Chapter 84: Unveiled Shards
Matilda froze on the spot, her mind completely short-circuiting. Mr. Reed? The head of Reed Industries? This rat is associated with him? Confusion and a creeping sense of dread began to bleed through her rage.
Her knees began to subtly buckle at the weight of Samuel’s glare.
Though Liora did not know much about business or who this Mr. Reed was, she felt too uncomfortable to stay any longer, so she quickly grabbed the housekeeper’s trembling hand.
"Matilda," Liora urged, her voice tight. "Let’s just go."
"But, Miss Liora—!"
"It’s just a dress," Liora interrupted firmly, pulling her back. "Let’s go. We can look at another section. It will be bad if we cause Mother any trouble."
Matilda flinched at the sound of that. If Reed Industries got involved over a public scene caused by her, Madam Morgan would likely skin her alive and reprimand Liora for the scandal.
Matilda still had an entire mountain of insults left in her mouth, but given the gravity of the situation, she had no choice but to leave with her lips zipped.
As they began to back away, April let out a soft, mocking chuckle. She raised her hand and playfully wiggled her fingers at them in a taunting, slow wave, her lips curling into a wide, beautifully wicked grin.
Liora subtly glanced over her shoulder one last time, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and bewilderment, before she and a stumbling Matilda vanished completely behind the velvet VIP curtains.
Once the air in the boutique finally cleared, Samuel turned back to April, his posture immediately shifting back into a flawless, respectful bow. The dark anger in his eyes was replaced by his usual calm professional demeanor.
"Miss April," Samuel inquired smoothly, "should I coordinate with Mr. Reed’s legal department to pursue formal defamation charges against the Morgan household anyway?"
April shook her head, looking down at the sleek, midnight-black satin gown now firmly in her possession.
"No need," she murmured, a cold, triumphant hunger glinting in her eyes as she ran her fingers over the smooth fabric. "I think we’re going to have a much bigger stage later tonight." She looked up at him, her smile turning sharp and predictive. "Let’s not ruin the anticipation."
The fitting ended there. Now that April had chosen her piece for the night, the boutique assistants quickly helped her package her piece as well as some jewelry she had picked on the way.
They were all packaged with absolute care, and within minutes, they were back in the serene, climate-controlled sanctuary of the luxury sedan.
The car glided smoothly back onto the mountain roads, heading up toward the quiet ridge of the Reed estate.
April slouched comfortably into the plush leather seat, immediately bringing her tablet out from her spatial dimension.
The pixelated world of Winecraft flared to life, and her thumbs began tapping the screen like someone who had played the game for years.
She was fully locked into rebuilding her digital defenses, but as the miles stretched on, she could feel a heavy, persistent weight cutting through her peripheral vision.
She glanced up subtly. In the rearview mirror, Samuel’s eyes were fixed on her reflection, his brow slightly furrowed in deep, silent contemplation. He had been staring for some time now, his gaze shifting back to the road only to drift right back to her face.
She went back to her game, thinking he would stop staring now that he knew she was aware but he still stared, as if staring would give him the answer he was searching for.
Without looking up from her screen, April spoke into the quiet cabin. "What is it, Samuel?"
Samuel’s posture stiffened slightly against the driver’s seat. "Nothing of importance, Miss April."
"Then stop drilling a hole in my forehead," she replied flatly, her thumbs never skipping a beat on the glass interface. "I can feel it, you know."
Samuel let out a soft, slightly nervous laugh, the rigid professionalism in his shoulders dropping just a fraction. He looked genuinely apologetic. "I am sorry, Miss April. It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable."
"Speak. What is it?" she commanded, finally lifting her dark gaze from her game to look directly at his reflection in the mirror.
Samuel hesitated for a brief second, his hands tightening slightly on the leather steering wheel. "I just... find myself curious about your background. After witnessing the interaction in the boutique..." He paused, clearing his throat carefully. "I do not mean to pry, ma’am. I am simply curious, and I am certainly not demanding a response."
April stared at the back of his head, her expression an unreadable mask of clinical detachment. For a second, the heavy silence inside the moving sedan was deafening.
Then, she let out a slow, quiet breath and set her tablet down on her lap.
"It’s okay," she said, her voice dropping into a calm, steady baseline. "We’ve been working together for a while now, and I assume you probably thought I was some high-end, elusive elite or the hidden heir to some massive underground syndicate. I carry myself that well, I guess."
She let out a short, quiet chuckle, but it wasn’t a happy sound. It was dry, hollow, and sharp enough to make Samuel’s chest tighten.
"Let’s just say... everything you’ve thought of me up to this point is entirely wrong," April continued, leaning her head back against the leather headrest, staring blankly out the window at the passing pines. "I don’t come from a rich family. I don’t own my own corporation. All I’ve got is this fortune-telling ability that I recently acquired. It’s solely thanks to this that I can ride in such a fancy car, hoard millions of dollars, and have you—a top-class corporate assistant—following me around like a shadow. In other words, I was poor up until this week."
Samuel kept his eyes strictly on the road, but his breathing slowed, his ears straining to catch every single word of her unvarnished truth.
"Before all of this, before I ever crossed paths with Xavier Reed, I was a maid," April stated bluntly, her tone so casual it was jarring. "And not even a maid that was treated well."
She let out another laugh, though this one sounded purely cynical, as if she were reading the script of a bad comedy. "I was heavily abused. Beaten, starved, locked away—all that tragic stuff you see in prime-time television dramas. Now, you might sit in your clean corporate offices and think those things don’t actually happen in real life, but I am a living testament to it."
She paused, her eyes darkening for a fraction of a second as the foreign weight of her own name pressed against her chest once more.
"And on top of that, I also don’t have my childhood memories. So," she sighed, her hands moving smoothly as she picked her tablet back up, instantly illuminating the colorful screen to resume her game like she hadn’t just dumped a massive, horrifyingly tragic life story into the open air. "There really is some truth to those fantasy books and movies."
"Miss April..." Samuel began, his voice dropping into a thick, deeply solemn register, filled with a sudden, profound wave of protective instinct.
"Focus on the driving, Samuel," April muttered, her thumbs already flying across the screen, her focus entirely consumed by the digital blocks of Winecraft once more. "The past is just a low-value asset. It doesn’t yield any profit."
Samuel closed his mouth, swallowing the words of sympathy he knew she would only despise.
He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, looking at her one final time with an intensity that was entirely iron-clad.
She was unhinged, she was unapologetic, and she had crawled out of a literal hell to stand where she was today.
To him, it didn’t matter if she had been a maid or a queen; she was his sole priority, and he would ensure no one ever put a hand on her again.
