Matthew frowned. Martin seemed to have accepted Brandon’s words, which could complicate matters.
“Mr. Carter, please let me explain. He attacked me first. I had to defend myself,” Matthew explained.
Martin’s expression remained stern. “Why would he attack first? Clearly, he saw something suspicious about you. Now, tell me, where is your family from?”
Rachel tried to intervene. “Dad, I’ve already told you about Matthew. Why are you asking again?”
Martin shot her a glare. “Be quiet!”
Rachel fell silent, frowning. Her eyes were filled with concern.
Matthew had no choice but to answer, “My family lives in Silverbrook Village, in the Brackenridge district of Lambda City.”
“Silverbrook Village?” Martin raised an eyebrow with a hint of disdain. “A rural village?”
Matthew nodded. “Yes, a rural village.”
Disgust flashed across Martin’s face. “A country boy, huh? No wonder you’re so aggressive.” Martin shook his head in disappointment and turned abruptly to Rachel. “I’ve told you before, Rachel! You should only date someone from Khoitwood. No one from outside Khoitwood, especially not some country bumpkin.”
Ignoring Matthew, Martin strode off into the courtyard. Yvonne hesitated, glanced sympathetically at Matthew, sighed, and then followed Martin. Rachel approached Matthew and whispered, “Don’t be upset. Let’s go in.”
Matthew’s expression darkened. He had never felt ashamed of his origins, but Martin’s disapproving words stung. But since Rachel insisted, Matthew followed her quietly.
As he stepped into the courtyard, Martin whirled around, shouting, “Who said you could come in?”
Matthew stood frozen, struggling to contain his anger. He had been tolerant, but being denied entry was the last straw. He turned and walked away.
Martin sneered. “You think someone like you can just walk into the Carter residence? Dream on!”
Brandon watched as Matthew was ejected. He felt the pain he endured was worthwhile; disrupting Rachel’s marriage would earn him a reward from Quon.
Rachel panicked as Matthew walked away. Fred had instructed her to solidify her relationship with Matthew, but Martin had driven him out.
“Dad, Matthew wasn’t the one who made the first move. It was Grandpa and I who visited his place to propose.”
Martin’s eyes widened in shock. Fred would never lower himself to ask for someone’s hand in marriage. Who was this Matthew, really? Realizing he couldn’t undermine Fred’s plan, Martin called out, “Hey! Walt! Matthew! Don’t leave. Come back, I need to talk to you.”
Matthew hated the insincerity, but his expression remained cold. “What is it?” He couldn’t shake off the feeling of being unwelcome, and he wasn’t going to pretend everything was fine.