Chapter 63
After those waiters walked over, Alaricka quietly came out from the corner. She didn’t take the road all the guests would take; she took the little path by the stairs. She touched the doorknob at the top of the stairs, and a woman’s hesitant voice suddenly sounded behind her.
“Who were you?”
Alaricka grabbed the thin blanket on her shoulders, took a deep breath, and suddenly twisted the doorknob. She quickly lifted her leg to leave, but the thin blanket on her shoulder was yanked off from behind.
“Are you Alaricka?” The woman’s voice got more and more firm. “You came back; Mr. Argent hasn’t let you go yet.”
Alaricka’s heart skipped a beat, and without bothering about the blanket someone had yanked off, she lifted her foot to run. Behind her, the sound of hurried, chaotic, and many footsteps got closer and closer, and she could also hear a middle-aged woman shouting.
“Don’t let her go, Mr. Argent hasn’t let her leave yet.”
When Alaricka was forced to kneel on the ground, her mind went blank.
Da, da, da…
She slowly looked up, and a pair of shiny black leather shoes and a pair of feet in high heels appeared in front of her. Alaricka looked up and suddenly met Kieran’s dark eyes, and also Roschelle’s gentle, half-smiling gaze. Roschelle looked worried and frowned. “Alaricka, what happened to you… Mr. Gomez didn’t do anything to you, did he?”
Alaricka was panting and stared at Kieran: “Antoine is already gone, what else do you want me to do?”
Kieran’s eyes were dark, and his voice was even colder: “Alaricka, you never learned your lesson.”
Alaricka clenched her fists. Since she was reborn, this was the most humiliating moment for her. She gritted her teeth, “Kieran, what else do you want me to do to be good? How else do you want me to listen?”
Kieran said, “I told you, don’t give Rose a hard time.”
Roschelle held onto Kieran’s arm, her cheeks a little red, and she seemed to give Kieran a playful look. “Kier, I’m fine, so don’t worry about me.”
Alaricka shut her eyes tight.
It was this sentence again.
Still the same thing.
Kieran always wanted her to give in to Roschelle, always wanted Roschelle to get her way, even wanted her daughter to give way to Roschelle’s son.
Why?
Roschelle walked over, pushed away the waiter pressing on her, put both hands on her arms, and said softly: “Alright, Kier was just mad. I’ll talk to him later. You don’t need to kneel on the floor anymore; get up.”
Roschelle got close, and Alaricka could smell the fir scent from Kieran on her. She could clearly hear the sarcasm and contempt in Roschelle’s voice. Alaricka suddenly shook off Roschelle’s hand, stood up, looked up at Kieran, and smiled openly.
“Okay, I promised you, I wouldn’t give Roschelle a hard time anymore.”
Alaricka stubbornly tilted her head up. “But you also had to promise me, let Ms. Wright go; this had nothing to do with her.”
She thought that if Kieran heard her say that, at least he’d feel a bit better and wouldn’t be so aggressive anymore. But she looked at Kieran and frowned a little, like she was even more unhappy.
Alaricka lowered her head, picked up the thin blanket from the ground, and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. She gave a bitter tug at the corner of her mouth, “So, can I go now?”
Kieran suddenly looked up and pressed his fingertip on the skin where her neck met her collarbone, pushing down a little harder. Alaricka had fair skin, so this not-too-big, not-too-small bruise on her neck was pretty obvious, like a drop of ink on a white sheet of paper—strange and out of place.
Alaricka frowned in pain and slapped Kieran’s hand. “What are you doing?”
With a snap.
A faint red mark appeared on the back of Kieran’s hand. The staff member next to me widened their eyes a bit, and their heart suddenly jumped.
This was Kieran. How could Kieran possibly let anyone offend him, and how could anyone even try to offend him? At that time, all the staff looked at Alaricka with a sympathetic look. They could pretty much all guess what Alaricka was going to face next.
But even when Alaricka slapped Kieran’s hand, Kieran didn’t let go. Instead, he pressed down even harder on Alaricka’s bruise. He squinted his eyes, his tone serious: “What is this?”
What else could it be?
The irony in Alaricka’s heart was even stronger. She sneered, “Mr. Argent was already a twenty-seven-year-old man. He couldn’t possibly not see what this was, right?”
Kieran’s face suddenly darkened, and he kept rubbing that bruise with his fingertip, like he wanted to wipe the dirt off her.