At Rosehill Estate,
Today was the 80th birthday celebration of Edward Hart of the Hart family, so the atmosphere was lively and warm. Guests and members of the Hart family mingled and conversed, the mood could be described as harmonious.
Suddenly, a shrill scream shattered the cozy air.
"Damn it, you bastard! Are you blind?"
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
Scarlett Hart glared furiously at her metallic-sheen stiletto heels, now soaked and sticky from spilled orange juice, the damp, clammy sensation driving her mad.
Worse still, shards of glass littered the floor, sprayed everywhere, only fueling her irritation.
Her sharp gaze locked on the figure before her, one hand on her hip as she snapped,
"Do you even know how much these shoes cost?"
"You couldn't afford them even if you worked your whole life."
Scarlett's eyes widened in a threatening glare, making Alexander Knight shrink back timidly.
"I'm so sorry… So sorry," he stammered.
"I didn't mean to."
Alexander hunched his shoulders, retreating into a corner, barely daring to breathe. He could feel the weight of countless eyes on him.
Whispers rippled through the crowd, curious glances cast his way, yet no one say anything.
Emboldened, Scarlett's arrogance only grew. With a mocking sneer, she said,
"Sorry doesn't fix anything. Get down on your knees and apologize."
When Alexander only stood there, his expression blank with shock, she ridiculed him further.
"What are you standing there for? Taken root already?"
A sharp, icy voice rang out clearly in the crowded banquet hall.
"Kneel down and apologize to me. If not, then get out of here."
Scarlett spoke venomously, tilting her chin with arrogant disdain.
Alexander, frail and timid, stood in a corner.
Just as he was about to shut his eyes and kneel in order to smooth things over,
a female voice,
clear yet no less cold,
suddenly cut through the air.
"What's with all the noise? Do you even realize what day today is?"
The click of sharp heels echoed rhythmically against the marble floor as Isabella Hart slowly reprimanded Scarlett. Scarlett only cast her a dismissive glance and smirked.
"What of it?"
"Do you know, he spilled orange juice all over my patent leather Christian Louboutin heels."
"They're even encrusted with crystals, crystals, do you understand?" Scarlett boasted.
"And what's more, they cost fifty thousand dollars. That's about as much as your penniless fiancé could slave away for in his entire life."
"Am I not even allowed to scold him?"
Her shrill voice carried sharply through the air, making Isabella frown unconsciously. She tilted her head toward the mess on the floor, her beautiful face clouded with irritation.
"You again. What on earth are you doing?"
"Didn't I already tell you to be careful today? And yet you can't even manage something this trivial?"
Isabella's voice was loud, making Alexander tremble involuntarily, his lips pressed tight, unable to speak.
Naturally, Isabella had no intention of defending him, she only found the whole matter disgraceful. With a casual sneer, she said,
"Didn't you hear what Scarlett said? Get down on your knees and apologize!"
Isabella rubbed her temples in impatience, her voice cold as she reminded him,
"After that, go into the kitchen to help the servants."
"Truly, leave you idle for a moment and you'll cause trouble!"
With her arms folded, Isabella stood watching, leaving Alexander in utter despair. The crowd murmured in low voices, their gazes upon him filled with contempt, mingled with a trace of pity.
His fists clenched so tightly the knuckles turned white, yet he endured, forcing himself to kneel.
His knees struck the floor with a sharp crack,
the icy chill seeping into his very bones.
His voice trembled, weary and frail.
"I… I'm sorry."
Isabella, embarrassed and displeased, pursed her lips and shot him a cold glare for disgracing her. But the corners of Scarlett's mouth curved in smug satisfaction. With a wave of her hand, she feigned generosity.
"Fine then, you didn't mean it."
"Go back to the kitchen and get to work. I'll forgive you this time."
Alexander glanced at Isabella, only to meet a look of disgust in return. In that moment, his last hope in her completely withered.
Confused and humiliated, he turned away and returned to the kitchen.
The servants of the household were not surprised to see Alexander helping out; in fact, some even avoided him or treated him with disdain. After all, they all knew that, compared to the servants, Alexander's status in the house was even lower.
Nothing more than a useless man.
Exhausted, Alexander kept himself busy until dinner, yet still was not allowed a seat at the table. While the entire Hart family greeted the guests with confidence and poise, inviting them to dine, Alexander remained weary, serving everyone.
"Alex, this bowl is ugly. I want the pink porcelain one."
Scarlett drawled lazily, ordering him about.
Alexander had just sat down, not even taking a single bite, when he was forced to stand again. He fetched the pink bowl as Scarlett demanded and handed it to her.
"Alex, I dropped my chopsticks. Get me another pair."
"Alex, bring me a glass too. I want wine."
This time it was Scarlett's fiancé, Barrett. Alexander complied with each request.
And those around them, none came to his defense.
And even by the time the banquet ended, when he returned home with Isabella, he was still starving, having eaten only two small pieces of bread.
Isabella showed no concern. The moment they arrived, she turned to head upstairs to rest. Alexander quickly called after her.
"Isa…"
Annoyed, Isabella spun around and snapped,
"What now?"
Her face was weary and full of irritation, making Alexander flinch instinctively. He was afraid, yet still forced himself to speak.
"Tomorrow is your birthday. I've reserved a table at the Universe Restaurant."
"Please come tomorrow… at 7 p.m."
Hearing this, Isabella narrowed her eyes in displeasure. Still, she gave a reply.
"Fine, I know."
Neither an outright refusal nor an agreement, but Alexander was nonetheless overjoyed. To him, it meant she would come.
That small assurance was enough to comfort him after enduring the day's humiliation. He returned to his own room, bathed, and went to sleep with a trace of happiness.