Chapter 180: How Does He Have the Nerve to Come Here?
“Mrs. Marigold, Mr. Alaric Junior has arrived with Stellan Storm,” Joe rushed in, his face flustered.
Marigold, already on edge, cursed under her breath. “This woman… she really knows how to stir things up, showing up at my doorstep like this.”
“What should we do, Mrs. Marigold?” Joe asked, his voice laced with concern.
Marigold’s mind raced. “She can’t see me with Caspian. We absolutely can’t allow that. Get Caspian out through the back door and escort him to the Knight family manor.”
“Understood, Mrs. Marigold,” Joe replied, quickly nodding and heading off to carry out the order.
At that very moment, Harry was taking a break at school, preparing to head to the bathroom when Liona and Joe burst in.
“Mr. Knight Junior, there won’t be any classes for now. We need to take you to the Knight family manor.”
Harry frowned, confusion crossing his face. “The Knight family manor? Grandma’s house? I’m not going.”
Liona’s tone was firm, as she lifted him up despite his protests. “You must go, Mr. Knight Junior.”
Harry winced, still in pain from his backside injury, and any attempt to fight back only caused more discomfort. “Is the Knight family bankrupt? Are creditors coming for us? Is that why I’m sneaking out through the back door?”
Liona shook her head, exasperated. “The Knight family isn’t bankrupt. This is Mrs. Marigold’s arrangement. You must return to the Knight family manor.”
Confused but too tired to argue, Harry was quickly placed into a car and whisked away, his thoughts swirling with questions he couldn’t answer.
Back at the Knight family mansion, Marigold sighed heavily after hearing that Harry had been sent off. She gave a sharp order to Joe, “Good. Now, Stellan Storm knows you—stay out of sight. Have a servant send Alaric and Galatea away, saying I’m not available.”
Joe nodded quickly and left to follow her instructions.
Marigold hurried upstairs to her bedroom, locking the door behind her. Her heart was racing. This visit wasn’t part of her plan, and she wasn’t prepared for it.
At the entrance, the servant delivered the message to Alaric and Galatea. “Mr. Alaric Junior, Mrs. Marigold is unwell today and is unable to see anyone.”
Alaric’s anger flared instantly. “She sounded perfectly fine on the phone earlier! How can she suddenly be unwell? My future wife is here, and she’s avoiding meeting her? Where is my mother?”
The servant, clearly nervous, tried to explain. “It’s true, Mr. Alaric Junior. Mrs. Marigold really is unwell. Please, come back another day.”
“This is my house!” Alaric’s frustration was evident as he moved to go upstairs. But the servant blocked his path, fear in his eyes.
Galatea stepped in quickly, her voice soft yet firm. “Alaric, don’t do this. If you force your way in, it’ll only make things worse. Your mother already didn’t want to meet me, and now… well, it’s even more complicated.”
Alaric’s face softened slightly as he looked at Galatea, guilt creeping into his chest. He knew she was right, but his anger at the situation didn’t subside.
“I’m sorry for not telling you earlier,” Galatea said gently. “I should have prepared you better. Could you please explain to Mrs. Marigold for me?” She pulled at Alaric’s arm, trying to calm him. “Shall we go?”
Alaric hesitated, still upset, but then nodded reluctantly. “Wait here.”
Ignoring the servant’s protests, Alaric stormed upstairs, intent on confronting his mother. However, when he reached her door, it was locked.
“Mom! What’s going on?” he shouted, his voice growing sharper. “If you’re really unwell, I’ll leave you alone. But this is important. Galatea is your future daughter-in-law. Don’t you think you should at least meet her?”
Inside the room, Marigold’s voice was sharp with anger. “What do you think you’re doing? Trying to break down the door? I said I’m unwell and resting! Leave me alone!”
Alaric stood at the door, fists clenched. “Mom, if you’re truly unwell, I won’t push. But this is important. Galatea is here—she’s your future daughter-in-law. Isn’t it a bit much to avoid meeting her?”
Marigold’s fury boiled over. “I didn’t say she was my daughter-in-law! You’re assuming too much. And it’s your fault! You show up without warning, and now I’m the one to blame?” Her voice trembled with barely contained anger.
“Fine,” Alaric said, his voice cold. “When you’re feeling better, call me, and I’ll bring her over again.” He turned away, visibly upset, and made his way downstairs.
Galatea was waiting quietly. Alaric’s frustration was palpable as he led her out of the mansion and into the car.
As they drove away, Alaric’s frustration simmered. “Don’t worry, Galatea. My mom… she’s always like this. She does things her way, no matter how others feel.”
Galatea shook her head softly, feeling a weight in her chest. “It’s also my fault. I should have come earlier and not sprung this on her.”
Alaric looked at her, his expression softening. “It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”
Despite his words, Galatea could tell he was still upset. “You’re not feeling well either, so don’t let this get to you.”
Alaric forced a smile. “I’m not angry. No need to worry. And don’t mind my mom’s behavior. With me by your side, you won’t have to care about anyone else.”
“I understand,” Galatea replied, nodding in reassurance. But deep down, she still felt the sting of Marigold’s rejection.
After a moment of silence, Alaric tried to lighten the mood. “Well, since we didn’t get to see my mom, how about we go visit your parents? They might not be alive, but they would have liked to meet me.”
Galatea’s heart ached at the mention of her parents. “Alright,” she said softly. “Let’s go.”
They arrived at the cemetery, and to their surprise, the graves of Barbara and Brennan had fresh flowers placed at them—flowers that were still vibrant and fresh.
Galatea felt a pang in her chest. “Excuse me,” she asked the cemetery caretaker, “Have you seen anyone visit this grave today?”
The caretaker nodded. “Yes, I saw a young man earlier. He was well-dressed, very respectful. He even gave me money, asking me to clean the graves better when no one else was around.”
A young man? Galatea’s heart skipped a beat. “Was he alone?”
“Yes, just him,” the caretaker replied.
A cold shiver ran down Galatea’s spine. Ambrose… how dared he come here?