Chapter <b>218 </b>
Dawson, the butler, stood silently outside the bedroom door and closed it <b>gently</b>, shutting out every sound from inside.
“What’s wrong, Dawson?” York asked.
Dawson raised a finger to his lips in a hush gesture, ncing at the tightly locked door. York took onest look, then led Rex away.
Inside, the air was thick with tension.
Scott’s voice was cold and sharp. “I can’t believe I, of all people, could make such a mistake–bringing you back, when you turned out to be so utterly useless!”
If he hadn’t worried that a messy public reunion would tank thepany’s stock, and if Ileana hadn’t always seemed more pliable and easy to manage than Alessia, with a temperament better suited for a marriage alliance–he never would have thrown away a real diamond in exchange for a cheap imitation.
“Tomorrow–no, tonight! Tonight you’ll pack your things and get on the first ne out of the country. I don’t want to see you again until you’re old enough for the marriage we arranged. That’s all you’re good for–your greatest contribution to the Tate family. If you care about keeping any of this luxury, you’ll do exactly as you’re told. Alessia isn’t even a Tate anymore and she’s still thriving. If you think you can do better, go ahead and try.”
Ileana wanted to protest–she didn’t want to be sent abroad. She barely spoke a word of any othernguage, and with her swollen, aching cheek, she couldn’t even argue back. Not that she dared to.
Today had made one thing painfully clear: if she ever lost the Tate name, her life would fall apart.
If that was the case, maybe going overseas wasn’t so bad. At least there, she could still hold her head high as Miss Tate, without anyone controlling her.
Having made up her mind<b>, </b>Ileana didn’t resist Scott’s orders. That very night, she left for a foreign country. Unlike the grand estate where <b>Max </b>and York lived, her new home was just a modest house in a suburban neighborhood–nothing close <b>to </b>the Tate family’s mansion.
<i>Still</i>, Sp
Scott hadn’t been entirely heartless; he’d arranged for a butler and two maids.
She arrived with a mask and hat, covering her face as best she could, terrified someone might see what she’d been through. The front door was locked tight. She
<b>1/2 </b>
<b>rang </b>the bell over and over, but no one answered<b>, </b>Even her calls to <b>the </b><b>house’s </b>butler went unanswered. Frustrated and exhausted, all <b>she </b><b>could </b><b>do </b>was keep pressing the buzzer.
She was too tired to even curse under her breath. Dawn was breaking, <b>and </b>all she wanted was a bed.
After half an hour, the door finally opened. A white–haired, blue–eyed butler in a crisp tailcoat stood in the doorway.
He didn’t apologize or even reach for her luggage. Annoyed, Ileana shoved her suitcase in his direction, making her expectations clear.
The butler simply stepped back, hands sped behind his back, his point equally obvious.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Ileana snapped, but the pain in her jaw forced her to shut her mouth, and she could only re in frustration.
“Mr. Max asked me to tell you he’s prepared a special housewarming gift for you,” the butler replied coolly.
Max’s name caught her off guard, and despite herself, she felt a flicker of anticipation.
The corners of her lips curled up, only for a jolt of pain to remind her of her injuries. Her hatred for Alessia deepened.
She had just reached the front steps when something crashed down from the second floor.
Before she could dodge, something struck her shoulder, making her drop her suitcase and clutch her arm with a sharp intake of breath.
A heavy thumping sound caught her attention. Ileana looked up, eyes widening in shock.
A basketball was rolling slowly into the corner.
<b>C </b>