Before Hailey could reach the taxi pickup point, a black Bentley sedan glided silently to a stop in front of her. She immediately recognized the black-clad man in the passenger seat — Travis's bodyguard. The same man who'd grabbed her in the elevator last night and dragged her to Travis.
The man stepped out and opened the backseat door. His tone was respectful but firm. "Young madam, please get in the car."
Hailey's eyes flicked to Travis. Through the tinted window, she caught his cold gaze for a brief second. Despite the crowds at the hospital entrance, she didn't want to cause a scene or fuel any gossip. She hesitated, then crouched slightly and ducked into the car.
Travis stared straight ahead, expression hard as stone. Neither of them spoke.
Inwardly, Hailey cursed him. Dragging her into the car without so much as an explanation — what did he want now?
After a moment, she reached her hand toward the driver, Samuel. "I'm sorry. Can you drop me at the next bus stop?"
Samuel glanced at her through the rearview mirror, surprise flashing in his eyes. The young lady's bold, he thought. But if the boss doesn't want the car to stop… who dares?
Travis's voice sliced through the silence, low and cold. "There's no bus stop within two kilometers of Blake Manor. Planning to walk the rest of the way?"
Hailey met his eyes, unbothered. "Since Calvin isn't there anymore, I don't see why I should be either."
She'd barely spent fifteen minutes in that mansion — and even then, it never felt like hers. Her room wasn't hers. Her place in that family wasn't hers. She could collect her things another day.
Travis's lips curled faintly, the malice in his voice unmistakable. "Thinking of living outside the mansion… on your own terms?" He leaned slightly toward her. "You're still the young madam of the Blake family, whether you accept it or not."
Hailey's heart skipped, her surprise flickering across her face before she masked it. He wasn't just angry — he was warning her. Reminding her that marriage to him came with shackles, not choices.
Her throat tightened as her mother's humiliation replayed in her mind. She forced the sting of tears down.
Travis noticed the subtle shift in her expression. For a moment, something in him faltered — but he shoved it aside.
His eyes narrowed. "Last night," he said, voice like steel, "did you really think that would save the Stewart family? You're not even part of their hotel."
The words hit like ice. He knew. Or at least, he suspected. Her deception. Her boldness. Sleeping with him, mocking him — all while not even belonging to the hotel she supposedly represented.
His eyes darkened. His hand shot out, rough fingers gripping her neck — not tight enough to choke, but enough to warn. "Tell me… did you target me on purpose? You knew exactly who I was, didn't you?"
Panic flared in Hailey's chest. She wanted to blurt the truth — If I'd known you were Travis Blake, I would've run the other way. But the words stuck. Denver's voice echoed in her mind.
Smile. Endure. Never provoke him. If Travis Blake gets angry… no one wins.
She clenched her fists. Her uncle was sick, fighting for his life. Without the Blake family's power, finding a heart donor was nearly impossible.
"I didn't know it was you," she said softly, steadying her voice. "I've never seen your photo before… I didn't know you were Travis Blake."
The car fell silent. The air felt heavy, tight.
Then, rage lit Travis's eyes.
With a sharp motion, he slammed his fist against the window beside him. The thick, bulletproof glass barely made a sound — but the skin on his knuckles split open from the impact.
Hailey flinched, startled by the raw violence simmering under his calm face.
Did I say the wrong thing?
Should I have lied? Said I did it on purpose?
But it was too late. Her words were out.
Up front, Samuel and the bodyguard exchanged a quick glance but kept their eyes straight ahead, stiff as statues.
The car rolled to a stop outside Blake Manor.
The first thing Hailey noticed was the missing red lanterns and wedding decorations. The mansion had already started erasing signs of the celebration.
Before the car even stopped, she said flatly, "Get a first aid kit."
A small crowd of servants had gathered by the steps. But none of them looked at her. All eyes were on Travis.
They swarmed around him, worried about his hand, ignoring her completely, like she was invisible.
Hailey's jaw tightened.
Travis barked at them to back off, his voice cold and sharp. Then he motioned for her to come over.
Reluctantly, Hailey stepped forward. As she did, the crowd's eyes finally landed on her — heavy, cold, full of judgment.
Some looked at her with contempt. Others with pity. A few, with pure indifference.
She kept her face blank and held out her hand awkwardly. "I… I've never dressed a wound before," she admitted.
Travis's distant gaze lingered on her, dark and unreadable.
But she could feel it — behind that stare was blame. Anger. Maybe even hatred.
It wasn't just him. She could feel it from the others, too.
It was only her first day in the Blake family… and already, people whispered that her beauty had caused Calvin Blake's death. That she'd somehow offended the family's patriarch.
Her future here? It looked grim. Maybe worse than the servants'. Maybe worse than that.
And standing here, surrounded by strangers who already wanted her gone, one bitter thought filled her mind.
What good was beauty… when it might just get her killed?