Chapter 4
‘What are they discussing?’
Amabel’s face scrunched in frustration as she lingered outside Alaric’s room, waiting for Cressida to come out—her patience was wearing thin. She tiptoed to the entrance, stretching onto her toes to peep through the lens, but her height betrayed her.
‘Ugh!’
She pressed her body against the door, her ears glued to it as if she could eavesdrop her way inside. But just as she’d found her listening spot, the door swung open, catching her off guard. Her leg slipped out, and she tumbled to the ground.
“Ouch!”
“Oh, my!” Cressida exclaimed, her eyes widening in mock surprise as she stared at Amabel sprawled on the floor. She covered her mouth with her hands for a moment before offering a helping hand.
As Amabel rose to her feet, Cressida bent down, fussing over Amabel’s gown with an unnecessary brush of her hands. When she straightened up, her gaze locked onto Amabel’s, a taunting glint in her eyes.
“What are you doing here, Ma?” She asked, her tone dripping with amusement. She had spotted someone’s presence through the lens and deliberately flung open the door to catch her off guard, aiming to hurt whoever was eavesdropping.
“Hum!” Amabel exclaimed, taken aback by Cressida’s question. She hadn’t expected Cressida to feign innocence, despite the obvious embarrassment on her face.
“I... was…” she stammered, her mind racing for an excuse before one finally surfaced. “I came to fetch you,” she said, trying to sound convincing.
Cressida’s skeptical gaze lingered, and Amabel’s eyes dropped, a soft snicker escaping her lips. “I wasn't eavesdropping,” she claimed, shrugging her left shoulder with a forced smile. “Why would I?”
Cressida’s voice remained cool and detached, her expression unreadable. “You could’ve just knocked. You’ve been standing there for minutes.”
Amabel nodded, realizing she was caught without a leg to stand on. With a swift motion, she wrapped her arm around Cressida’s back, steering her toward the parlor and the hallway beyond.
“Let’s go inside,” she said, shifting the focus.
“This is a small token from me to you,” Amabel said, her voice warm as she held out a box. Cressida turned, her eyes meeting Amabel’s as she walked back to her. “I hope you won’t mind it’s not much. I had it ordered on short notice, not expecting your visit so soon.”
A gentle smile spread across Cressida’s face as she accepted the gift. “Thanks, ma,” she said softly. Amabel encouraged her to open it, and she lifted the lid, revealing a stunning diamond necklace.
“Wow!”
Cressida’s gaze lingered on the necklace, her smile growing wider. “I love it,” she said, her voice filled with admiration. She carefully placed the necklace back in the box and stood up, her arms opening wide as she enveloped Amabel in a warm hug. “Thank you, Ma.”
As she pulled back, her eyes flicked to the box before settling on Amabel’s face. “A diamond isn't just a token. It must be so expensive.” She said, her tone laced with gratitude.
Amabel nodded, beaming with pride. “Yes, it is, but you’re worth more,” she replied, her words sincere. The look on Cressida’s face said it all—she wasn’t just pleased, she was deeply touched. Amabel felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing she was one step closer to achieving her goal.
“I’m happy you like it,” Amabel said, her voice filled with warmth. She gently took Cressida’s hand, guiding her to sit in the armchair as she settled beside her. The two chairs faced each other, positioned near the door with a small glass table between them.
“Cressida…” Amabel called softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Before Cressida could respond, Amabel’s eyes locked onto hers, and she posed a question. “Do you want to be just a daughter-in-law in this household, or my daughter?”
Cressida’s response was immediate, as if she'd been waiting for the question. “Your daughter.” She said without hesitation.
Amabel’s gaze remained steady, her eyes searching for answers. “Why?” She asked, her tone curious. “You’re marrying Alaric. Shouldn’t you be more concerned about being his wife than being my daughter? I’m not his biological mother, after all.”
Cressida shook her head, her response simple yet resolute. “Yes,” she said, determination etched on her face and in her tone. “But Alaric made it clear from the start that I’m just a means to an end for him. He wouldn’t have agreed to the marriage if his interests weren’t at stake,”
Her voice was steady, her words laced with calculation. “Neither of us loves each other, so if I’m his tool, I’ll become his puppet master. I want fame, and you can give me that. So…” Her words trailed off, the implication clear.
Amabel’s eyes widened in admiration as she nodded slowly, a smile spreading across her lips. “Wow... You’re clever,” she said, impressed by Cressida’s strategic thinking. She hadn’t expected someone so young to think steps ahead, but Cressida’s ambition was exactly what she needed.
“That means you’ll dance to my tune, and in return, I’ll empower you.”
Cressida nodded, her voice laced with desperation. “Yes, ma,” she confirmed, her words tumbling out in eagerness. “Don’t worry. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it without hesitation.”
Amabel’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she revealed her plan. “I want you to help take Alaric down,” she stated, pausing briefly, expecting Cressida’s shock or surprise. But Cressida’s expression remained calm, unfazed by the request. “The battle for the presidency of Palmers and Co. is looming, and Alaric’s the only obstacle Felix could face,”
Cressida’s composure didn't waver. She had expected this revelation.
“Alaric’s an illegitimate son, yet he wants the entire inheritance for himself,” Amabel continued, her voice laced with disdain. “He’s desperate and will stop at nothing to defeat Felix—that’s why I need you to help me when the time comes.”
“I–” Cressida opened her mouth to respond, but Amabel interrupted.
“If you’re on my side until Felix takes over, I’ll make you the permanent director of the Palmer fashion collection,” Amabel offered, and Cressida’s eyes widened in delight, her hands covering her mouth as she pretended to be enticed.
“You’ll make me the director?!” She exclaimed.
Amabel nodded, a reassuring smile on her face. “Yes, and the token I gave you is just a small gesture. Felix will compensate you with more. Trust me, you won’t regret this. These offers are just a taste of what you’ll enjoy for the rest of your life. Felix can even make you a major shareholder in the organization.”
Cressida’s face lit up with a fake smile as she wrapped her arms tightly around Amabel. “Thank you, mother,” she gushed, her voice overflowing with feigned excitement. As she pulled back, her eyes met Amabel’s, and she asked, “I hope you’ll let me call you that?”
Amabel’s face broke into a warm grin, her smile genuine. “Of course,” she said, her voice softening. “Daughter.”
~A few days later.
Easton entered, flanked by two maids carrying a wedding dress and a jewelry box. “Good day, ma,” he greeted, bowing slightly as he faced Cressida, and Cressida responded with a nod.
“These are from the young master, ma,” he explained, gesturing to the boxes. “Your wedding dress and jewelry. He said you’d like to check if they suit your taste. If not, another set can be made for you.”
Cressida nodded, understanding, her face lighting up with a smile. “Okay,” she said, pointing to her room. “Take them inside, please.”
“Alaric must be quite the catch,” Linet said, a sly smile spreading across her face. She’d been sitting with Cressida in the sitting room for a while, trying to break the ice, but struggled to find the right words. Despite her efforts to be friendly since they’d chosen the wedding day, Cressida’s constant annoyance had made it tough to start a conversation.
Cressida’s expression turned icy, her eyes narrowing. “Why do you want to know?” She snapped. “Want to know if Havyn can sink her claws into him?”
Her gaze lingered on Linet, her disgust palpable. After a few tense moments, she hissed and turned away, her eyes flashing with annoyance. She stalked towards her room, leaving Linet behind.
Linet’s gaze locked onto Cressida, her teeth clenched in frustration. She fantasized about getting close enough to tear her apart, to slap some sense into her like she used to in the past. But Hollis’s warning echoed in her mind.
“From this moment on, refrain from doing anything that might annoy her, and warn your daughter to do the same.”
—
‘Ugh!’
Cressida slumped onto the bed, exasperated from struggling to squeeze into the dress that didn’t fit quite right. She shed the garment and reached for her phone, dialing Alaric’s number, and he answered it on the first ring.
“Good morning.”
Alaric bypassed the pleasantries. "How’s the dress?” He asked, his voice urgent.
Cressida smiled wryly. “I like it, but the waistline’s a bit off.” She replied.
Alaric’s tone turned commanding. “Get ready. I’ll be there to pick you up soon.” He said, and without waiting for her response, he hung up.
Cressida sighed, her objection dying on her lips. She set the phone aside and packed up the dress.
Alaric’s car parked outside Cressida’s home, and he dialed her number, but she didn’t answer. He tried again, the phone ringing for a few seconds before going to voicemail.
“What’s taking her so long?” He muttered, his annoyance growing. He glanced at Easton through the rearview mirror. “Go get her.” He instructed.
Easton promptly took off the seatbelt, but before he could open the door, Cressida came out with the dressing box in her hand. As she slid into the vehicle, Alaric’s gaze narrowed.
“Why didn’t you answer my call?” He demanded, his voice chilly. Without giving her a chance to respond, he continued, “Isn’t answering each other’s calls promptly part of the agreement you signed up for?”
“Yes, but—” she tried to explain, but he cut her off with a raised brow.
“No excuses will be accepted for breaking the rules. Let’s make this the last time.” He warned, his tone firm.
Cressida’s lips pursed, and she nodded curtly. “Okay,”
“Why are you coming with me to the designer?” She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. “You claimed to be a busy person. Isn’t this a waste of your precious time?”
“It’s not a waste of time,” he replied simply, his gaze fixed ahead. “This marriage is a business, and for it to be profitable, every detail matters. Investing time and effort is crucial. Your fitting is part of effective management. I won’t leave anything to chance.”