The night is hard to conceal, dusk shyly coy.
The young girl pressed her lips, her face flushed pink. She bit down and said irritably, "If you're going to the bathroom, why not just take off your pants."
"..." Charles gave a silent chuckle before unbuckling his pants.
After this incident, Rosie felt like something exploded in her brain, her actions uncontrollable; she trembled all over, spun around, and fled out the door.
Charles watched her fleeting figure and couldn't help but laugh out loud.
The art of scheming requires caution when the skill is insufficient.
The bathroom lights were pale white, and the shadow of a man with a straight posture reflected on the floor. As he undressed piece by piece and stepped one foot into the bath, footsteps sounded behind him.
The man frowned, then leaped into the air. Water splashes rose half a meter as Rosie barged in. Before entering, she turned off the bathroom lights, then chuckled mischievously twice: "Surprised, Charles? How could your sister back out? Today, you're definitely getting this bath!"
The bathroom suddenly darkened. Once the eyes adjusted to the darkness, only the faint moonlight outside made things visible.
The man's cold face showed a hint of helplessness as he watched Rosie stumble around with sunglasses on, arms stretched out as if blind, crossing mountains and rivers before finally reaching the wheelchair.
"Eh, where's the person?"
"Since you turned off the lights, why are you wearing sunglasses?" Charles's voice was colder than usual, like a wind blowing over a glacier, carrying cold water molecules, making Rosie's hair stand on end.
She followed the direction of the man's voice, and for some reason, hearing his cold tone filled her with excitement.
"Honey misunderstood; I'm protecting your privacy. Turning off the lights, but there's still moonlight. What if I peeked at your body under the moonlight..."
"Can't see, but can touch?"
Rosie walked to the edge of the bath, stepping on Charles's discarded clothes, unable to think of a retort. She decided to give up: "Stop talking, I'm washing you, your clothes are already off anyway."
Now like meat on a chopping board, at anyone's mercy.
"...."
The girl moved her steps, stepped on Charles's thrown-off trousers, the fabric smooth without friction on the wet floor; Rosie slipped and fell into the bath.
Crow's curse came true, a couple's bath.
The sunglasses fell into the water, and the girl landed horizontally on the man's waist, Charles's face cooler than the moon's silver glow. His eyes glared at her coldly, frosty as ice.
"If Rosie finds life too dull, I don't mind giving you something to do."
Water droplets slid slowly along the man's handsome cheeks, a cold austerity revealing faint hostility. Rosie could even feel his body tense up; it was her first time seeing him up so close. Her hand clung to his shoulder, the firm muscles not at all like those a frail cripple would have.
"Fine and firm." The girl's eyes shone with excitement, her delicate hand sliding over the man's chest, but before she could enjoy the feel, her wrist was grabbed. His hand like a vice, clutching as if to crush her bones.
"It hurts...ouch, I was wrong. Really wrong, honey, please let go, it's going to break."
Her soft and submissive demeanor did nothing to Charles, only made him pinch her chin harder, a sinister sentence: "Get out now, or spend a lifetime locked in this bathroom."
His gaze was too menacing, scaring Rosie speechless; she wanted to leave, but her hand couldn't break free.
"Honey wants me to leave, but won't let go. Isn't that insincere?" The girl timidly raised her eyes multiple times, sneaking glances at the man's expression.
"Get out!" Charles released her, making the girl tumble off him.
Rosie walked out, dripping wet. When she reached the bathroom door, she turned on the light, her vision suddenly clear. Only then did she see the girl's expression; her eye tails upward, her happiness barely contained, lips pressed, hiding a smile: "I'll pack my bags now and get out of Anderson Castle."
Her clothes were soaked through, the white short tee slightly transparent, even revealing the lingerie beneath.
Charles turned his head to avoid looking at her, tossed a towel over to cover her head, the man's threatening voice in her ear: "In Ael, it's easy for me to eliminate a Scott Clan member. Weigh your options carefully, whether to stay or go."
Rosie pulled the towel off her head, her smile fading from her face, her big fox-like eyes revealing undisguised anger, her slender arms tense with slight tremors.
"Mr. Anderson finally willing to take off this hypocritical mask, can't usually see it."
The man leisurely leaned against the bathtub, his eyebrows colorless, not looking at her, fingers lightly placed on the tub's edge. Clearly disabled, yet exuding a noble and aloof demeanor that inspires awe.
His speech slow, yet the words exuded intimidation: "Rosie, life is long; you'll need to adapt."
The girl locked her cherry lips tight, and as she turned to leave, her gaze fixated on the light switch, a surge of anger blocked her chest, hand uncontrolled slapped it off.
"Mr. Anderson take your time with the bath, wash clean."
"..." The man looked at the pitch-black bathroom, then closed his eyes and chuckled lightly: "Childish."
Night like ink, dotted with stars, the moon also ascended halfway. Rosie locked the room door, placed a glass on the doorknob, and blocked the door with the vanity.
After completing everything, she stood with hands on hips, satisfied with her handiwork: "I don't believe any thief could get in like this."
Rosie wanted to call her father; since arriving at Anderson Castle, she hadn't reported in.
The girl pushed open the balcony glass, nestled in the rocking chair, took out her phone, hesitated momentarily, but still dialed.
"Hey, Dad, are you asleep?"
"I'm fine, I'm quite used to it here. No, no, don't you know your daughter? She's not so easily bullied."
"By the way, Dad, has my uncle visited you lately?" Rosie had always been wary of her uncle's family, remembering the previous lifetime's harm, determined not to repeat the mistakes this time.
Mr. Scott hesitated, why did the girl suddenly ask such a question?
"Your uncle only brought a contract today, wants to open an entertainment company. I thought, eventually, you're going into the entertainment industry, such a messed-up circle. Dad's operating an entertainment company, your future path would be easier, so agreed to invest."
"Did you sign a contract?" Rosie immediately stood after hearing, worried about her father, who, like last time, signed whatever contract uncle presented with eyes closed.
"Not yet, I have some work, will prepare to sign later at home."
"Dad, I don't like Uncle's family, why do you insist on associating with them?"
"Rosie, I know you're still bothered by what happened back then, but you need to know it has nothing to do with your uncle."
"Mother's death I've never blamed on Uncle, I blame Isabella Scott, her desertion led to mom's excessive bleeding and dying." The girl clutched her phone tightly, suppressing her anger; she never blamed Uncle for the incident, but even so, she couldn't face Uncle with a clear conscience.
In the previous life, living abroad with dad under harsh conditions was all caused by Uncle.
Thinking of the previous life's trials, Rosie's eyes grew moist, but she adjusted her emotions.
"Dad, I had a dream, dreaming Uncle moved all our family assets, you and I flee abroad, penniless, you haul goods at the dock daily, enduring verbal abuse when claiming wages."
"I know you might not believe it."
The girl's voice grew increasingly hoarse.
"Uncle's family is incredibly cunning, could you keep away from them?"