Chapter 5

Matthew's steps faltered. She said she stabbed Daniel?

How was that possible? She loved that man so much she didn't even care about her own life—how could she bear to hurt him?

This must be a lie she made up just to stay.

Matthew closed his eyes, suppressing that absurd flutter in his chest.

"You won't believe it until you're facing the consequences yourself."

He glanced coldly at John beside him.

"What are you standing there for? Don't you want your job anymore?"

John jolted and quickly waved at the bodyguards. "Get her out of here!"

The two bodyguards rushed forward again, forcefully prying Elizabeth's fingers loose and dragging her toward the door.

"If you throw me out today, I'll die right in front of you!"

Elizabeth pulled out the diamond hairpin again, pressing it hard against her carotid artery.

The blood stung Matthew's eyes. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Damn woman, always knowing how to threaten him.

Even though he knew this was just another one of her acts, seeing the blood on Elizabeth's neck made Matthew's heart ache terribly.

"Want to die?" Matthew sneered. "Before I'm tired of you, you don't even have the right to die."

Matthew waved the bodyguards away, his gaze sweeping over Elizabeth like she was trash.

"Since you want to stay as a maid, I'll grant your wish."

Matthew turned around and pulled the still-dazed Emily into his arms.

"John, take her to change. Don't let her dirty blood offend my eyes."

"From today on, she's the maid in charge of serving Ms. Johnson."

Elizabeth's tense nerves finally relaxed, and the hairpin dropped from her hand.

As long as she could stay, as long as she could be near him, she'd do anything.

Half an hour later, Elizabeth changed into an ill-fitting maid's uniform. The skirt was ridiculously short, exposing her scarred legs.

Matthew sat on the second-floor sofa smoking, and through the smoke, his gaze unconsciously fell on Elizabeth's feet downstairs.

Those feet he used to hold tenderly in his hands were now bloody and mangled.

Matthew's hand holding the cigarette trembled slightly, as if something had slammed hard into his chest.

What had this woman done to herself to end up like this?

John walked up to Matthew nervously and reported in a low voice.

"Mr. Moore, we just found out—Ms. Winters ran here all the way from the wedding venue. She ran the entire dozen miles barefoot."

"I heard she even passed a car accident scene on the way, with broken glass all over the road..."

Before John could finish, Matthew suddenly stood up and growled.

"What are you standing here for? Can't you see her feet? Go get a doctor!"

John scrambled out to fetch someone.

Matthew stared at Elizabeth's mangled feet, his chest heaving violently.

She used to cry for half a day over a paper cut, and now she could run dozens of miles barefoot?

Did she love Daniel that much? Enough to endure this kind of suffering?

In the kitchen, Elizabeth was cutting onions.

The pungent smell irritated her tear ducts, and tears kept flowing down.

Matthew stood at the kitchen door at some point, leaning against the doorframe, watching her coldly.

"What, cooking a meal makes you feel wronged?"

Elizabeth wiped her face messily. "No... it's just the onions are too strong..."

Matthew snorted. "Elizabeth, drop the pitiful act. It makes me sick."

Elizabeth's mind wandered, and the knife in her hand slipped. The sharp blade instantly cut her index finger, and blood gushed out.

The moment Matthew saw her injured, he instinctively rushed to her, put her finger in his mouth, and sucked the blood.

That warm, wet sensation made Elizabeth freeze in place.

"You idiot, you can't even cut vegetables without hurting yourself!"

He cursed, but his hands didn't stop searching for a band-aid.

Elizabeth looked at Matthew's tense profile, at the anxiety in his eyes, and her eyes suddenly welled up.

He still cared about her. No matter how harsh his words were, his body's instinctive reaction couldn't lie.

Elizabeth suddenly stood on her wounded tiptoes and, as Matthew lowered his head to put the band-aid on her, she leaned in and kissed him lightly on the chin.

Matthew looked up at her in disbelief.

Elizabeth's eyes were teary, but the corners of her mouth curved into a slight smile. "Matthew, you still care about me, don't you?"

Matthew pushed her away as if he'd been burned.

"Don't flatter yourself!"

He turned his face away somewhat awkwardly, but his ears turned strangely red. "I just don't want your dirty blood messing up my kitchen. It's disgusting!"

Just then, John rushed in with the family doctor, out of breath.

"Mr. Moore, the doctor's here."

Matthew immediately resumed his cold demeanor and ordered.

"Look at her feet. They're disgusting."

The doctor gasped when he saw Elizabeth's mangled feet.

The process of cleaning the wounds was painful—tweezers picking out broken glass and pebbles from the torn flesh.

Elizabeth broke out in cold sweat from the pain, biting her lip hard to keep from crying out.

Matthew sat on the sofa not far away, seemingly reading documents, but not taking anything in.

His gaze never left her bloody feet.

Every time the doctor used the tweezers, Matthew's brow twitched.

Damn it, why did it feel like he was the one in pain?

After her feet were treated, Elizabeth endured the pain and spent an hour preparing a lavish dinner.

Though just simple home-cooked dishes, they were beautifully presented and fragrant—flavors Matthew used to love.

Matthew glanced at the dishes on the table and sneered, casually knocking over a bowl of soup. "Who knows what you put in there? Trying to poison me?"

Elizabeth didn't argue. She tasted every dish.

"There's no poison, Matthew. How could I harm you..."

"Shut up! Who gave you permission to call me Matthew!" Matthew cut her off with disgust.

He pulled Emily close and pointed at a bowl of oatmeal on the table.

"Since there's no poison, do your job as a maid."

"Serve Emily her meal."

"Okay." Elizabeth suppressed the bitterness in her heart, picked up the bowl of oatmeal, and walked to Emily. "Ms. Johnson, please eat."

Emily felt extremely satisfied seeing Elizabeth so submissive.

Just as Elizabeth handed over the bowl, she suddenly raised her hand.

The scalding bowl of oatmeal spilled all over Elizabeth's hand.

Elizabeth cried out in pain as her hand instantly turned bright red.