Chapter 11: Chapter 11

496 words

<html><head></head><body>Evelyn didn’t speak. She simply took Margaret’s hand and walked away. Alexander watched them go, his expression shifting from warmth to ice in an instant. It had been years since he’d personally handled such matters, but this time, he couldn’t stand aside. How dare Walter and Beverly mistreat Evelyn? They had a death wish. His bodyguards formed a tight circle, shielding the scene from curious onlookers. Alexander’s gaze was sharp, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You locked her in a cellar and starved her?" "W-We didn’t have space at home! The cellar was warm!" Walter stammered. "Exactly! We were struggling back then—barely had food for ourselves!" Beverly added hastily. Alexander wasn’t fooled. Without hesitation, he struck. Within moments, Walter and Beverly could no longer speak. Blood dripped from their split lips, teeth missing. Regret flooded their faces—this man wasn’t just some wealthy playboy. He was ruthless. Flexing his knuckles, Alexander ordered coldly, "Get them out of here. I don’t want Evelyn to see them." What if the sight of their battered faces frightened his gentle sister? He had to maintain his kind, protective image. Turning back toward the restaurant, his demeanor softened instantly when he spotted Evelyn. "Order anything you want."  Evelyn glanced toward the lobby. "Where are they?" "I had a… productive conversation with them. They left, likely out of shame," Alexander replied smoothly. A flicker of doubt crossed Evelyn’s face. Since when were Walter and Beverly so easily persuaded? Alexander discreetly wiped a smear of blood from his fingers with a napkin. "If they ever bother you again, call me." Evelyn hesitated, then flipped through the menu. Her eyes widened at the prices. "Are you rich?" Caught off guard, Alexander recalled his wife’s advice. Time to play the humble card. "Not at all," he said firmly.  "But you offered them a hundred million?" "Just a joke." "This place is expensive, though." "I used to work here. Employee discount." Margaret raised a brow. "And the helicopter? The bodyguards?" "Rented the chopper. Hired the men for the day." He pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to the nearest bodyguard. "Your payment."  The man hesitated, confused. Alexander gave him a look. Take it. The bodyguard pocketed the money and hurried off. Evelyn blinked. "So… all that was just for show?" Alexander grinned. "First impressions matter." Seeing her relax, he knew he’d made the right choice. From now on, he was poor. Margaret leaned in. "What do you do for a living?"  Alexander paused. He couldn’t say real estate tycoon, but lying outright felt wrong. "My company sells properties." Technically true—he just omitted that he owned the company. Margaret nodded. "Ah, a real estate agent. Honestly, Evelyn doesn’t care about status. You didn’t need this charade." Evelyn agreed. "Money doesn’t matter to me." Rich families came with too much drama. She preferred simplicity. Alexander smiled. "Then I won’t do it again." Evelyn tilted her head. "What about my other brothers? What do they do?"  </body></html>