Chapter 8: Leaving the White Estate

After hearing Lucas's account, Alison was completely stunned. It took her a while to find her voice again, and she muttered, "That’s really strange." Lucas shrugged helplessly. “Oliver explained that he didn’t want you to die in the White family home. He was worried the media would spin the story, causing the White family’s stock to plummet.” Alison wasn’t surprised by this explanation. It was typical Oliver, perfectly in line with how he usually operated. Feeling groggy, Alison slept for another hour. When she woke up, she felt much better. Not wanting to delay further, she quickly packed a few essential items—clothes and important documents—and stuffed everything into a bag. Quietly, she left the estate, intentionally avoiding Jane Lane, fearing her mother’s inevitable tears. As Alison left the estate, every servant she passed looked at her as if she were something dirty, keeping their distance. But she didn’t care about their gazes. She couldn’t control what others thought of her. By the time she made it outside the estate, it was already quite late. Standing alone on the roadside, Alison couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. She had finally broken free from that place that had kept her trapped. The autumn weather in London was as unpleasant as ever. The sky remained overcast, and rain seemed to threaten constantly. A gust of cold wind blew through, causing Alison, dressed lightly, to shiver. She quickened her pace. White Estate, a castle built in the seventeenth century, sprawled over a vast area. Its biggest downside was its isolation—it was far from the city center. Taxis were a rare sight in this part of town. Typically, residents used private cars, and public transport, like buses or trams, wasn’t even an option. From her previous experience, Alison knew it would take at least two hours of walking to reach the city. Just thinking about it filled her with dread. She even regretted not taking the car Lucas had given her when she left. But returning now wasn’t an option. Bracing herself against the cold wind, Alison walked quickly under the dim streetlights. After walking for about twenty to thirty minutes, she suddenly heard the roar of an engine behind her. Her heart leapt with hope. She turned, eager to catch a ride, knowing it would save her from a long, exhausting walk. But when Alison saw the familiar car, the light in her eyes faded, and she sighed in frustration. It was Oliver’s car. The car sped past her, but moments later, it came to a stop. The engine roared again as the car reversed and parked beside her. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Oliver’s assistant, Aiston Pitt. “Miss Alison, are you heading to the city?” Aiston asked. Alison rolled her eyes, frustrated by his unnecessary question. Of course, he already knew the answer. Aiston, seemingly unaware of her irritation, continued, “We’re heading to the city. We can give you a ride.” Without a second thought, Alison refused. She had no intention of interacting with anyone from the White family ever again. “No, thank you. I’ll walk.” As she spoke, Alison glanced briefly toward the back seat, where she saw Oliver’s familiar, angry face. Not wanting to deal with him, she quickly looked away and continued walking. Aiston, taken aback by her swift rejection, hesitated for a moment before catching up to her. “Miss Alison, Mr. Oliver specifically instructed me to give you a ride. He said that if the media caught wind of your… disheveled appearance, it could negatively affect the White family’s stock,” Aiston added, his words laced with a subtle threat. Alison gritted her teeth, anger flaring inside her. But his statement was entirely in line with how Oliver operated. Alison could already picture how things would unfold if she didn’t comply—they’d likely force her into the car, creating an even uglier scene. Taking a deep breath, Alison swallowed her anger and reluctantly agreed, but this only strengthened her resolve to cut all ties with the White family. In her past life, Alison had endured countless instances of Oliver’s manipulative tactics. She knew Aiston was telling the truth. Reluctantly, she walked toward the car. But before she could open the passenger door, Aiston pushed her toward the back seat instead. Before Alison could react, the door slammed shut. Sitting there, Alison clenched her fists, repeatedly reminding herself not to lose her temper. She tried to calm down, telling herself that it was just a ride from a stranger—no big deal. Once she managed to relax, Alison noticed a strong smell of alcohol in the car. She glanced around, eventually fixing her gaze on Oliver. The smell was coming from him. It was late, and from Alison’s vantage point, Oliver’s typically sharp features appeared softer in the dim light. But despite his relaxed posture, there was an undeniable air of danger about him. Sensing her gaze, Oliver let out a soft grunt. Hearing the sound, Alison shivered involuntarily. She couldn’t explain why, but a sudden sense of dread washed over her. Instinctively, Alison shifted closer to the window, trying to put some distance between them. At that moment, her phone rang. She glanced down and saw Jane Lane’s name on the screen.