Chapter 3

Rosalie had deliberately concealed it from me, so I had no idea she was going to attend a parent-teacher conference.

I could still vividly remember how excited she had sounded that day. But it turned out that, deep down, she had already convinced herself that I was lying and that I was actually jealous of a child.

"Mr. Kastel! Mr. Kastel, wake up!"

A pair of huge hands shook me hard. My mind felt like absolute sludge—scrambled and heavy—as I fought to open my eyes.

Edward's figure appeared before me.

Seeing me open my eyes, he let out a breath of relief and patted his chest. "Thank goodness nothing happened."

Then he proceeded to complain, "Mr. Kastel, you gave me a fright!"

When I looked down, a patch of crimson red filled my vision.

Edward followed my gaze. When he saw what it was, he pinched his nose and said with disgust, "Mr. Kastel, why did you knock over the paint bucket the workers left by the door? The stench is so pungent.

"You're supposed to be the man of the house, yet you don't know how to take care of it at all. All you do is make things difficult for us!"

In a daze, I looked toward the corner, where an overturned red paint bucket lay on the ground. I must have accidentally knocked it over with my hand just now.

The basement was pitch-black since Edward was blocking the light from the doorway.

A sudden realization seemed to wash over him as he said, "Ms. Smith was right after all. You deliberately knocked over the paint bucket so that I would see the paint and think something happened to you. Then, I'd call Ms. Smith and make her return home.

"Luckily, she didn't fall for your trick! Otherwise, you would've ruined Mr. Logan's birthday celebration with his whole family!"

I glared at Edward fiercely. The pain was so intense that it was difficult for me even to say much.

Startled by my gaze, Edward turned and hurried off to find a mop to clean up the mess. In his haste, he forgot to close the basement door.

The stairs leading out of the basement were winding and narrow, but I didn't have time to second-guess anything. If I didn't save myself now, I'd die down here.

Taking a few deep breaths, I steadied myself against the wall and forced myself up. Then, step by step, I made my way outside.

I'd never known these stairs to feel this long. On top of that, my stomach was cramping so badly that every single step felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

Rosalie had confiscated my phone, so my only option was to get out of the villa and seek help outside.

By the time I reached the main road, my strength was completely drained. I collapsed helplessly onto the ground.

Some people who were out for an after-dinner stroll quickly gathered around me. Someone screamed in fright and immediately dialed 911.

Thomas Ballard, Rosalie's business partner, recognized me. Shocked, he said, "Mr. Kastel! How did you end up here like this? Was your house robbed? I'll call Ms. Smith right now!"

…

"Mr. Ballard?" Rosalie answered the call with a confused expression.

Thomas immediately said, "Ms. Smith, your home was broken into! Your husband is lying on the road covered in blood! We've already called emergency services. You need to head to Franklin Hospital right now!"

When she heard the commotion on the other end of the phone, Rosalie frowned and instinctively stood up.

However, a hand grabbed her wrist at that moment. With a troubled expression, Caleb raised his phone toward her, saying, "Rosie, take a look at what Edward said."

Rosalie's eyes narrowed upon seeing the chat messages, and her expression darkened. She spat out furiously, "Mr. Ballard, you've misunderstood. No one broke into our house. What's on my husband is red paint, which he poured on himself because he was upset with me.

"Please cancel the ambulance. I've already called our family doctor, who will be there soon."