took her several minutes to snap back to reality.

Kieran and Rose had long since left. The hospital room door clicked shut, as if no one had ever visited.

That dress Rose wore was one Alaricka had coveted for years in her past life. She’d placed it in her shopping cart, intending to ask Kieran’s assistant to purchase it for her.

Chapter 292

But man proposes, God disposes. Everything changed abruptly.

The dress she’d set her heart on would never be bought for her—and now, she couldn’t afford it herself.

Rose wore that very dress. The man Alaricka had secretly loved for years now had a child with Rose—still growing in her womb.

It wasn’t that she lacked the funds. Every penny in her bank account was earmarked; she dared not spend a four-digit amount on a dress.

Kieran had withdrawn every ounce of favor he’d ever shown her, leaving nothing behind.

Only after witnessing Kieran’s indulgence toward Rose did Alaricka realize: what he’d given her was merely a fraction of what Rose received.

Less like favoritism, more like charity.

She still remembered Kieran’s cutting words: “Don’t project your disgusting, presumptuous thoughts onto me.”

Alaricka used to fantasize: if she hadn’t fallen for Kieran, or if she’d hidden her feelings perfectly, would their relationship have remained unchanged? Not stiff and fractured as it was now?

Perhaps they could’ve been ordinary siblings. She might’ve politely addressed Rose as “sister-in-law.”

She’d entertained such illusions—until Kieran and Rose shattered them together.