Gemma’s POV
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Seeing their anger deflate, I feel a flicker of something akin to pity. They’re not villains; they’re just panicked parents who raised a fool. “Emma, get two glasses of water for our guests,” I instruct. I gesture toward the living room. “Have a seat. Have a drink of water and relax.”
They mumble their thanks, the earlier fury replaced by a bewildered shuffle as they move to the couch. The room falls into a heavy, waiting silence.
It doesn’t take long for the fool himself to arrive. Rhett bursts through the door like a man possessed, his eyes wild. The moment they land on me, they ignite with misplaced rage. He charges straight toward me, his body coiled for a fight.
“Gemma, I said I’d pay you back today. What gives you the right to call my mom and dad?” he snarls, his hand lifting in a threatening gesture.
He doesn’t get within a foot of me. Cassian moves with a speed that surprises even me, shoving Rhett back with a force that sends him stumbling. He plants himself as a solid, immovable wall in front of me, his expression glacial,
“Rhett, this is my house,” he says, his voice dangerously quiet. “Gemma is my wife!”
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< Chapter 291
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Rhett glares at him, the years of friendship seeming to evaporate in the heat of his humiliation.
I step slightly to the side, meeting Rhett’s furious gaze with
a coolly raised eyebrow. “How did you know it was me who called?” I ask, genuinely curious about the workings of his mind,
“Who else could it be but you?” he spits back, so sure of his own
narrative,
“Rhett, it wasn’t Mrs. Blackwell who called us!” Hubert interjects from the couch, his voice firm with dawning realization and disappointment. “Come and sit down!” He looks at his son, and I see the painful understanding dawn on his face. “Did you forget that house still has our contact info? They messaged us when you sold the house!”
The revelation hits Rhett like a physical blow. He freezes completely, his aggressive posture collapsing into stunned inertia. He forgot about it. Of course he did. He was too busy playing the gallant knight for his treacherous damsel to think about practical consequences.
I cross my arms over my chest, looking at the frozen, foolish man. A cold sneer forms on my lips. No wonder Reyna doesn’t like him, I think, the assessment as brutal as it is accurate. No one likes a man who’s anything but stupid.
Hubert’s voice cuts through the tension, thick with a father’s
anger and shame. “Tell me why you sold that house!”
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Rhett just stands there, caught, exposed, and utterly defeated, the full weight of his empty, costly gesture finally crushing him into silence.
Rhett looks like a trapped animal, his eyes darting around for an escape route he knows doesn’t exist. He wants to hide the truth, to bury his foolishness in silence. But I have no intention of letting him.
“He’s probably doing it for his favorite girl!” I announce, my voice bright with false cheer, slicing through the tense silence.
“Gemma!” Rhett snarls, his glare a promise of retribution.
I meet his gaze with a bland smile. He can scold me, can’t I even open my mouth in return?
He started this by storming into my home; he doesn’t get to control the story now.
“Favorite girl?“”
Hubert’s voice booms, the words laced with a fury that makes the air vibrate. His face is flushed an alarming red. “Rhett, explain it!” He’s panting, one hand pressed to his chest, and for a moment, I feel a flicker of concern for his health.
Elisa rushes to his side, her face pale with worry. “Hubert, take
it easy.” She turns her frantic gaze to her son. “Rhett, are you going to kill us off before you’re satisfied? That house was left to you by your grandmother. That’s all that’s left of her, and you sold it. Why are you so short of money?”
Rhett looks utterly helpless, caught between his parents‘ devastation and his own stubborn pride. “Dad, Mom, I’ll make the money to buy that house back later,” he pleads, the promise sounding as flimsy as tissue paper.
I decide to help the truth along. “You just left Blackwell Industries and you’re still in the startup phase, right?” I ask, my tone dripping with feigned sympathy. “It’s not easy for you to buy a house that costs tens of millions of dollars, is it? And with the low prices right now, there are tons of people waiting to buy a house in the north of the city.” I let the implication hang—that the house is as good as gone forever.
“What?” Elisa shrieks, her composure shattering. “Did you resign from Blackwell Industries? Are you crazy?”
Cassian shoots me a glance, a silent warning in his eyes, but he says nothing. He knows I’m not lying, only expediting the inevitable.
Rhett still clings to his secret, his jaw clenched tight. But fate, it seems, has other plans. The doorbell chimes again, a sharp, intrusive sound.
Emma opens the door, and there she stands. Reyna. Dressed in
a flimsy, calculated little dress, her eyes wide with manufactured
concern.
“Cassian,” she begins, her voice a breathy tremor, “I’m here to look for Rhett. He didn’t come home, and I’m a little worried about him. Is he here with you?”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. The heroine is here! This scene is getting better.
Reyna finishes her performance and finally spots Rhett standing in the center of the living room, the picture of defeat. She starts to move toward him, but then her gaze collides with the thunderous expressions of his parents. Her steps falter, her legs trembling with a fear that is, for once, completely genuine.
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