Chapter 7
Mrs. Westwood breathed a sigh of relief, then spoke softly to Amber. “Darling, when are you coming home? It rained yesterday, and I was worried you’d catch cold. I brought some homemade soup for you.”
Blake flipped a page of his contract, scoffing. “Is my household suddenly short on soup-makers?”
Clearly, Mrs. Westwood had heard the rumors circulating and came specifically to check on their situation.
Amber lowered her eyelashes, responding docilely, “I was out job hunting today. I’ll be home soon.”
Mrs. Westwood relaxed, smiling. “Good, good. I was afraid you’d get depressed sitting alone at home all day. If you want a job, I’ll have Blake arrange something at the company-something with high pay and light workload. That’s what you young people prefer, isn’t it?”
Amber couldn’t bear to listen anymore. She was only playing along to prevent Mrs. Westwood from having a stress-induced episode. After a few more polite exchanges, she ended the call.
Once the disconnection tone sounded, Mrs. Westwood hurled a throw pillow at Blake.
Explain yourself! What’s going on? Is Westwood Corp going bankrupt? Why is she job hunting?!”
She wants financial independence. Why are you making such a fuss?”
Mrs. Westwood clutched her chest, feeling her blood pressure rise. “If you had even half your brother’s gentlemanly qualities…”
A cold gleam flashed through Blake’s eyes. Gentleman?
He was just a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
ince being brought back into the family seven years ago, Blake had survived countless assassination attempts-too many to bother counting anymore.
Having calmed down slightly, Mrs. Westwood sighed. “Fine. Just treat Amber properly. She’s such a sweet girl-I liked her from the moment I saw her. Back hen you were so eager to marry her. God knows what happened since to create this ugly situation.”
lake remained silent, focusing on his contract.
oon after, Amber arrived home.
Grandma,” she called softly from the entryway as she changed her shoes. Taking a few steps forward, her vision suddenly blurred, and she nearly collapsed.
Ars. Westwood almost fainted herself from fright, rushing forward to help. But Amber managed to steady herself against a nearby cabinet, barely staying pright.
ler complexion was terrible. “I’m sorry, Grandma. Didn’t mean to scare you. Just feeling a little dizzy.”
For God’s sake! Blake, if Amber dies from this fever, I’ll NEVER forgive you!”
imber couldn’t make out what they were arguing about as she finally lost consciousness.
When Jackson arrived, he took her temperature and performed a brief examination. “It’s just a fever due to physical weakness. A few days’ rest after the fever reaks and she’ll be fine. Please don’t worry, Mrs. Westwood.”
Mrs. Westwood sat beside the bed, watching Amber’s closed eyes. Furious, she moved to grab Blake’s ear.
Look what you’ve done to her! Why does Amber keep getting thinner?”
ackson hesitated before adding, “She’s showing signs of mild malnutrition.”
Blake’s expression instantly darkened. His wife suffering from malnutrition? The humiliation if word got out!
He summoned the two housekeepers who normally cared for Amber at the mansion.
The housekeepers knelt in terror.
“Sir, it’s not our fault! Mrs. Westwood doesn’t like eating. She just reads books all day and often forgets meals.”
Yes, we remind her, but she doesn’t listen.”
Their faces pale with fear, they answered when Blake asked, “What dishes do you typically prepare?”
“Crab stuffed orange, crab meatball soup, braised pork belly… all sophisticated dishes requiring technique.
Blake smiled coldly. “Are those what YOU want to eat, or what SIIE wants? You’ve cared for her for three years and don’t know she’s allergic to crab? Or that she dislikes oily dishes like braised pork belly?”
The housekeepers knocked their foreheads against the floor. “Sir, we truly didn’t know!!”
3
Mrs. Westwood had seen this scenario many times-staff mistreating someone who had fallen from favor. Amber wasn’t one to complain, so she’d endured
until her health deteriorated to this state.
Blake’s face darkened with gathering storm clouds, his eyes flashing with terrifying rage. “Pack your things and get out. NOW.”
Both housekeepers had been transferred from the main estate, so Mrs. Westwood knew them. They knelt beside her.
‘Mrs. Westwood, we’ve served the Westwood family for years. Please don’t let us go!”
Mrs. Westwood kicked them away. “The mistress is malnourished while you two have grown round-faced and thick-waisted. You’ve been feeding yourselves quite well these past years, haven’t you?”
Their faces drained of color, and they dared not speak further.
For years, Amber had barely spoken to them, silently reading books and eating only simple vegetables. Most days she just stared out the window, seemingly depressed. They weren’t doctors, and everyone knew she wasn’t favored-Blake hardly ever came home.
They’d grown increasingly bold, preparing expensive delicacies like king crab and black abalone-the most extravagant ingredients available-which ultimately ended up in their own stomachs while Amber never complained.
‘Mrs. Westwood, we… we…”
Jnable to offer any defense, they slunk away in disgrace.
Mrs. Westwood massaged her temples, then suddenly slapped Blake across the face. “Look what you’ve done! If you truly don’t care for her, divorce her properly! Poor Amber must have terrible karma to end up with a man like you.”
The unexpected slap caused Blake’s head to tilt slightly.
ackson stood awkwardly nearby. He’d known Mrs. Westwood was fond of Amber, but hadn’t realized the depth of her affection.
gnoring the slap, Blake turned his grandmother around. “Grandma, please go rest in the guest room. If you truly want her to recover, stay here for a while.”
Mrs. Westwood shook off his hand. “Listen to me, Blake. I care for Amber far more than I care for you, you ungrateful boy. If you can’t appreciate her, I’ll find her a better match myself.”
A cold, dangerous look flashed in Blake’s eyes. “Who could she possibly be with besides me? Grandma, she’s been by my side since she was twelve.”
Back then, she’d been so small and starved to the bone. When he’d given her a piece of bread, she’d held it like a precious treasure.
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