Chapter 288: Chapter 288: Enough already, I don’t even know you!
Robert Stephens looked at her, his dark eyes still swirling with hostility, but his expression gradually calmed down.
He leaned against the sofa, closed his eyes slightly, and said in a calm voice, "Come in and clean up."
"Yes." Charlotte Smith responded softly, walked over, kneeling on the floor, and picked up the pieces of the incense burner that Robert had just smashed onto the ground one by one.
The incense had just been burning, and the fragments were scorching hot. Charlotte kept her head down, her fingertips turning red from the burns, not daring to complain.
"You’re too slow." The man’s lukewarm voice hit her from above.
"I’m sorry." She apologized instinctively, and her fingertip accidentally got cut by a sharp piece of porcelain. Bright red blood instantly mixed into the ashes on the floor. She couldn’t help but let out a light hiss of pain, but didn’t dare pause, and quickly gathered the pieces to throw them into the trash.
By the time she had cleaned up all the ashes from the floor, five minutes had passed.
The man leaning on the sofa had already regained his calm expression, his long eyes, gentle as water, gazed at her faintly. The wound on Charlotte’s hand was still bleeding; she hid it behind her back and lowered her head in front of Robert Stephens, "Sir, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave."
"Come here."
"..." Charlotte paused slightly but obediently walked over.
"Show me your hand."
She instinctively looked up, meeting the man’s deep, dark eyes. They were so deep she could only see her slightly panicked reflection, unable to discern what he was thinking.
Charlotte was already used to obeying this man unconditionally. Though fearful, she still stretched out her bleeding finger as instructed.
The cut was on her forefinger, deep enough that blood continued to flow from her fingertip.
Afraid of staining the man’s lap blanket, she didn’t dare get too close, speaking softly, "I’m sorry, sir. I was careless."
The man didn’t reply, just took her injured finger with his cold hand, bringing it up close, "Does it hurt?"
Charlotte hesitated, gently shaking her head.
The next second, she saw the man lower his head slightly, enveloping her injured forefinger in his mouth, gently sucking away the blood at her fingertip...
Charlotte shivered all over. From her perspective, she could see the man’s gentle face and his long, thick black lashes.
This gentleness brought her a trembling daze.
Once upon a time, he had spoiled her too.
Spoiled her to the point that no one in the Stephens family dared to say "no" to her.
...
"Go wash your hands." The man spat out the blood, dabbed his lips with a napkin lightly, and said blandly.
Charlotte was still a bit dazed, not snapping back until the man raised his eyes to look at her, his gaze faintly showing impatience. She came to, instinctively responding with a "yes," and hurried to the bathroom.
The mirror reflected her pale face.
The wound had stopped bleeding.
On her fingertip remained the sensation of the man’s lips.
Charlotte lowered her head, slowly turned on the tap, and washed away the blood from her fingertip.
She didn’t know if Robert Stephens was acting on a whim, but she could only assume he was.
She was very clear that between her and Robert Stephens, nothing could return to the way it used to be.
*
When she came back from the bathroom, the man was lounging casually on the sofa.
He was covered with a blanket, his eyes closed, his dense lashes casting deep shadows in the dim indoor light.
Due to his leg injury, his body was weaker than an average person’s, and the air conditioning temperature was set very high.
Charlotte walked over, not daring to disturb him, softly treading on the carpet, about to leave, when she heard Robert Stephens’ indifferent voice, "You’re too slow."
"..."
"I told you to quickly deal with him and that woman’s affair. It’s been months and you haven’t handled it."
"..."
"If you found him so hard to part with, then why did you come back to me in the first place?"
Charlotte cautiously replied, "...I just didn’t want to hurt the young master too much."
"He’s not as fragile as you think," Robert Stephens said coldly.
Just when Charlotte thought he wouldn’t say anything more, he added, "Come to my room tonight."
"..." Charlotte’s spine stiffened. A few seconds later, she slowly relaxed and lowered her head, trying to loose her tense throat and replied in a soft, gentle voice:
"Yes."
*
Daisy Ginger was found under a lush paulownia tree as twilight neared.
When Edward Stephens was notified and arrived, Daisy was barefoot, crouched by the trunk, hair disheveled, clothes dirty here and there, looking very much like a homeless wanderer.
It was impressive how she could end up like this in half a day.
The man walked over, stood in front of her, looked down at her, "Come back with me. Stop making a fool of yourself here."
Daisy hugged her legs, ignoring him.
Edward glanced at her bare feet, frowned, took off his trench coat, placed it over her shoulders, then bent down to pick her up from the ground.
Before his arm could touch her, she jerked out her hand and forcefully pushed him away.
Edward stepped back a couple of paces, and behind him came a few small gasps from the attendants.
Daisy lifted her head, looking at him with a gaze filled with extreme hatred—a more intense emotion than disgust. Edward’s expression gradually cooled, and he stood before Daisy, speaking in a cold tone.
"Even if you look at me like that, you won’t get out. It takes half an hour by car from the villa entrance. Do you think you can make it on foot to my house’s gate?"
Daisy had climbed out of the villa, kept walking, and lost her way.
She had never seen such a large garden, with so much greenery, it was like accidentally walking into a forest.
Simply outrageous.
She stood up, threw Edward’s coat on the ground at his feet, as if she could no longer bear it, yelled at him with red eyes, "What do you want?! Enough, I don’t even know you!"
I don’t even know you.
This sentence hurts more than "I hate you."
In an instant, it wiped out all their relations over the past year.
The man stood before her, his expression growing colder and harsher in the dimming light.
Daisy could not see his expression. Her heart was full of fear and despair, along with unspeakable anger. She felt she could no longer endure, unwilling to be entangled with anyone from the Stephens family any longer, whether it was this man or Lady Stephens—she never wanted to see them again in her life!
She had never been toyed with in this way, not even when facing Ian Linton had she been so fearful. She was no match for this family; if she stayed here, she’d either be driven mad or destroyed.
"That’s enough. I don’t care about whatever grievances you and your family have now, but it has nothing to do with me anymore." She looked up at him, "You come back with me to Banyan City, and we’ll settle the divorce proceedings."
"And then?"