Chapter 271

Evander stiffened, a blush spreading across his fair complexion all the way to the tips of his ears. He stared dumbfounded at Natasha, his lips parted wordlessly, but not a single word came out. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, then flung his sleeve in fury and spat out, “Ridiculous!” With that, he stormed off with his entourage in tow, like a gust of wind.

With Athena’s help, Natasha scrambled to her feet. She brushed the dust off her clothes, pointed at Prince Evander’s retreating figure, and snapped, “In your dreams! I’d rather marry a vagabond than you!”

Seething, she vigorously wiped her mouth with her sleeve, her eyes brimming with tears. “What terrible luck—how did I end up running into such a jinx?” she muttered.

Athena snapped back to reality and hastily tugged Natasha toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here, now,” she urged. Even though they were upstairs, there was no telling if they’d been spotted. Better to leave now before things got worse.

Athena led Natasha away and stopped in a secluded spot. “I’ll have the coachman take you back first,” she said firmly. “What happened today–bury it deep. Not a word to anyone.”

Though caught up in her marriage predicament, Natasha knew better than to gamble with her reputation. Natasha nodded. “I’m not stupid,” she thought, if anyone finds out about this, I’m done for. With how old-fashioned my dad is, he’d probably kill me himself.

“Alright, go on–hurry up,” Athena urged her.

Natasha climbed into the carriage, then leaned out the window and called, “Sorry I spoiled your fun today. I’ll make it up to you next time?”

As the carriage rolled away, Athena let out a wry smile. Still thinking about that at a time like this? she thought. She could only pray nothing would come of this–otherwise, who knew how this would play out.

Athena hurried back, a nasty feeling gnawing at her. She’d been gone so long–who knew how her grandmother was doing? She needed to get back as soon as possible.

Half an hour later, Margaret was enjoying the opera in her private box when someone suddenly burst in.

“Grandmother!” Someone utterly disheveled and battered dropped to his knees at her feet.

Startled, Margaret steadied herself, and only then did she clearly recognize the man before her—it was Matthew, the second son of the Hopson family. He was a far cry from his usual polished self: his hair was matted, his clothes torn, and bruises marked his face.

Kneeling before her, panic written all over his face, Matthew pleaded, “Grandmother, please save me!”

Margaret took one look at him and knew this was serious. Her face darkened as she demanded, “What happened?”

Matthew’s eyes darted around guiltily, unable to meet her gaze.

“Speak!” Margaret demanded, her voice low and edged with anger. Her piercing stare pinned Matthew as she slammed her palm down on the table.

Matthew glanced nervously at the thugs searching the opera house, gritted his teeth, and spilled the truth. “Grandmother, I was tricked! They lured me into gambling, promising a loan of ten thousand taels of silver to be repaid in two months. But it’s only been ten days, and they’re already here demanding the money back.”

“They lent me ten thousand taels, but after just ten days, they’re demanding twelve thousand. If I don’t pay, they said they’ll cut off my hand!”

“Smack!” A resounding slap landed squarely on Matthew’s face. His head snapped sharply to the side from the force. Margaret’s face turned deathly pale with fury as she jabbed a trembling finger at his nose and thundered, “Get out! Get out of my sight! I never want to see your face again!”

Matthew’s eyes widened in shock as he stared at Margaret in utter disbelief. He couldn’t believe that his grandmother, who had always doted on her descendants, would not only strike him but also refuse to help.

“Grandmother, I’m your own flesh and blood…” Matthew choked out a sob, his eyes bloodshot as he pleaded desperately with Margaret, “If you don’t save me now, they’ll beat me to death!”

Her chest heaving violently with rage, Margaret jabbed her finger under Matthew’s nose and thundered, “Go! Go beg your parents for help–I wash my hands of you!”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she collapsed in a dead faint.

Gwen cried out in alarm, “Help! Someone, quick! Mrs. Monson has fainted!”

Seeing Margaret collapse, Matthew froze in terror, his earlier defiance gone. Just as he moved to help, one of the thugs spotted him and bellowed, “There he is!”

A group of them charged at him menacingly. Without a second thought, Matthew turned tail and ran like hell.

The commotion upstairs was unmistakable. From her vantage point, Jessa saw everything clearly. She spotted Athena heading over with Trina in tow and figured they would be fine. Without hesitation, Jessa leapt down to attend to Margaret first.

Athena was just one street away, but it would still take her about fifteen minutes to walk there. Just as she was about to turn the corner, Matthew suddenly barreled right into her.

The impact sent Athena sprawling to the ground. When Matthew realized it was her, his face registered instant astonishment.

“Ms. Monson, are you alright? Hurry, get up!” Trina rushed over to help her up, then shot Matthew an indignant look, “Sir, how could you be so reckless?”

Just then, a shout boomed from behind. “Stop right there!”

Matthew was about to bolt but saw the thugs had blocked every escape route. Each brandished crude weapons, closing in step by step. Scared out of his wits, Matthew instinctively hid behind Athena and blustered, “Don’t come any closer! I’m the Second Young Master of the duke’s estate! If you hurt me, you’ll pay dearly!”

He thought dropping his family name would make them back off, but the thugs just sneered. One of them growled, “I don’t give a damn what kind of Second Young Master you are. Either pay up, or I’ll chop off one of your hands!”

Matthew’s face went deathly pale with terror. In a desperate panic, he yanked Athena forward and blurted out to the thugs, “She’s my sister–the Viscountess! She’s got money, go get it from her!”

With that, he actually shoved Athena toward them and scaled the wall, fleeing for his life.

The thugs exchanged glances, but by the time they reacted, Matthew had already vanished into the distance. They surrounded Athena, faces dark with menace. One of them growled, “Debts must be paid–that’s only fair. You’re his sister, so the debt falls to you now.”

As trouble loomed, Trina stepped forward, her face full of indignation. “How dare you! This is the Viscountess! Are you tired of living, daring to make things difficult for her?”

At her words, the man who seemed to be the leader faltered, fear flickering across his face. But he still refused to let Athena go. “As long as the Viscountess pays back the silver, we’ll let you pass.”

“Every debt has its debtor,” Athena said coldly, her expression frosty. “If you want your silver, go after the one who owes you. If you don’t step aside right now, you’ll regret it dearly.”

One of the thugs leaned in and whispered urgently to the leader, “Boss, during the pandemic, it was the Viscountess of Lizzie who treated us. She’s a good person–we can’t do something this disgraceful. Besides, she’s the future Mrs. Cavendish…”

The leader’s expression softened, and after a moment’s hesitation, he reluctantly stepped aside.

Athena saw they had cleared the way and strode off. As she left, she tossed over her shoulder, “The debtor may flee, but his family won’t! Instead of chasing after Matthew, you’d do better to demand payment from the duke’s estate.”

Chapter 272