Chapter 10
576words
I look at him coldly.
"Five hundred thousand per night."
"A hundred million, that's just two hundred days."
I reach out my hand and push away his burning chest.
"A lifetime? You're dreaming."
Theodore's expression freezes for a moment.
He seems not to expect that at this moment, I would still be calculating.
He narrows his eyes, about to erupt.
There's a commotion from downstairs.
It's the butler's panicked voice, accompanied by the muffled sound of a cane heavily striking the floor.
"Young master! Your father and mother have been waiting downstairs for a long time!"
"They've brought many people... saying they want to meet the young mistress!"
Theodore's movements stop.
That ambiguous, dangerous atmosphere instantly dissipates.
"My father is here."
He straightens up, adjusting his disheveled collar.
He turns to look at me.
"Listen."
He yanks me up from the sofa, roughly helping me straighten my hair.
"When we go down, keep your mouth shut."
"No matter what they say, don't speak using Siren's voice."
"Continue to be your mute self."
I frown: "Why?"
Weren't you just forcing me to speak?
Theodore grips my chin, his fingertips caressing my lips.
"Because they don't deserve to hear it."
"Also."
He suddenly leans in and bites down hard on them.
A warning tainted with the taste of blood.
"Play your role well. We need to make them believe that I'm madly in love with you."
Downstairs in the living room.
The atmosphere is suffocatingly tense.
Old Winterbourne sits in the main seat, holding the Eagle Head Cane that symbolizes his authority.
Beside him sits Theodore's mother, with exquisitely crafted indifference on her face.
Behind them stands a row of bodyguards in black, along with Chloe who had just fled downstairs in disarray.
This is hardly meeting the parents.
This is a tribunal.
As soon as Theodore and I appear at the stairway,
Old Winterbourne's gaze shoots toward us.
Like knives.
"Unfilial child!"
The cane strikes the floor heavily.
"For a con artist, you would burn down the Winterbourne Tower?"
"Have you gone mad?!"
Theodore doesn't speak.
He just wraps his arm around my waist.
That hand grips so tightly that his fingers almost dig into my flesh.
He's trembling.
He's suppressing the physiological rage that overtakes him whenever he sees these people.
"Father."
Theodore leads me before them, remaining standing, looking down at them from above.
"Ivy is not a fraud."
"She is my wife."
"Wife?" Old Winterbourne sneers, "When I first handed this mute over to you, you wanted nothing more than to strangle her."
"What now? Because she stole fifty million, you've fallen in love with her?"
"Theodore, your taste is getting worse and worse."
The noble lady beside him covers her nose with a handkerchief, giving me a look of disgust.
"Since she's a thief with sticky fingers, send her to prison."
"So she doesn't embarrass the Winterbourne family."
"Chloe has already called the police."
I stand there.
I can feel Theodore's arm around me tightening.
He's on the edge of losing control.
I instinctively want to break free.
What kind of loving marriage is this?
It's clearly like being put on the hot seat.
"Don't move."
Theodore whispers in my ear.
The next second.
He makes a gesture that leaves everyone dumbfounded.
He suddenly pulls me into his embrace.
In front of his stern parents.
In front of all the bodyguards.
And kisses me.
