She met Kieran Argent’s gaze, spreading her hands innocently.

Kieran clicked his tongue, knitting his sword-like brows. “Yuan Argent. Get up.”

His stern voice carried quiet authority.

Yuan froze mid-flail, scrambled up with trembling arms, and sat sobbing. Tear-filled eyes glared at Alarieka before he pitifully reached for Kieran.

“Daddy, hold… Yuan hurts…”

Kieran remained unmoved, his dark eyes sharp. “Why did you do that?”

Yuan shrank under his stare, then pointed at Alarieka.

Alarieka raised an eyebrow.

Covering his eyes, Yuan bawled, “Bad lady tripped me! Daddy, help!”

Kieran asked flatly, “How?”

Wiping tears, Yuan sniffled, “Make her leave! Then I stop crying!”

“Leave?”

Yuan nodded eagerly. “Mmhmm!”

A sly smile crept in as he whispered, “Make her go. You can do it, Daddy!”

Still hiding his eyes, he missed Kieran’s deepening scowl.

Alaricka almost admired it.

Evicting people seemed ingrained in the Argent blood—even five-year-old Yuan had mastered it.

She looked up to find Kieran watching her, his brow furrowed.

Alaricka knew her place.

Yuan was Kieran and Roschelle’s only son. She? Just a guest they’d already thrown out once.

Yuan carried more weight here. Much more.

Even seeing Yuan trip himself, Kieran would side with his son.

Alaricka understood.

So she spoke first: “Then I’ll…”

“Alaricka.”

Shi Yao’s voice suddenly came through.

Alaricka blinked, her wrist already caught.

Pulled stumbling two steps forward, she was then pressed into an embrace with a hand on her shoulder.

Alarieka froze for half a second, staring at the face inches away. “Shi Yao.”

Shi Yao responded with a stiff hum, jaw tight, then tilted his head slightly to cast an unreadable glance toward the piano.

Alarieka paused. “What’s wrong?”

Shi Yao’s expression remained stormy as he offered no answer, only tightening his grip on her shoulder.

“Yuan Yuan!”

Roschelle rushed in, heels clicking, frantic but unable to move faster, left trailing behind as she lifted her skirt to hurry over.

Alaricka started to step back to make way, but Shi Yao pulled her behind the piano instead.

Alaricka glanced at Shi Yao again.

Roschelle charged in, half-kneeling to scoop up Yuan Yuan’s body, her heartache evident. “Yuan Yuan, why are you crying? Tell Mommy, why?”

Seeing Roschelle, Yuan Yuan immediately burrowed into her embrace, whimpering. “Mommy, it hurts…”

Alarieka watched the scene quietly.

Roschelle’s distress overflowed as she held Yuan Yuan close, her face pale as she looked at Mr. Argent. “Why does it hurt?”

Mr. Argent’s expression remained unmoved.

Yuan Yuan sobbed, “That bad lady tripped me on purpose! I fell, and everything hurts.”

Roschelle pressed, “Who’s the bad lady? Tell Mommy.”

Yuan Yuan pulled one hand free from Roschelle’s hold and pointed timidly… toward Alarieka standing nearby.

Roschelle’s eyes instantly deepened with pained understanding, a delicate and touching display of swallowing injustice for the greater good.

“Alarieka, may I ask why?”

Alarieka mentally clicked her tongue. Truly cut from the same cloth, this mother and son. Same old slander playbook. Anyone with eyes could see their coordinated act.

“Ask? What’s there to ask?” Shi Yao suddenly snapped, voice sharp with anger.

His fury, already simmering at the sight of the piano, spiked when Yuan Yuan dared collude with Roschelle right before him to frame Alarieka.

Alarieka raised an eyebrow. “Are you on dynamite?”

Shi Yao hissed at her under his breath, “You too. Shut it."

Alarieka: ?

Roschelle helped Yuan Yuan stand, guiding him to Mr. Argent’s side. She weakly grasped Mr. Argent’s arm, as if seeking strength to hold her up.

“Alarieka, I think… both Yuan Yuan and I need your explanation.”

Alarieka didn’t need to look to sense the explosive device beside her was about to detonate.