Chapter 10: Scheming

Beatrice turned in the direction Alexander was looking, disgust etched across her face. She stiffened when she saw what Winnie was doing to a male servant—smooching him all over and touching him wantonly.

Snapping back to her senses, Beatrice sprang to her feet. She yanked Winnie away and shouted at the male servants, “All of you, get out! Scram—and go get the doctor!”

Alexander was already furious with Beatrice and out of patience with the mother and daughter. Seeing Winnie’s brazen display was the last straw; he was livid. He got up and walked away without asking a single question.

Alicia, meanwhile, watched the unfolding spectacle like it was a show. She folded her arms and observed as Beatrice struggled to restrain her daughter.

“I want to be fucked—fuck me hard, I’m soaking wet!” Winnie screamed at the top of her lungs.

Beatrice’s face went pale. She glanced upward, praying Alexander hadn’t heard that. She quickly clamped a hand over Winnie’s mouth—only to be bitten.

“Argh!” she cried out in pain. That was when the doctor and several maids arrived. They pinned Winnie down, administered an injection, and she fell asleep before being carried away.

Beatrice spun toward Alicia, shock and fear warring on her face. Pointing a trembling finger, she accused, “What did you do to my daughter?”

Alicia didn’t bother defending herself. Calmly, she said, “Shall we check the CCTV?”

Beatrice gritted her teeth in hatred, but there was nothing she could do. She stormed off. Alicia headed silently to her room, her expression turning cold as she remembered the male servant who had handed her the drink.

She pulled out her laptop and got to work, hacking into the surveillance system to monitor the servant. When he entered his room, Alicia scrambled the recording, turning it to static, then stepped out of her room.

Inside his quarters, the male servant began counting the cash Beatrice and Winnie had paid him. He grinned from ear to ear, giddy with excitement.

“You’ve made quite a haul,” a voice said behind him.

He jolted, scattering bills across the floor. Spinning around, he went pale at the sight of Alicia standing there.

He was certain he’d locked the door. How had she gotten in without him noticing? Suspicion flared. “How did you get in here?” he asked.

Alicia smiled—a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

He pulled himself together and bowed slightly, trying to regain composure. “Miss, I’m sorry. How may I help you?”

Alicia wasn’t in the mood for games. She jabbed two fingers into several points on his body. He froze, immobilized, unable to move so much as a finger.

Terror flooded his eyes. He tried to speak, to scream, but no sound came out. Sweat beaded on his brow.

Alicia’s grin turned cold as she slid a knife into view. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing.

She crouched, gathered the scattered bills, and left the room without another word.

She returned to her room and was on her bed, typing on her computer, when a heavy knock sounded at the door. She frowned, hid the laptop, and said, “Come in.”

The door creaked open and Beatrice charged in, fury written across her face, still smarting from her failed plan. Trailing behind her was the ambushed male servant, too afraid to even look at Alicia.

“Catherine,” Beatrice asked coldly, “what did the servant do to you that you nearly killed him?”

Alicia, looking bored, replied, “Check the CCTV. I don’t even know who he is.”

Beatrice, about to launch into another scolding, choked on her words. Gritting her teeth, she threatened, “If I check and confirm you’re the one who almost killed this servant, I’ll make sure your father hears of it.”

She left with the servant and didn’t return.

When it was time for dinner, a maid came to inform her, “Miss, dinner is ready.”

Alicia rose to her feet, descended the staircase, and walked to the dining table. Beatrice and Winnie fixed her with cold, hateful stares.

Unruffled, Alicia moved with laid-back nonchalance and took the seat beside Alexander. “Dad.”

Alexander’s face lit up. He looked at her and said, “My daughter.”

Winnie stared at Alicia with simmering hatred. Ever since Alicia returned, her father, Alexander, barely spared Winnie a glance. Her fingers tightened around her fork.

“Alex, dear,” Beatrice began lightly, “since Winnie will be starting at the company, why don’t we have Catherine work there as well? I wouldn’t want bored socialites to gossip that you favored Winnie over Catherine. You know how they get when they’ve run out of money to count.”

Alexander frowned, considering, then turned to Alicia. “Cathy, what do you think about working at the company?”

“It’s fine,” Alicia said.

At her calm reply, Alexander’s expression cooled as he looked at Winnie, remembering how she’d reacted as if being sent to the slaughterhouse.

Winnie’s humiliation burned hotter. The fork dug into her palm.

Beatrice jumped in quickly. “I was thinking we could make her a manager at a small, inconsequential branch. That way she won’t feel pressured or be criticized—and, well, she doesn’t have the academic background to stand shoulder to shoulder with Winnie.”

Alexander glanced back at Alicia for her opinion. Beatrice ground her teeth; she despised how he always sought Alicia’s consent before making a decision. The resentment curdled in her chest.

“What do you think, Cathy dear?” Alexander asked with a smile.

Alicia’s answering smile turned sharp. She knew exactly which branch Beatrice had in mind—the one where the last manager had provoked a local street boss who’d since scared off the staff and put the former manager in the hospital.

Beatrice flinched under Alicia’s gaze, as if her intentions had been laid bare.

“All right,” Alicia said, her tone playful. “That works.”