Chapter 300: Moving In

Fraser watched her tears fall. He reached out and brushed his thumb gently against the drops sliding down her cheek. His hand trembled. The warmth of her tears soaked into his chest, searing through him. His heart twisted painfully. He pulled her tightly into his arms.

“Don’t cry. If you’re upset, hit me. Say whatever you need to say—I’ll do anything for you, alright?”

After a while, Summer slowly lifted her head from his chest. Her eyes were red, but her voice was calm.

“I got a video at the press conference. From your grandmother. She threatened me, my mom, and Yvette. Told me I wasn’t allowed to say anything about you. That’s what hurt the most.”

Fraser hadn’t expected Helen would go that far. To threaten the woman he loved? How dare she? His brows drew together tightly. He wanted to speak, but it felt like a boulder was crushing his chest.

“Summer, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

Summer stepped back and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

“Helen never wanted me near you from the start. She thinks I’m not good enough for you.”

Fraser’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His voice was strained. “I won’t let you leave me.”

Summer looked up at him with clear, steady eyes. There was no warmth in her gaze.

“Fraser, do you love me?”

Fraser held her hand tightly, his eyes dark as the ocean in a storm. “Yes.”

“How much?”

Fraser stripped away every ounce of pride, his voice soft and bitter. “If I said I’d give you my life, would you believe me?”

“Then will you marry me?”

“I’ve always been willing to marry you.” His voice was steady, each word clear and firm.

Summer looked away, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. She paused for a moment, then looked back up at him, calm once more.

“I want to live at your place. The Graham mansion.”

Fraser’s handsome face didn’t reveal much. He looked down at her quietly, then nodded.

Helen was enjoying her tea in the living room. Suddenly, several maids pushed carts full of boxes across the floor. The carts were draped in luxurious women’s clothing, all the latest designer styles—bright, colorful, dazzling like clouds at sunset. Behind them came trays of sparkling jewelry and elegant household items. Karena rushed forward, stopping them.

“What are you doing?”

The maids kept their heads down, answering in small voices.

“Mr. Fraser told us to put these in his dressing room.”

Fraser was coming back? Helen was stunned—and thrilled. He hadn’t lived at the mansion since Lie was fifteen. Even when she and the old man managed to get him back for dinner, he’d leave as soon as the meal ended. But something felt off to Karena.

“Why are all these women’s clothes if he’s moving back?”

One of the maids mumbled, “They’re for Ms. Summer…”

Helen stood up and hurled her teacup straight at the maid’s head. A painful welt swelled instantly.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m sorry!” the maid cried.

“You useless trash!” Helen hissed, eyes sharp as ice. “Throw all of this out. Now!”

Suddenly—

“Try it, and see what happens.” A low voice rang through the room, calm and commanding. Helen’s head jerked up. Fraser was walking in, step by step, with Summer on his arm.

“Grandson, you… why are you…” She was so shocked her voice faltered. Summer slid her hand into the crook of Fraser’s elbow, leaning against him slightly. But in her eyes, there was no gentleness—only a cold, hidden fire. Seeing Helen frozen in disbelief, Summer’s lips curved into a faint smile.

Fraser looked down, caught her movement, and without hesitation, slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her close to his side.

“Summer’s pregnant,” he said, his voice steady. “After my grandfather’s 100-day memorial next month, we’ll be holding the wedding.”

The maids bowed their heads so low they nearly disappeared into their own chests. No one dared move.

“You… what did you say!” Helen collapsed back into her seat, her whole body trembling. She screamed, her voice sharp and furious.

“Fraser! Do you even care about me anymore!”

Fraser’s eyes were ice-cold. (The final sentence is unintelligible and has been omitted.)