Chapter 299

288 Vouchers

"That bitch deserves it! I've got 888 insults ready—free for anyone who joins!"

"Trash like her deserves to be torn apart! I’m in! Never lost a verbal fight!"

"Nobody's picking up though. Pathetic. Too scared to even answer? Guilty conscience much?"

"Same. Calls blocked. Sent her some ‘kind’ texts instead. Hope she reads them before crying herself to sleep. Orphan with no parents to comfort her anyway."

Alaricka scanned them all, her emotions eerily calm. The clearer things became, the steadier she felt.

Just days ago, when Rose was busy playing the victim, this scandal nearly overshadowed celebrity gossip. Every media outlet and influencer flooded feeds with righteous condemnations. One trending topic after another kept the frenzy alive.

Yet now? Rose’s extremist fans doxxed her, exposed private details of her and her contacts—and absolute silence. No media questioned it. No influencers criticized it. No related hashtags. Not a whisper on the trending charts. The leak of her and her companions’ private details only spread within Rose’s fan circle, and no outsiders paid any attention.

Alarieka Huston thought bitterly.

It seemed even Roschelle Whitaker, who loved chasing trending topics, knew this disgraceful affair couldn’t see daylight—her fans doxing ordinary people would stain her reputation.

Rose always monitored every online mention of herself. She must’ve known. Seeing this now, Rose was probably delighted and smug. And Kieran Argent… he was undoubtedly involved too.

Alaricka glanced at the unknown number flashing again, hung up without hesitation, and powered off her phone. She flipped the device over, retrieved a pin tucked behind the case, and inserted it into the tiny hole beside the SIM tray. With a click, the tray ejected instantly. She removed the SIM card, slipping both it and the pin behind the phone case.

The housekeeper watched worriedly: “Ms. Huston, what if someone needs you urgently? You won’t receive any calls.”

Alarieka replied flatly, “It’s fine.” Blocking numbers was futile—new unknown callers always surfaced. Removing the SIM ended it cleanly.

She set the phone on the nightstand, pointing at a duffel bag across the room. “Bring that over, please.”

The housekeeper hurried to fetch the bag, placing it at Alarieka’s feet. “Ms. Huston, why do you need this?”

Alarieka rummaged through the bag, pulling out clothes. “I’m going out. Don’t follow me.”

She’d long known the housekeeper reported her daily routines to Kieran Argent. Overhearing once, she’d found the updates discreet—no prying—so she’d let it slide. But if she left now, the housekeeper would surely tail her.

Alarieka wouldn’t let either know her destination.

The housekeeper froze. “Ms. Huston, where are you going? Why not let me come? Your ankle’s still injured—it’s safer if I’m there. What if something happens? I could help…”

Alarieka tossed selected clothes onto the hospital bed, ignoring the questions. “Leave. I need to change.”

Without waiting, her fingers undid the first button of her hospital gown. The housekeeper hesitated, then exited silently.

Though her ankle throbbed, Alarieka changed alone—only slower with pants. Minutes later, dressed and equipped, she gripped her crutches and left the room.

The housekeeper trailed immediately, pleading: “Ms. Huston, please let me accompany you. Mr. Argent worries. So do I. I’ll just follow quietly—no interruptions. Promise.”

Alarieka Huston spoke tepidly: “Go back. I’ve said I don’t need you following me. I don’t want you following me.”

The housemaid looked visibly uncomfortable, stepping forward to support Alarieka while cautiously watching her expression. “Ms. Huston, Mr. Argent instructed me to care for you at all times. If anything happened to you on the road, it’d be hard to explain. And if Mr. Argent knew you went out without me… he’d surely blame me. Please let me accompany you, Ms. Huston. I absolutely won’t interfere.”

At this, Alarieka halted her steps, straightening her posture. The housemaid thought she’d relented, eyes fixed intently on Alarieka’s face.

Alarieka withdrew her arm from the housemaid’s grasp, turning sideways to gaze at her with detached calmness. Alarieka’s eyes were striking—clear obsidian pupils against white orbs, usually radiating purity. Yet inexplicably, the housemaid’s heart raced under that gaze, finding herself unable to meet those eyes directly.

The plea returned: “Ms. Huston, please just allow me to-”

“Auntie,” Alarieka cut in coolly, “I told Kieran long ago I needed no caretaker. He arranged you anyway. I never complained after your arrival since you’re just hired help with no authority.”

“Moreover, you call Kieran daily reporting my every move. I know this too. I never confronted you. I’ve been more than reasonable.”

The housemaid’s expression stiffened.

“I won’t make things difficult for you: Don’t make them difficult for me. You surely see Kieran and I don’t get along. I refuse to live under his constant surveillance—even my outings monitored. I detest this.”

“So auntie, go back. Stop following me.”

With that, Alarieka turned without another word, walking toward the elevator with her cane.

The housemaid’s eyes widened slightly. “At least tell me where you’re going, Ms. Huston?” she called after her.

She knew Alarieka must’ve heard—others ahead had turned at her shout.

But Alarieka gave no response, footsteps never faltering.

Behind her, the housemaid watched the retreating figure, face twisted in frustration. Clutching her chest with knitted brows, she sighed helplessly.