From the moment she discarded the gun, Emma had silently positioned herself in front of Flora, mentally preparing to sacrifice herself in protection. Without a word, Winky picked up the gun and threw himself out the window.
His figure disappeared into the solid black night, as though he had never appeared. Emma dashed to the window to shut and latch it, finally sighing a breath of relief.
"Miss, that was a daring move! Do you realize my heart was in my throat the entire time?" Emma feigned wiping sweat from her forehead.
"Emma, why do you know martial arts? Also, why do you call me 'Miss'?" Flora asked straightforwardly, with an assured follow-up: "You're not an ordinary housemaid."
Such skills couldn't possibly be attained without years of training. She didn't have the chance to ask while Winky was there.
Now that the immediate danger had passed, she turned her doubtful gaze towards the person beside her.
Emma casually confessed: "I'm indeed a housemaid, but also a bodyguard. I've trained for many years and am one of the best bodyguards, which is why the boss sent me here to protect you."
"You haven't answered my question, why do you call me 'Miss', who is your boss?"
When Emma first arrived that morning, she claimed to be a housemaid hired by Flora's mother. It seems that was a lie.
Flora's mother was just an ordinary woman, how could she afford a bodyguard cum housemaid like this? And the mysterious character Emma called 'boss'.
Who could he be? What's his relation to Flora?
A myriad of questions spun in her head, unanswered.
Faced with Flora's stern interrogative gaze, Emma nervously dodged: "I'm really sleepy... Yawn... Let's talk about it later, Miss..." Pretending to yawn, she then clumsily left the room.
Once out of Flora's bedroom, Emma let out a long sigh of relief. That was a close call, nearly revealing all her secrets.
The next morning, Winky's unannounced "visit" came into the neighbors' view.
Early in the morning, Patrick was insistently ringing the doorbell.
Once he saw Flora, whole and unscathed, he finally let out a sigh of relief. His voice, however, couldn't hide his concern: "Why didn't you call me after such a huge incident last night? No, I must arrange additional security for you! Your mother left you next to my house, how am I supposed to face her if I don't take good care of you?"
"Everything is fine, don't worry..." Flora sighed: "I've been troubling you too much since I moved here."
Patrick frowned, irritated by her clearly drawn boundaries.
"Why would we worry about trouble between us? Your safety is the most important thing. If something like this happens again, you must tell me. Concealing it and having me hear from others is what really worries me."
Having no reason to refute him, Flora could only reluctantly nod: "I understand."
As a regular friend, she was uncomfortable causing him so much trouble.
She was also afraid that her actions might unintentionally give him hope.
Their affair had ended long ago; he shouldn't concern himself so much with her...
"Boss, last night Flora was assaulted, it's highly likely that the perpetrator is someone from the White family, specifically, Selena's bodyguard."
Matthew furrowed his brows: "So, the Whites have finally lost their patience and made their move?" His fingers drummed rhythmically on the desk: "Have someone tail that person and arrange for additional protection for Flora."
His underling nodded, jotted down a few lines in his notebook, and continued: "There's one more thing, it's about... the fetus inside Selena."
Hearing his subordinate mention the fetus inside Selena, Matthew grew slightly pensive.
He had arranged for her to be taken to Andrey for a check-up, logically speaking, there should be results by now.
He slightly lifted his head, his deep black eyes stared directly into his subordinate's eyes, awaiting the report.
"Let me call Dr. Andrey, so he can directly speak with the boss." The call had already been connected, and the timer on the screen displayed a duration close to ten seconds.
Matthew nodded, taking the phone from his underling.
The hesitation in his underling's voice gave him a bad premonition.
Indeed, from the other end of the line came the familiar voice of Andrey, the tone seemed slightly heavy.
"I have good news and bad news.
The good news is that the child inside her is developing very well, both mother and child are healthy.
The bad news is..." Andrey paused: "The child is not yours."
Matthew's voice was grim: "Whose child is it then?"
Andrey seemed a bit surprised at his question, after a few seconds of silence, he suddenly laughed: "Now, whose child would it be inside your wife, how could I possibly know?
This is a question you should ask your wife, or perhaps, ask yourself.
I can sympathize with the feelings of a man being cuckolded, but you must also understand that current medical technology is not advanced enough to trace the origin of the fetus inside your wife."
Matthew's henchmen were quite gossipmongers, so Andrey had known all along that the pregnant woman brought in for the check-up was his new wife.
The proud man, who always looked down on others like Matthew, finally got a taste of his own medicine.
Andrey couldn't help but think it was a fitting retribution.
"Do you believe in karma now? You've toyed with the emotions of countless women, and now someone has played you in return.
This is your retribution."
Andrey's amused demeanor agitated Matthew to the point of rage.
He grunted and hung up the phone.
"Anything else?" He looked at his underling standing before him.
His underling dared not breathe heavily, the icy gaze from Matthew sending chills down his spine, and his voice started to stutter: "Boss, there's one more thing... it's... Ethelbert, he wants to meet you."
"Ethelbert?" He had been quiet recently and Matthew almost forgot about his existence: "Did he specify his intentions?"
Among the gang of brothers they had grown up with, only two were left, sadly they were on opposite sides instead of cooperating.
Whether it was Matthew or Ethelbert, neither hesitated to employ any means to undermine the other.
"He said he has a big business deal and wants to discuss a partnership with us."
"A partnership?" Matthew sneered.
Even without thinking, one would know this proposal couldn't be trusted.
Ethelbert was not the type to sincerely cooperate with others.
And he certainly would not collaborate with a backstabber like him.
He leaned back in his chair: "Ignore him."
Live and let live, if Ethelbert wanted to start something, he would deal with it later.
After leaving Flora's apartment, Winky did not rush back to the White's, but wandered the streets instead.
This city was grand and vast, but he had nowhere to call home.
In recent years, he had held fast to a love for Selena that bordered on the religious.
But today, his resolve wavered.
He could not deny that Flora's words had touched the innermost recesses of his heart.
In certain corners of the city, life only pulsed after dark.
The discordant music and the alcohol-laden air wafting from a bar arrested his steps.
Inside, the furniture was in disarray, no one paid attention to anyone, each one drowning their existential angst in burning spirits.
Winky, too, sought oblivion in the bottle, trying to forget what he wished not to remember.
"Damn it!" The more he drank, the clearer his mind became, forgetting was not as easy as it seemed.
As dawn threatened to break, he decided to abandon the bar.
Staggering home to the White residence, he was met with Selena's displeased gaze the moment he stepped through the door.
"A delicate woman like you living alone really worries people." Patrick roamed around the apartment, checking the locks and furrowing his brows: "Maybe I should move in with you? It would be convenient to take care of you, and it would give me peace of mind."
Flora was drinking water, nearly choking on his words.
She glared at Patrick: "This isn't a joking matter."
"I'm not joking." Patrick laughed.
A dagger-like look was thrown at Patrick by Emma.
Leaning against the door with her arms crossed, the young woman scoffed: "Uncle, do you think I am invisible? Whether she lives alone or not, I'm still in the house.
Don't dream about things you shouldn't think about."
"Little girl, what can you even do?" It wasn't that Patrick was belittling others, he genuinely didn't trust Flora's safety to a girl who seemed barely of age.
Emma flushed, hands on her hips: "Uncle, are you belittling children? If it weren't for this child last night, the lady might not have seen the sun today."
Looking at the bleak sky outside, Flora smiled faintly: "I haven't seen the sun since morning..."
"Miss..." Emma drawled: "You're teasing me... In short, I absolutely do not want that annoying uncle to move into our house."
In fact, Patrick was of a suitable age, handsome and elegant.
But in Emma's eyes, he was no different than those disgruntled old men wandering the streets.
While Patrick went elsewhere to check, Flora sighed and whispered: "Emma, next time he comes, help me block him, okay?" She didn't want to bother Patrick anymore.
Emma ruffled her short, messy hair: "Of course, you can trust me."
Her demeanor, however, was not quite trustworthy.
The door opened from the outside, causing a not inconsiderable noise.
Drunk people often can't control their strength, a simple journey from the gate to the house can cause a commotion.
Selena yawned lazily, then finally rose from the sofa.
Without a word, she walked straight up to Winky, raising her hand.
"Slap!" A crisp sound echoed, the strength behind the slap instantly imprinted a red handprint on Winky's face.
His swaying body stiffened, his hand slowly reached up, touching the burning cheek.
He tilted his head, looking at the pregnant woman in front of him, as if trying to comprehend what was happening.
"Still got the gall to look at me with those dog eyes of yours?" Selena raised her voice: "I told you to deal with that disgusting woman, what the hell have you been doing? Are you ignoring what I say?"
The burning pain on his face was nothing compared to the bitterness in his heart.
Winky chuckled self-deprecatingly, he should have seen it all clearly long before.
In the arteries of Selena flowed the imperishable blood of the Whites, vile, haughty, and self-centered, and despotic.
Even though she carried his flesh and bone within her, in her eyes, Winky was but a mere dog, no more, no less.
He gently shook his head: "I cannot.
Miss, there is a formidable bodyguard alongside Flora.
I... cannot best him."
Unable to fight, and he possessed not a shred of a fighting spirit.