Chapter 202
Chapter 202 Barbecue and Blowback
“Well, go on then, get some rest,” Arabella urged
With that, Alfred strode into the grand foyer of the main house.
“Alfred’s job is so demanding,” Arabella sighed, watching his retreating back.
“Don’t feel too sorry for him. He lives for it,” Ethan revealed beside her.
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“You’re right. He must love it. No one could make him do something he hated,” Arabella mused, thinking how all her older brothers were impressive and strong–willed in their own ways. The Hamilton family didn’t need their income, yet each was passionately pursuing their own path.
Inside, Jonathan and Florence saw Alfred enter. Just get back? Have you eaten?” Florence asked with concern.
“Not yet, but I’m not hungry. I’m going to crash for a few hours first. I’ll come down and talk later.” Alfred gave them a brief, tired greeting before heading up the staircase.
“That boy comes home looking completely drained every time,” Jonathan remarked, watching his son’s weary ascent.
“Alfred’s work is too intense. Maybe we should try to persuade him to find something… less consuming?” Florence said to Jonathan, her voice tinged with maternal worry.
“Sure. You can try talking to him later,” Jonathan agreed.
“Why are you passing the hard job to me? You know how pig–headed Alfred can be. I won’t get anywhere on my own.” Florence gave Jonathan a sidelong glance.
“Then find yourself a partner in persuasion,” Jonathan hinted.
Florence caught on immediately. “You mean ask Arabella to help…”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow in confirmation just as Ethan wheeled Arabella back into the
room.
“Did you see Alfred come in?” Florence asked them.
“Yes, we just spoke with him outside,” Ethan replied.
“He looked utterly exhausted,” Arabella commented without thinking.
Hearing this, Florence and Jonathan exchanged a look. Florence then took Arabella’s hand
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Chapter 202 Barbecue and Blowback
and steered the conversation toward lighter, everyday topics.
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“Arabella, are you getting hungry? Do you want me to get you something?” Ethan asked, his tone caring.
“Now that you mention it, I am a bit peckish. I could go for some barbecue. What about everyone else?” Arabella voiced her craving and then turned to the others.
“Not a bad idea. I haven’t had good barbecue in ages. I’ll have the staff fire up the grill out back,” Ethan agreed. He then looked at his parents. “Mom? Dad? Barbecue sound good?”
“Sounds perfect,” Florence answered.
“Alright, Arabella, you stay here and chat with Mom and Dad. I’ll go give the instructions and be right back,” Ethan said before heading toward the kitchen.
***
Meanwhile, in the living room of Macdonald Villa, Harper was scrolling on her phone when she stumbled upon a social media post featuring her and Dylan.
Seeing the intimate photos of them together, she was hit with a wave of hot shame and immediate anger.
“What sneaky creep took these and posted them?! How pathetic can you be!” she shouted, her rage boiling over as she scrolled further. It was over. Her reputation was ruined. How could they ever show their faces at that lounge again…
Hearing Harper’s outburst, Freya hurried over. “Harper? Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked, her face etched with concern.
Harper was too mortified to explain. She just kept her head down, refusing to speak. She couldn’t possibly show her mother those pictures.
Seeing her daughter’s distressed, almost guilty posture, Freya grew more anxious. “Harper, talk to me! Don’t just bottle it up. Tell me what happened and I’ll help you fix it.”
Harper finally lifted her head reluctantly. Her flushed cheeks instantly told Freya something was seriously amiss.
“Harper,” Freya pressed gently, “what were you yelling about?”
After an internal struggle, Harper silently handed her phone to her mother.
When Freya saw the images on the screen, her eyes went wide. “Is that… you and Dylan?!” she gasped, hardly believing what she was seeing.
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The two people in the photos had been downright brazen–not just sharing a passionate kiss in a dimly lit booth, but engaging in even more indiscreet behavior on the sidewalk outside.
A mix of fury and disbelief washed over Freya as she looked from the phone to her daughter. “Even if you’re head over heels for that boy, you cannot carry on like this in public!” she scolded.
“We didn’t know anyone was taking pictures! Mom, please, you have to help me get these taken down,” Harper pleaded, her voice desperate.
“These photos have that damned Arabella written all over them!” Freya spat through gritted teeth. “You should be ashamed! I’ll deal with this mess online first. We will talk about your behavior later. You are not to set foot outside this house until further notice. Is that clear?”
Freya thrust the phone back into Harper’s hands, issued the order, and stormed away. She didn’t have time to lecture Harper now; the priority was damage control. She couldn’t let these photos destroy her daughter’s social standing.
Harper watched her mother leave, her face still burning. A stew of humiliation and rage simmered inside her, and she directed all of it inward at Arabella.
That hateful witch! First, she has Dylan injured, and now she does this?