Chapter 1
“I’m pregnant with Roger’s child.” Elinor Ashford was supposed to be celebrating her wedding night with Roger Carleton, but before she could step into the embrace of her new husband, she found herself tied up and captive. She turned her head slightly, squinting to see the figure looming nearby. “And tying me up is going to do what exactly? Do you honestly think that pathetic excuse for a man is going to come and save me?” The moment the words left her mouth, a sharp slap echoed around the dimly lit warehouse. “Smack.” “What right do you have to talk about him, ugly?” The blow knocked the cloth mask from the woman's face, revealing an alluring visage marred by an ugly scar that ran diagonally across her cheek, twisting her ethereal beauty into something grotesque. This ugly woman managed to snag Roger Carleton, and jealousy burned in the woman’s eyes. “I’m going to kill you.” A glint of steel flashed, and before Elinor could react, she kicked out hard with her foot. “Thud.” “Bang.” The sounds collided as the woman stumbled back, crashing to the ground in a heap. Suddenly, the heavy door of the warehouse burst open, revealing a tall, confident figure silhouetted against the light. The voice that followed dripped with mockery. “Isabella, long time no see.” Oh, great. Elinor bit back her fury, tugging at the bindings that held her wrists. They were tied securely, and no matter how hard she pulled, she was stuck. “Roger Carleton, do you even remember you’re supposed to be getting married today?” In the harsh light, the man stood regal and casual, his devil-may-care charm evident even in his simple outfit. He was every bit the handsome rogue, with striking features that could have been carved from marble—if marble came with an attitude. “Surprised about the ropes?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping across his lips. “Didn’t realize you were into that kind of thing.” “Cut the crap, Roger Carleton! Get me out of these ropes, now!” Elinor clenched her jaw, frustration bubbling over. Roger gestured to his assistant, Theodore Woodward, who promptly approached to subdue the woman nearby. Then he stepped closer to Elinor, lingering over the knots binding her. “Your mess, your responsibility,” he said, his tone far too easygoing. “You’re mad I’m late, aren’t you?” Elinor could hardly contain her disdain. “If you had come any later, I’d have handled it myself.” “Oh, really?” Roger released the knot slightly, an amused glint in his eye. “Why don’t you show me how?” With a yelp, Elinor tumbled to the floor again, glaring as Roger’s smug face loomed over her. “Roger Carleton!” “Isabella, keep your voice down. Save some energy for the bedroom.” His voice was annoyingly breezy, like he was joking about something trivial. Grinding her teeth, Elinor tried to keep her cool. She refused to give him the satisfaction. “Sir, I found out more about her.” Theodore brought a tablet closer. “She’s a social media influencer with three hundred thousand followers, and yes, she’s definitely pregnant. The father? Unclear.” Dealing with a girl like this could be a real headache. Theodore eyed the woman still restrained nearby, concern knitting his brow. “What do you want to do, sir?” Roger tilted his head, his eyes glinting with a chilling resolve. “Eliminate her.” “Wait.” Elinor finally fought her way free of the ropes, cutting off the bodyguards before they could act. “Roger Carleton, that woman is carrying your child!” Realization dawned on Roger, and he smiled, a twisted amusement dancing in his gaze. “Isabella, we live in a society with laws. What exactly are you suggesting?” He stepped closer, gripping her chin with his fingers, studying her face as if she were a puzzle he was trying to solve. “Or are you just a bit jealous?” Elinor shoved his hand away, frowning. “I’m just trying to protect the Carleton family’s reputation.” This return to the family was hard-won, and there was no way she’d let anything go wrong. Not now, not when she was trying to help Roger find his footing. “Ha,” he scoffed, glancing over to the dazed woman slowly regaining consciousness. “I don’t care if you want to play the saint, but that child? Not my problem.” Not his problem? She didn’t believe that for a moment. Elinor narrowed her eyes, her focus darting back to the woman. “Ugh…” The disoriented woman’s pained groans pierced the air, and upon seeing Roger, she burst into tears. “Roger…you can’t do this to me!” “Get her out of here,” Roger ordered coolly, his icy gaze cutting through the chaos. Elinor was unceremoniously shoved into the back of a waiting car. The driver, a family physician, began checking her over, but when his hand brushed against her skin, she instinctively recoiled. “I’m fine,” she said, casually tossing her hair to mask the scars on her cheek. The doctor briefly flickered with panic before catching her eye and easing back, respecting her space. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her attention. As she glanced down, a message flashed: “Boss, the bidding for Blackstone Enterprises has started. This time, the Carleton family is pushing for the site of Ironspire Forge.” Elinor’s heart sank, her fingers flying across the screen as she typed a quick response. “Bid.” The Carleton family of Aldermark was a dynasty in the business world, always at the pinnacle of success. Edmund Carleton, the eldest son, was a military and political powerhouse. Raymond Carleton, a medical prodigy, had healed countless lives with his genius. Yet Roger—he was the black sheep, aimless and reckless, nearing thirty with nothing but scandal to his name. Most people couldn’t figure out why, but Elinor knew: Roger was the illegitimate child of the second branch of the Carleton family, claimed despite a murky lineage that left him with an uncertain status. The Carleton family, desperate to uphold their reputation, had grudgingly given Roger a chance in the company’s latest bidding war. Elinor’s mission was clear: help Roger secure the victory, earn the respect of the elderly Carleton patriarch. Because only when Roger found stability within his family could she... The car finally glided to a halt in front of Willowbrook Cottage—the Carleton family's gift for Roger and Elinor. She hadn’t even had time to soak in the atmosphere before she was kidnapped and dragged away. The next evening, after all the servants had been sent away, Elinor sank into a hot bath shrouded in steam. Her fingers traced the fogged mirror, revealing her unblemished face, but next to it lay the scar-laden skin that reminded her of battles fought and lost. Her phone buzzed again, and she frowned, pressing the answer button. On the other end came a furious voice. “Elinor Ashford, how dare you run away on your wedding night? Do you even know who you’ve crossed? That’s the Carleton family!”
Chapter 2
Elinor Ashford leaned back against the plush seating of her opulent bedroom, a sardonic smile creeping across her lips. “Let me remind you, Mrs. Ashford, Mr. Ashford, it’s not me who crossed the Carleton family,” she tossed back, a hint of arrogance lacing her voice. “Have you forgotten who was supposed to tie the knot? Would you like me to remind them?” When the Carleton family first floated the idea of an alliance, Roland Ashford had envisioned nothing but profit and prestige. Yet, that dream tarnished when they sent Roger Carleton off to settle down with someone else, leaving the Ashfords scrambling for a solution. Liliana Ashford, ever hungry for status, scoffed at the notion, and it triggered a jolt of memory in Roland. His mind darted to his eldest daughter from his first marriage, and without a second thought, he retrieved Elinor from her quiet life in the countryside. In their eyes, being an Ashford was enough; scars—both visible and hidden—were inconsequential to the Carleton family’s true desires. Elinor, however, was less than thrilled with the arrangement. Threats concerning her beloved grandmother back home forced her hand, and just like that, she found herself en route to the Carleton family, sedated and compliant. But nobody could have predicted that on the eve of her wedding, she would vanish. “Don’t forget that your grandmother is still in our hands,” Gwendolyn Greenwood's shrill voice sliced through the calm, her authority straining the room. Elinor’s gaze turned frosty. “Gwendolyn, if a single hair is harmed on my grandmother, you will pay dearly.” They had no idea how little power they truly had over her. Elinor was bound to no one, not by will nor by chains. “Let’s remember, the one marrying Roger Carleton is me. Spare the threats.” Roland Ashford flinched at the edge in her tone, eyeing Gwendolyn with a glare sharper than a knife. “Where are you?” he asked slowly, too aware of the gravity of the situation. “We need to talk in person.” “In person?” Elinor echoed, a laugh devoid of mirth escaping her lips. “No thanks; I’m not interested in seeing you right now.” “If it’s important, don’t disturb me.” With that, she ended the call, her heart racing. “Clap, clap, clap.” The sudden applause startled her. A figure emerged from the haze as Roger Carleton stepped through the doorway, irreverent amusement dancing in his eyes. “Surprised?” he teased, closing the distance between them with an ease that annoyed her. Elinor instinctively shielded her face with her hair. “Get out.” Roger smirked, tilting his head as he lifted her chin with an insouciant touch. “Kidnapped on your wedding night? Not the best omen, but there’s something we need to return.” “Return what?” Elinor shot back, fighting the heat rising in her cheeks as the closeness forged a reluctant tension. In a swift move, she seized his wrist, twisting it just enough to assert dominance. Before she could react, Elinor forced Roger down, pushing his head toward the water. “Wash your brain.” The room grew serious as Roger’s eyes darkened, his strength pouring forth as he broke free from her grasp and shoved her against the wall. “Miss Ashford seems eager to play widow,” he said, an infuriating grin creeping across his lips. “Are you trying to die?” Elinor snapped, anger flaring. “Calm down,” he responded, unperturbed by her rage. “I plan to find out who’s behind your little bravado. For now, just accept your role as my wife; I promise not to mistreat you.” He leaned closer, the mixed scent of whiskey and something primal enveloping her senses. Elinor recoiled slightly, confusion swirling with indignation as her heart raced. “Let me go,” she demanded, squirming against him, fully aware of how improper their position was. “Ha,” Roger chuckled, releasing her. “Afraid?” Elinor stood frozen for a moment, turning her back to him as she collected herself in front of the mirror. The scars on her skin, reminders of battles fought, were hidden; a sigh of relief washed over her. Compared to kidnapping, Roger might emerge as the bigger threat here. “Roland’s the one who forced this marriage,” Roger ventured, a note of contemplation in his voice. “All because of your grandmother.” She turned sharply, her expression darkening. “You heard everything.” “Yep,” he replied casually. There was a strange glimmer in his eye, something almost devilish that made her stomach twist. “What do you want?” “More importantly, what does Roland want? The Carleton family’s backing?” His voice danced with amusement as he regarded her. Elinor frowned. “What my father wants is entirely separate from us. This marriage is a business deal—one year, and I get ten percent of the Carleton Group's shares. I’ll play along, but—” “But you plan on divorcing after a year?” Roger interrupted, determination edging his gaze. Taking a step away from him, Elinor affirmed, “Once the contract ends, I’m gone. I need to find the truth about everything.” He narrowed his eyes, turning to catch her as she distanced herself. Just as he opened his mouth, his phone began to ring. “Hello?” he answered, his tone instantly shifting to smooth flirtation. From across the room, Elinor could hear the sultry coos on the line—just business as usual for someone like him. “Mr. Carleton, with all your commitments, don’t you think it’s time to get back to work?” she sneered, an edge of disdain threading her words. “Busy days call for desperate measures,” he replied with a chuckle, hanging up and not bothering to hide the smirk. Elinor glared, disbelief spilling from her lips. “Seriously? How can someone be so shameless?” Watching as her irritation grew, Roger edged toward the door with a teasing grin. Fuming, Elinor turned to flip him off behind his back, the contempt palpable. A sudden beep from her phone, left abandoned in the bathroom, pulled her attention. “Boss, the Carleton family just sealed the deal on Leonard.” “What?” Frozen mid-motion, Elinor’s mind raced as the caller continued, “Roger Carleton just secured that plot of land in the Ironspire Forge area—no competition, all internal.” Internal appointment. Who else but Roger Carleton? Elinor’s eyes widened; she hadn’t expected him to wield that kind of influence. After all, the Carleton family had sent him just to fulfill a family obligation. He’d turned the tables to bag Leonard.
Chapter 3
She was the infamous Clown. Just five seconds ago, this man had been in their marital suite, so… Her lips paused, and in the next heartbeat, a knowing smile spread across her face. “Roger Carleton, you’re becoming quite captivating,” Elinor Ashford said, her tone cool yet intrigued. “Boss, what should we do now?” came the nervy voice of her assistant. “Stick to the plan.” A sharp rapping at the door interrupted their exchange. Elinor furrowed her brow as a respectful voice called from outside, “Madam, are you ready? Mr. Carleton said you’ll be attending the gala with him tonight.” Here already? It was customary at Blackstone Enterprises; after the bidding concluded, there was always a charity auction to thank the dignitaries who attended, with all proceeds pledged to a cause—though everyone knew it was merely for show. Elinor hung up the phone and said tersely, “Come in.” The servant hurried in, carrying an extravagant gown and jewelry. The sheer opulence was almost blinding. Two hours later. Shadowcourt Hall. The charity gala for Blackstone Enterprises unfolded in a dazzling Nordic-style ballroom, filled with laughter and clinking glasses among a sea of elite attendees. “What a pity, who knew Nathaniel Carleton ended up marrying such an eyesore?” “Heard she can’t even go outside without scaring people away.” “Oh, and that Clown is coming tonight too—ah!” Before the woman could finish her thought, Elinor doused her in a glass of ice-cold wine. “Sorry about that,” Elinor chirped, wiping her hands with a tissue. “Little slip of the hand.” Unlucky for her, it slipped onto someone else’s face. The enraged woman, with fury etched across her features, glared daggers at Elinor. “You!” Seeing Elinor's stunning Esce gown from the latest collection and the million-dollar sapphire necklace adorning her neck, jealousy boiled in the woman’s gut. The scar that had once been a target of mockery was artfully obscured by a stray lock of hair. Disbelief stirred in the crowd as they recognized who the so-called Clown really was. “Ah, figured it out. That would be me, the ugly woman you’re all whispering about.” Elinor’s smile didn’t waver. Even with the scar, she radiated confidence and elegance, a stark contrast to her detractor. Her presence alone made the other woman flinch, but fueled by pride, she spat, “You dare to throw wine at me?” “Yeah,” Elinor replied, the nonchalance in her voice making it clear she meant every word. “Do you have a problem with that?” she added, her lips curling slightly. “This time it’s just wine; if I catch you running that mouth again, I might just have to sew it shut.” “You…” The woman looked ready to explode, raising her hand as if to strike—but Elinor’s reflexes were swifter. She grabbed the woman’s wrist and squeezed hard. “Ah!” The scream pierced the air as the woman was shoved aside, stumbling to the floor in an embarrassing heap. Heads turned toward the commotion. “How dare you? Do you know who she is?” someone chimed in, fueled by curiosity. “What’s that to me?” Elinor shot back, her eyes cooling as she regarded the now pale-faced woman. “We’re all human here, equals in this space. I don’t see any hierarchies.” “Or should I fear her because of Nathaniel Carleton’s influence?” Privilege didn’t mean a thing to her. Elinor couldn’t stand this kind of gathering where women fought tooth and nail to outshine one another, gossiping viciously about anyone and everyone. Few of these people were worth anything. Upon hearing Nathaniel’s name, several women recoiled, their faces falling. No matter what, the Carleton family’s power was undeniable. “Excuse me, could I get through?” A sweet voice cut through the tension, as a woman in a pink dress practically ignored the squabbling ladies on the floor, striding right up to Elinor. “Hello, Nathaniel’s wife,” the woman said, dripping condescension. Elinor raised an eyebrow, barely lifting her gaze. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” The woman’s smile faltered for just a second before she quickly recovered. “I’m Isabella Bennet, a friend of Nathaniel’s. Can we talk?” The nearby women discreetly drifted away, but Elinor waved a hand dismissively. “Friend? If you’re his friend, what do you want with me?” A brown-noser never came without ulterior motives. Isabella’s smile flickered again, and her tone grew stiff as she pressed on. “I… am Nathaniel’s ex-girlfriend—” “There are many of those. Which number are you?” Elinor cut in, a smile playing on her lips. How many women was she helping Roger Carleton disentangle himself from? Elinor’s patience began to wear thin. “You…” Isabella’s expression crumpled, her mask slipping away. “I’ll be honest. Roger and I had a good thing going until I decided to study abroad, and he ended up marrying you. But since I decided to sacrifice my chance to pursue my studies for him, you can leave now.” Two days into marriage, and she’s asking for a divorce? Elinor frowned, disliking complications, especially ones that promised chaos. “Oh? Then tell him to come talk to me. You don’t have the standing.” Elinor casually lifted a glass of champagne, taking a refined sip while growing impatient. “Enough of this. Time to find Roger.” As she moved to leave, Isabella stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Stop right there.” A bemused look spread across Elinor’s face. “You don’t love Roger at all, do you? Why not let him be happy? It would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” Elinor chuckled, “Sorry, but I prefer to take advantage of vulnerable situations.” “Excuse me?” Isabella stood her ground, defiance radiating from her. “Even if you’ve married him, he won’t love you. Your marriage won't last.” “Sure, you say that. But look at Roger.” Elinor now genuinely marveled at Roger Carleton. He was skilled in brainwashing these unaware girls. “Then why not work a little harder to get him to leave me?” “Who said I’d be leaving!” A cold voice cut through the air, causing Elinor to pivot, coming face to face with Roger, who wore a lazy but intrigued smile. But before she could say anything, Isabella pushed Elinor aside. “Roger, she’s not the one for you.” Isabella pleaded, morphing into a scene from a tragedy. “I’ve given up my chance to study abroad for you. If you divorce her, we can be together!” Elinor rubbed her temples in disbelief. Who had the audacity to be so brazen in front of the legal wife? “Who are you?”
Chapter 4
**The Unattractive Wife** Roger Carleton pushed past Isabella Bennet without so much as a glance, striding directly to Elinor Ashford and pulling her into his embrace. Elinor blinked in surprise. This wasn’t how the script was supposed to go. “Roger, it’s me, Shishi!” “Shishi?” Roger's brow furrowed as he regarded her coolly. “Which one are you? I’ve got a few 'Shishis' around here.” Isabella was momentarily speechless, heat flooding her cheeks. Elinor looked on, irritation flickering at the corners of her mouth. Oh, what a piece of work he was. Isabella seemed stunned, an expression of shock and pain washing over her features. “But you said you didn’t like ugly women.” Roger made a thoughtful sound, his fingers idly toying with the rim of his wine glass. “Now that you mention it, I seem to recall saying something like that.” In an instant, Isabella's tears transformed into hiccups of laughter, only to be silenced by Roger’s next comment as he smiled with an icy indifference. “But my wife isn’t ugly.” Like a deflated balloon, Isabella crumbled into sobs, her composure shattered. Elinor leaned against the wall, arms crossed, enjoying the spectacle. Roger had a knack for being refreshingly terrible. “Roger, I truly love you—” “How much do you want?” he cut her off, impatience dripping from his voice. Isabella hesitated, softening her tone, “Roger, I’m not after money.” Realizing her mistake in getting too deep, Isabella opened her mouth to explain, but Roger wasn't having it. “Mrs. Carleton can only be her. You can go now, without making this more complicated.” His gaze pinned her in place, and she shivered under the scrutiny. “Roger…” With a sardonic smile, he waved to the bouncers nearby. “Take her away.” His tone brooked no argument; he clearly wasn’t interested in further theatrics. Isabella’s eyes widened in horror. “No… please, Roger, I was wrong!” Moments later, she was ushered out, tears trailing behind her. Roger glanced at another woman nearby, embroiled in a different dispute with Elinor. He narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on between you two?” Elinor looked over, catching the woman’s eye before she cast hers downward. A smirk played on Elinor’s lips. “She called me ugly, but hey, ugly wives bring wealth.” Roger chuckled, his expression amused. “You certainly do, landing me a lucrative project right after we tied the knot. Quite the goldmine.” Elinor’s smile faltered. That project hadn’t been her doing; it had been predetermined. With the show concluded, her focus shifted to the charity auction still underway. The party was far from over, and she still had to keep up the pretense of being Roger’s dutiful wife. She shot him a pointed look before turning to walk away. Roger hadn’t expected her to linger. Just then, Theodore Woodward slipped up to him. “Sir, we’ve traced the person who was trying to bid against us.” Roger nodded, encouraging his assistant to continue. Theodore handed him a tablet. “It’s a newcomer in the industry, Kevin Quinn. Young, but highly elusive—no one’s even seen him so far.” “Gender?” “Rumor has it… he’s a man.” Rumor indeed. Feeling the cold scrutiny of Roger's gaze, Theodore would have preferred to be anywhere else. “We’ll dig deeper, sir.” “A no-name company can find out about Carleton’s bidding interest before we do?” Roger’s voice was casual, but the tension radiated. Someone wasn’t just competent; they were a threat. “Theodore Woodward, it seems your team is seriously slacking; you only noticed after I brought it up,” Roger continued sharply, his calmness contrasting with the storm brewing in his eyes. “It's our oversight,” Theodore admitted, breaking into a sweat. “You really should know why this woman is around,” Roger remarked, lifting his glass to his lips, his gaze still piercing towards that red-dressed figure across the room. Theodore, sensing the shift, stuttered slightly, “You mean… Mrs. Carleton?” “Country girl, right? You believe that?” The scornful laugh cut through the air, jolting Theodore into clarity. “Understood, we’ll find out the facts right away.” Roger snatched his gaze away and shot a flirtatious glance toward a nearby beauty. “No rush. As long as it doesn’t upset our plans, she can do as she pleases.” A pawn, nothing more. He had bigger battles to engage in. “Yes, sir,” Theodore replied, but concern flashed in his eyes. “Soon it’ll be that time again. Are you sure you don’t want to revisit The Western Realms?” Only the Carleton family knew of Roger’s secret malady. Once a year, he relived the trauma of his past accident, sometimes seizing or slipping into unconsciousness; at worst, he became a threat to anyone around. Therapists had tried to intervene, but nothing helped—he had to endure alone. The family was staunchly traditional; such embarrassing matters were kept tightly under wraps. Very few had been privy to Roger’s episodes over the years, but Theodore’s worries were valid. With Elinor still a mystery, exposing that vulnerability could be disastrous. In all those years, there had only been one occasion when he hadn’t been affected. That time had been due to... “I’ll handle it,” Roger replied, turning away. “Just see to your work.” “Yes, sir.” Meanwhile, Elinor had scanned the exhibit, only to return to her seat, disappointment hanging heavily in the air. Not surprisingly, this small showcase hadn’t provided any of the treasures she’d hoped for. Lost in thought, a dessert appeared before her, accompanied by a familiar, respectful voice. “Madam, would you care to try?” Elinor smirked, subtly slipping him a USB drive. “I’m not fond of sweet things—sorry.” The server bowed, but in their brief contact, whispered quickly, “The items have been sent. Don’t worry.” Elinor remained silent as he pocketed the drive. The rest of the event dragged on lethargically. Roger hadn’t reappeared, and she welcomed the peace; out of sight meant out of mind, until her phone buzzed. “Madam, the master requests your presence at Oakshield Gardens.” Oakshield Gardens, the Carleton family’s ancestral estate in Ravenhurst, was where unmarried and some older family members lived. Roger had been isolated there due to his status. Feigning surprise, Elinor replied, “When? Now?”
Chapter 5
**The Red Flag Stands Firm** “Right now. No waiting.” Agatha Moore, the anxious housekeeper, didn’t hide her urgency. “Madam, please be careful…” Her hesitation hung in the air, setting off alarm bells in Elinor Ashford's mind. “What’s going on?” Elinor asked as she headed toward her room. “Nothing specific… Just promise me you won't lose your cool. Just listen to what the old man says,” Agatha urged. The "old man" was Roger Carleton's grandfather. His father, Gareth Carleton, held little sway within the Carleton Manor, his reputation marred by mediocrity and a scandal involving an illegitimate son. The second branch of the Carleton family had struggled to hold their heads high for years. Elinor picked up on the tension, stepping outside where a sleek Bentley awaited her. Oakshield Gardens nestled next to a central park, an oasis of tranquility amidst the bustling city—its design inspired by traditional Suzhou gardens, featuring pavilions and winding paths that spoke of elegance. After being escorted by the butler through the fragrant gardens, Elinor entered the grand hall, where the elder members of the second branch of the Carleton family sat, alongside the formidable patriarch. The grandfather, his shock of silver hair framing a weathered face, still exuded an air of sharp intelligence. “Grandfather,” Elinor greeted obediently, only to be met with a venomous retort from a woman nearby. “Elinor Ashford, you’ve got some nerve. Get down on your knees.” At her words, Elinor's brow arched, a cold gleam flickering in her eyes, though she maintained a calm facade. It was the first time she had encountered her mother-in-law, and she wasn’t impressed with the display of authority. “I believe it’s not New Year yet. Is that how we greet family here?” Elinor shot back, meeting Marianne Kingsley's glare head-on. Marianne did not expect such defiance. Her ugly countenance twisted in irritation as she snapped, “Is that how you speak to your mother-in-law? As a daughter-in-law of the Carleton family, your duty is to keep your husband in check. Just look at your wedding night—” “Marianne,” the elder Carleton interjected, his voice a steely calm that effectively quieted her fury. “What’s all this shouting about?” “Dad…” Marianne's voice wobbled as she attempted to justify herself. “If it weren't for us managing the situation, think of what they’d say outside. And who’s to say the kidnappers weren’t after her for a reason?” The second branch had already been stricken low in the family hierarchy thanks to Roger, and now with such a bride, the whispers would only grow louder. As the grandfather absentmindedly twisted a jade bracelet in his fingers, he cast an appraising look at Elinor. “I heard that woman is pregnant.” “The child isn’t his,” Elinor replied steadily. “Grandfather, it's true I mishandled things, and I'm sorry for causing you concern.” Her unexpected composure caught the attention of all three present, especially the elder, whose gaze softened, if only slightly. Marianne's frustration mounted. The old man had finally given Roger an opportunity to shine, and yet here they were, staring down a kidnapping scandal. If Elinor managed to brush it all aside...! “Just because you say it’s not, doesn’t mean it isn’t. Word has it you threw a drink in the face of the Chen family's young daughter at the party. Such reckless behavior won’t end well,” Marianne accused, her eyes sharp. “Dad, this can’t slide. There needs to be respect—Roger’s wife ought to be held accountable too, especially when she acts so irresponsibly!” “Isabella, you seem to be missing the point," Elinor interjected smoothly. "If you want to check on whether or not that woman is actually carrying Roger's child, a simple hospital test will suffice. As for my kidnapping? I almost lost my life that night, and instead of being concerned for me, you’re questioning if I brought this upon myself. If I were so capable of trouble, would I have waited for Roger to rescue me?” Her articulate defense had the room rapt, invoking memories of that chaotic night. “Grandfather, it was an error on my part to resort to violence at the party. But to uphold the dignity of the Carleton name, I had no choice. The Chen family’s daughter was the one who disregarded etiquette, openly critiquing us at our own gathering. If I’ve married into the Carleton family, I have to protect our reputation. Therefore, I don’t believe I erred. But if a penalty is due, I will accept that.” “Penalty?” someone muttered with incredulous laziness. Roger Carleton strolled in, looking like he'd just rolled out of a club, his tie askew, wearing a cloud of whiskey. Elinor couldn’t help but smile inwardly, finally her shield had arrived. As soon as he entered the fray, Gareth's frustration boiled over. “Look at you, what kind of appearance is that?” “What appearance am I wearing? Am I improperly dressed or something?” Roger shot back, purposefully stressing the last few words, inciting an even darker look from his father. “Roger…why are you here? Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” Marianne said, feigning concern. “If I didn’t show up, Isabella here would be in deep trouble, don’t you think?” Roger brushed past her, wrapping an arm around Elinor's waist. “What’s the matter? Trying to throw your weight around, Mother-in-law? You picked her; if you scare her away, you’d better go to Ashford Manor and fetch her back, or else! She’s off-limits to you!” His final words hit hard, like a declaration of war. Gareth went red with anger. “You bastard! I raised you to respect us, not to challenge us!” His hand lifted, ready to strike, but Roger remained unmoved. Then, a commanding voice broke through the tension. “Enough." The elder Carleton’s cane hit the ground with a loud thud. “Do you want to embarrass us in front of the whole city?” As silence enveloped the room, Roger casually stretched his shoulders and tugged at the corners of his lips in a smirk. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be on my way.” His dismissal didn’t sit well with anyone, least of all the elder Carleton, whose expression darkened even more. Yet before he could respond— “Ungrateful brat. You think you can come in here and speak to me like that?”
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