Chapter 3: The Beanpole Accusation

Ivy bristled under his gaze, wrapping her arms around her chest in feigned defense, sharply retorting, "Where exactly are you looking, you ruffian?" "Ruffian?" Cecil found her amusing, his brows arching slightly, "Your frame hardly qualifies as an airport runway; at best..." He appraised Ivy once more, concluding, "You're more of a beanpole." Ivy: "..." You're the beanpole! Opting to maintain her cool demeanor, Ivy strategically sealed her lips, huffing coldly before settling into an aloof silence. She was curious to see what other antics this man might pull. Moments later, the waitstaff efficiently arranged their meal. Cecil gave her a brief glance before delving into his food. Despite his mouth running amok, his every move radiated an inherent aristocratic charm. Ivy cast him a sidelong glance and began her meal, dignified. Ah! The steak was indeed flavorful, its juices seeping onto her taste buds, exploding with aroma in her mouth. She couldn't help but take a few extra bites. Suddenly... "Hey, why did you hit me?" Ivy frowned, rubbing her head where the man had tapped her with his spoon. Did he really think she was that easy to bully? "Your drool was about to splash on me..." Cecil glanced at her, clearly a look of caring for the intellectually challenged. Ivy held back a retort, pressing, "What's this about me being your fiancée?" "Didn't your grandfather tell you about our arranged marriage?" Cecil laid down his fork, his eyebrows lifting slightly, his demeanor calm. "What marriage?!" Ivy was baffled. If what this man said was true, why had her grandfather kept it from her? Even their first meeting was under the guise of meeting a business partner? Cecil, seeing her confusion, confirmed she was out of the loop, his eyes lifting slightly, "I suppose you, being the beanpole that no one wants, got dumped on me by your grandfather." Ivy's brow twitched, the chill in her eyes intensifying, "Say I'm a beanpole again!" "What's the matter?" Cecil glanced at her lightly, "Little beanpole." Ivy glared at Cecil, her breath turning frosty, "We've started a feud now. Wait until I clear this up, then I'll come settle the score with you!" With that, she shot him a "You just wait" look and turned to leave. She couldn't rest until she got to the bottom of this. How did she, a budding beauty, end up someone's fiancée? And to a toxic, flirtatious man at that! Ivy's irritation grew, but unexpectedly, she bumped into someone just a few steps away. Dizzy from the collision, Ivy staggered back, clutching her nose in pain. "Are you blind? Didn't you see someone was here?" Then, a too-familiar voice invaded her ears, making Ivy feel nauseated. It was Hugo. "Ivy?" Hugo, holding Elise tightly, smirked upon seeing Ivy, "Oh, it's you..." As if fearing contagion, Ivy stepped back in disgust, "What bad luck..." It seemed she hadn't consulted the almanac before stepping out, running into such despicable people. Hugo's brows lifted in disdain, glancing at Cecil beside Ivy, sneering, "Ivy, it seems you can't marry off without me, resorting to blind dating?" His arrogance was unbearable, as if Ivy truly couldn't marry off without him. A scumbag who betrayed her, and he has the audacity? Ivy's eyes narrowed, her laugh cold, "Do you lack mirrors at home, or are you delusional about your status? Me, the rightful Lady of The Ashford, was blind to see anything in you, and that was your last life's fortune!" With a scoff, she glanced at Elise, seemingly fragile in Hugo's arms, "What, seduced by this illegitimate daughter the Ashford won't acknowledge, and now your brain's degraded too?" Don't think she missed the smugness in Elise's eyes. If Elise truly harbored any remorse or a shred of guilt, why would she cozy up to Hugo right in front of her? At those words, a flash of jealousy flickered through Elise's eyes, quick to come and quick to go. The next moment, her eyes reddened, tears swirling, as she stepped forward to grasp at Ivy's sleeve, choking out, "Sister, it's all Elise's fault. Be angry, scold me, but please don't speak ill of brother Hugo. He truly loves you…" "Hah," Ivy scoffed, shaking off Elise with a cold laugh. "Oh, what a delicate 'lotus' you are, Elise. Love me? Spare me the nausea, please. Meeting you lot has been the misfortune of my lifetime!" Elise, shoved aside, staggered and fell back into Hugo's arms, her eyes reddening even more. Hugo immediately wrapped his arms around her, chastising Ivy, "Ivy! Mind your language!" Scoffing at this pitiful display, Ivy's lips curled into a sneer. "Oh, the drama unfolds, and how credulously it's received," she mocked, lifting her chin. "I haven't even finished. Elise, do you really think you've got the talent to steal what's mine? Laughable!" "You're only fit to pick up the trash I discard, like…" Her gaze sharpened, landing on Hugo, she slowly continued, "this piece of work you're clinging to!" At her words, Hugo's face turned the color of liver. Indeed, he was the one who pursued Ivy, doggedly wooing her despite repeated rejections. Apart from the Ashford family's status, Ivy's beauty and fiery spirit were irresistible. Few men could deny such allure. Having finally used his family's influence to make Ivy reluctantly acknowledge him, he never expected that after all this time, she wouldn't let him touch even the hem of her dress! And that was why his eyes turned to Elise, the meek and docile sister. Ivy? She was nothing but a woman too proud for her own good, daring to defy him time and again. With this thought, his resentment deepened, and he raised his hand to strike Ivy's face.