Chapter 1739:


    She was afraid the Martels would turn on Christina, and she couldn’t bear the thought of her protector being humiliated because of her.


    Christina let out a short, dryugh. “Trust me. If they want to get ugly about it, I’ll make sure they’re the ones who end up looking pathetic — not us.”


    “Miss Jones…” Gillian tried again, but Christina was already steering her toward the door, closing the matter.


    “Listen to me. Stop worrying. Tomorrow, after breakfast, I’m taking you there myself. As long as you’re with me, I promise no one is going to touch you or say a single word to intimidate you.”


    Before Gillian could get another word in, she found herself ushered out into the hallway. She turned to say something more, but the door was already clicking shut behind her. From inside the room, Christina’s voice drifted through.


    “Goodnight! See you in the morning!”


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    Gillian stood there for a moment, caught between amusement and a deep, quiet warmth at how effortlessly Christina had ended the conversation.


    “Thank you,” she whispered to the closed door.


    She made a silent promise to herself never to forget this kindness — she would stand by Christina for the rest of her life if it came to that. Even so, the thought of facing the Martel family in the morning tied her stomach in knots, and she tossed and turned for a long while before sleep finally found her.


    The next morning, the moment breakfast was done, Christina was on her feet and moving — heading for the door with Gillian close behind her. She even insisted that Gillian bring little Adide along.


    She wanted to see whether the Martels would actually have the nerve to refuse, especially knowing that Alban had wronged a struggling single mother. She understood perfectly well that pushing for marriage was never going to be realistic — not unless Alban were deeply in love and willing to go to war with his entire family over it. That was a fantasy. The fact that he had vanished without offering so much as a word, let alone a cent, told her everything she needed to know about his character.


    The Rolls-Royce Phantom rolled to a stop in front of the Martel estate.


    “Miss Jones, could I… Could I just wait in the car? Maybe we really should drop the whole thing,” Gillian said, clutching Adide tightly against her, her voice unsteady.


    “Don’t lose your nerve now. We’re going in,” Christina said.


    They hadn’te all this way to turn around. The Martel family was going to be held ountable, one way or another. Did Alban honestly think he could walk away from this without consequence? Not while Christina had anything to say about it.


    If the Martels had any sense of dignity at all, they would know better than to try to sweep this under the rug. Paying to make the scandal disappear quietly was far preferable to the alternative — and Christina was counting on them to be smart enough to see that.


    Seeing the resolve in Christina’s eyes, Gillian understood there was no avoiding this any longer. The confrontation was happening, whether she was ready for it or not.


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