Chapter 386 Philip, Such a Bad Man
Gabriella's mother had been taken away after stabbing Odette, but somehow managed to lawyer her way out.
The moment she got home, she went looking for trouble. Only, Gabriella was nowhere to be found. So she called instead—just to spit venom down the line.
"Get your ass back here right now! Out in the middle of the night, trying to seduce men, aren't you? I'm the only one in this world who truly cares about you, do you hear me?"
Gabriella had heard these lines so many times they barely registered anymore. She drew in a slow breath, her fingers trembling.
"Your idea of caring is marrying me off to a man shorter, fatter, poorer, and weaker than I am? A man drowning in debt—debt you expect me to pay?
"Your idea of caring is hurting Odette?
"You want someone you can control. A man beneath you in every way so you can make sure he'll never leave. And as for Odette—she didn't obey you, so you hit her. A mother hitting her own child is 'only natural,' right?"
Gabriella let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
"Well, good news—if I turn into a lunatic like you, I'll never need a divorce either. The only reason you didn't get one is because my father didn't want you. A husband cheating on his wife is 'only natural' too, isn't it?"
That last jab hit Sloane right where it hurt. Her voice exploded into a string of curses so vicious it was hard to believe they were coming from a mother to her daughter.
Gabriella gripped the balcony rail, her whole body shaking.
Down below, Emma tilted her head, listening. Then, without hesitation, she planted a foot on the balcony edge, grabbed the rail above, and swung herself up in one clean motion.
She snatched the phone from Gabriella's hand.
"Are you out of your damn mind? Should I call a psych ward for you? Who talks to their own kid like this?"
People with narcissistic personality disorder were masters at keeping up a façade in public.
The moment Sloane heard a stranger's voice, her tone flipped instantly.
"Is this one of Gabriella's friends?" she cooed, all syrup and concern. "Gabriella is… difficult. Cold. Odd. She doesn't have many friends. Be careful around her, dear."
"Drop the act! You're the one I should be watching out for!" Emma shot back.
"That's no way to speak to your elders, young lady."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Please. Whoever calls you family is doomed to be set up with ugly men."
Sloane's sweetness vanished. Her voice turned to ice. "Gabriella, if you don't come home tonight, don't bother coming back at all."
"Who's begging to come back? Go cry over your husband's memorial photo."
Emma hung up before Gabriella could react, all in one fluid motion. She handed the phone back with a shrug.
"Sorry. I've got a bad temper."
"It's fine. Thank you."
Gabriella had long since given up on Sloane.
After a pause, Emma said, "Not to tell you what to do, but… you really should stay away from people like that."
"I know. But Odette was still in school. I was worried she'd do something to hurt her."
Gabriella's family was a wreck—an unfaithful father, a mentally unstable, controlling mother, and years of crushing, belittling 'discipline' that hung over her like a slab of stone.
"Last time I blocked her and moved out with Odette, she called the police."
Gabriella gave a helpless smile and patted Emma's shoulder. "Don't worry. I have a plan. Worst case, I leave the country and never come back. Not a big deal."
Emma blinked. "We barely know each other. If I cross a line, there's nothing you can do about it, right?"
If she told Charles what had just happened—and maybe asked him for a little business cooperation—well, that wouldn't be too much, would it? After all, this was the Windsor Villa. The Windsor family deserved to know what went on here.
Gabriella narrowed her eyes. "What exactly are you planning?"
Emma just smiled like she hadn't said anything and was about to swing herself back down when a cold voice cut in.
"Go back to your own room. Now."
"Ms. Windsor, one man shows up in your room and suddenly I'm yesterday's news?"
Catherine pressed a hand to her forehead.
"This Emma is interesting," Alexander said lazily. "I heard she handed over all the Kate family's casino licenses to the government last month. Looks like she's trying to half-legitimize their operations."
The Kate family had built their fortune on gambling. Touching the casinos meant touching more power and money than most people could imagine. No wonder they were in chaos now.
Catherine arched a brow. "What are you doing here?"
"Missed you. Came to see you."
"You could have called."
Alexander held up his phone. "I did. A lot. You didn't answer. I was worried something happened. Saw your light on, so I came up."
Somehow, that made it her fault.
"Sorry. I didn't check my phone."
Alexander slid an arm around her waist, leaning in. "Then be good. Let me hold you for a bit. I'll leave after."
Catherine looked down at him. He never hid the way he looked at her—open, steady, unshakable. It tugged at the corner of her mouth. She didn't push him away.
Later, with the night deep and quiet, Emma slipped out of Charles's study with several contracts in hand.
She almost made it to the stairs before running into Philip, who was passing by with a glass of water. He froze, hand over his mouth, eyes wide.
"You just came out of Charles's study? A woman like you—violent—Charles would never be interested in you!"
Emma stared at him like he'd grown two heads. She'd been there to talk business. Legitimate business. With a few extra incentives to sweeten the deal.
"Mr. Windsor, in your mind, a woman walking out of a man's study can only mean one thing? You're an idiot."
Philip blinked, wrong-footed by the insult.
Emma waved the contracts in his face and rolled her eyes. "I'm a businesswoman, not some fool whose head is full of the garbage you're thinking."
Philip hesitated. "Sorry. I didn't mean—"
"I don't care what you meant. Jackass."
She stepped down hard on his bare foot before storming away.
Hopping in pain, Philip's face flushed. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He knew Emma wasn't that kind of woman. But seeing her come out of Charles's study still made something twist in his chest.
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