Chapter 6
Colleen picked up a piece of cake with a silver fork and offered it to Aiden. "Aiden, try this. It's from that shop in Porisia."
Aiden took a bite and nodded. "It's pretty good. Get more next time."
Bethany stood outside the gazebo, holding the box of honey cakes.
The blood on her pant leg had dried into a dark brown crust, and every step tugged painfully at her skin.
She stood there for a few seconds.
Aiden noticed her.
His eyes flicked to what she was holding, and he frowned.
"Honey cakes are too rich. Colleen doesn't feel like having them right now," he said.
He picked up a macaron, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the weather.
"Throw them away," he said.
Bethany glanced down at the box of honey cakes in her hands.
She'd spent over forty minutes riding on the bike.
She'd even fallen.
Her knee was torn open and bleeding.
And now, she was told to just toss the cakes.
She didn't say a word.
She dropped the honey cakes into the trash can by the entrance hall.
The package landed with a dull thud.
She turned and made her way to her own room.
Her figure was rigid, limping with every step, leaving scattered dark red stains trailing across the floor.
Aiden sat in the gazebo, watching her limp away. Suddenly, he found he couldn't eat the macaron in his hand.
A wave of irritation welled up in his chest.
He tossed the macaron back onto the plate and took a sip of his coffee.
He didn't know why he felt so annoyed.
His fingers clenched around the coffee cup, and when he set it on the table, a crack appeared along the rim.
Colleen put on a startled look and reached for his arm. "Aiden, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he replied.
Aiden brushed her hand off, got up, and walked away.
He walked into the hall, looked at the box of honey cakes in the trash can, his face going through a range of emotions.
In the end, he did nothing. He turned and went upstairs.
*****
Bethany went back to her room, closed the door, and slipped out of her pants.
The wound on her knee was worse than she'd expected. Bits of gravel were lodged deep in her flesh, and she'd have to pull out each shard with tweezers.
She reached under her bed for the plastic box and dug out the tweezers.
When she pulled out the first shard of gravel, her hand trembled uncontrollably.
The pain was sharp.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she stayed silent.
After pulling out the seventh shard, she pressed a cotton ball soaked in iodine firmly against the wound, the pain making her back arch involuntarily.
She endured the pain for a few seconds before her breathing finally steadied.
She pulled out her old voice recorder and pressed record.
She said, "On november 19th, 2024, I'd had my ninth accident.
"I rode my bike to the southern part of city to buy honey cakes. A car swerved out of nowhere and knocked me over. My knee got busted up.
"I came back and got told they didn't want them anymore, so I had to toss the honey cakes."
She paused, then quietly added, "Bowers Group's private hospital still won't treat me because Aiden ordered it.
"This is the ninth time now."
She turned off the voice recorder.
Then she pulled up some screenshots from her phone gallery.
They were images from the public surveillance cameras at the intersection in the south of town. Danica had helped her retrieve them.
The screenshots captured every moment of her being hit and knocked to the ground.
Bethany had collected everything, including the surveillance footage from her earlier accidents, hospital records showing they turned her away, and screenshots of internal emails Aiden sent giving the order. She'd sorted it all and locked it away in an encrypted folder.
The folder was named with a string of numbers: 20171024.
It was the day Aiden and her got married.
She locked her phone, picked up the voice recorder, and in a voice so rough it was barely audible, she recorded one last message.
She said, "This is the ninth time, Aiden Bowers."
"You owe me a life, and you're running out of time to make it right."
*****
On Liam's Sip-and-See Party, the Bowers family threw a huge party at their villa.
It was a lavish affair.
Almost everyone from Glenburgh's elite circle showed up, and they had sixty tables set up for the guests.
The hall was draped with blue silk and gold balloons. The round tables were covered in snow-white tablecloths, and at every seat lay a gold-foil invitation custom-made by the Bowers family.
The invitation read: [Warmest congratulations to Ms. Colleen Nelson on the joyous arrival of her son.]
Colleen Nelson, not Bethany Massey.
Bethany stood at the back door of the hall, looking at the invitation in her hand, expressionless.
A servant approached with a polite smile and guided her to the table tucked away by the kitchen.
At the table sat three servants, a gardener, and two security guards.
It was the servants' table.
The child's real mother had to sit at the servants' table.
Bethany dragged out a chair and sat down.
The food here was nothing like what they had at the main table. It was greasy stuff cooked in huge batches, dumped into aluminum trays.
The gardener recognized her, paused for a moment, then quickly kept his head down and buried himself in his food, not meeting her eyes.
The main table was set dead center in the hall.
Colleen sat beside Aiden, cradling Liam in her arms. Liam was all bundled up in a bright red jacket.
Today, Colleen wore a water-blue velvet gown, her hair styled in a low bun, an emerald necklace hanging around her neck.
Bethany recognized that necklace.
It was the Bowers family's heirloom, the emerald a deep green with flawless clarity.
According to the Bowers family's traditions, only the matriarch was allowed to wear it.