Chapter 444

Alarieka pressed her lips into a smile, offering no reply.

As they spoke, they reached the study.

Just as Alarieka raised her hand to knock, Kieran interrupted her motion. “No need. He’s here.”

Following Kieran’s gesture, Alarieka asked, “My old room?”

Kieran gave a noncommittal hum.

Hesitantly lowering her hand, Alarieka questioned, “Why would Wallace be in my old room instead of the study?”

Ignoring her query, Kieran turned and opened the door to her former bedroom.

Unease prickled Alarieka, but with so many guests downstairs – Victor included – she followed him in.

Kieran stood guard by the door, shutting it immediately behind her.

The room was brightly lit, clearly with newly replaced bulbs.

Alarieka lingered at the threshold, her emotions churning.

Everything remained exactly as she’d left it – untouched. Her quilt, pillows, bookshelf… all preserved with meticulous care, even cleaner than before.

The sole alteration was the inexplicable presence of a grand piano.

After a momentary daze, Alarieka steadied herself. She scanned the room thoroughly before stepping onto the balcony for a look.

Returning to the balcony doorway, she crossed her arms, expression icy.

“Kieran, where’s Wallace?”

Kieran’s dark eyes never left her. Suddenly he moved, advancing toward her with deliberate steps.

Alarieka instantly retreated a step, defenses rising.

But Kieran halted abruptly before the piano. Lifting the lid, he pressed a key. A crystal-clear note resonated through the room.

“So you lied to me?”

Alarieka pressed again, “Kieran, what exactly are you doing?”

“It’s been too long since I heard you play. Play for me once more.”

He trailed his fingers over the keys, his low voice more captivating than the piano’s echo in the quiet room.

Alarieka frowned. “If you want piano music, ask Mrs. Argent. She’s the professional, after all. And your wife – as she should be.”

Kieran struck another key.

This time, the note clashed discordantly.

He lifted his gaze to hers. “I want to hear you play.”

Alarieka let out a cold laugh. “But I owe you no performance, Mr. Argent. If you require one, I’ll arrange a pianist for you – daily recitals, even.”

With that, she strode past him, her steps swift and decisive.

Kieran Argent grabbed her arm, pinning her in place as Alarieka struggled futilely.

Frustration sharpened Alarieka’s icy tone: “Kieran Argent.”

His grip tightened. “I told you, I don’t want anyone else.”

Alarieka retorted coldly, “Well, neither do I.”

Kieran’s low, magnetic voice filled the space, ignoring her protest. “Years ago, I never got to give you that piano. Hope it’s not too late now.”

Alarieka’s brow twitched.

He was recalling her birthday years prior.

Back then, Kieran had prepared a seven-figure piano for her as a gift.

But Roschelle Whitaker’s sudden appearance had laid bare Alarieka’s private feelings.

Kieran Argent mocked her childish feelings as unworthy, tearing their relationship apart, and on her birthday gave the piano meant for her to Roschelle Whitaker.

Over the years, Alarieka Huston had long moved on from the past.

Yet she still remembered feeling completely submerged in ice water, unable to breathe.

“Thanks for the thought, Mr. Argent, but no need.”

Alarieka Huston heard her own voice echo clearly in the silent room.

Her gaze stayed cool and decisive as she lifted her eyelids, looking calmly at Kieran Argent: “Mr. Argent, you seem to forget I can afford better pianos now. I don’t need anyone buying me one.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, this piano matched the one Kieran Argent had planned to give her years ago.

There was no fixing what lay between them.

Kieran Argent’s face showed no emotion: “I thought you’d like it.”

Like expired “snacks”?