Chapter 2: Let Her Come and Beg My Forgiveness

Effortlessly shrugging off Tristan's grip, Ivy's lips twisted into a frosty smile, "Sorry, I call my own shots. Black or white, right or wrong, I know the score. And as I said, if you want me to let her off the hook, she can come and grovel for my forgiveness herself." Ivy's words were deliberate, her gaze icy, daring anyone to challenge her. Yet, paradoxically, her smile, sweet with dimples, was disarmingly charming. Tristan, trembling with fury, seemed on the verge of an apoplexy, his voice thick with rage, "You... scoundrel!" But alas, by then, Ivy had already turned and left, leaving nothing but her chilling silhouette. Behind her, Tristan continued to bellow, "If it weren't for your negligence with your fiancé, Elise wouldn't be in this mess!" "It's because of you she even met Hugo, that unreliable man who's ruined Elise. You share the blame for this debacle!" "Father, do you see what your granddaughter has turned into? Won’t you discipline her?" Sorry, but Grandpa had just praised her for a job well done. Ivy, harboring a cold sneer for her father's blatant favoritism and idiocy, had grown indifferent over the years. No declaration of hers would come to fruition, not with the Ashford family's backing. "Alright, alright! Such a good daughter of mine!" Tristan, seeing Ivy disappear at the corridor's end and knowing his efforts were futile, stormed out of Ashford Manor, leaving a deafening silence in his wake. Master Ashford, with a look of mixed emotions, made his way to Ivy's room. "Ivy, accompany your grandfather today to meet someone; consider it a breath of fresh air." "Who might that be?" Ivy, already worn thin by Tristan's antics, showed little interest. "A business associate." Master Ashford's eyes crinkled mischievously, a slyness in his gaze. Ivy felt a shiver down her spine under his scrutiny, her alarm bells ringing. Was there something more to this meeting? Her guard went up. "Grandfather, can I perhaps not..." Before she could finish, Master Ashford's menacing look had her promptly zip her lips. Ivy felt like biting someone out of frustration. "Grandpa, can we not do the whole solemn act...?" Master Ashford's face wrinkled up with his smile, clearly amused, "Go change into something else... no, allow me to pick something for you!" Ivy: "..." After a moment, in the bedroom. She looked down at her dress, which seemed to exude an ethereal charm constantly, and couldn't help but twitch at the corners of her mouth. Anyone would think she was off to get hitched! "Grandpa, are you sure... it's just a business associate we're meeting?" Ivy felt something was off as they sat in the car, getting an eerie chill. Master Ashford glared, "What, you think your grandpa would sell you off?" Well, he wasn't wrong. He didn't sell her, but he sure left her in the lurch! "Dear granddaughter, your grandpa suddenly feels a bit unwell, I'll have to trouble you..." Right at the restaurant's entrance, as soon as Ivy got out of the car, Master Ashford perfected the art of ditching with a swift door slam. Leaving nothing but the smoking tailpipe of the car. So... he just ran off? Ivy stood dumbfounded at the restaurant's entrance. "Blind date?" A cold voice interrupted her stupor. Blind date? What blind date? She looked up to meet the gaze of the man before her, his features strikingly handsome in a dazzling sort of way. He was stunning! She was at a loss for words. By the time Ivy collected herself, the man, Cecil Warrington, holding a photograph, seemingly comparing it with her, then uttered the nearly infuriating remark, "You've overdone the beauty filter." "..." "I think you're the one who's severely vision impaired!" Ivy retorted with a cold smile, "I don't need filters for my photos!" Handsome but tactless. She was already in a foul mood, and this man seemed keen on making it worse. Yet, recalling Grandpa's odd behavior and the man's pretentious demeanor, she guessed the bitter truth. She was probably duped into this blind date by her grandpa... Cecil's eyebrows quirked up sharply, "So vain?" "Sir, since we're strangers, I'd appreciate if you could keep your unsolicited opinions to yourself." Ivy narrowed her eyes, clearly not interested in further conversation. "Strangers?" Cecil scoffed, turned, and started to walk away. Noticing she wasn't following, he glanced back, challenging her with a look, "Scared to come?" Ivy raised an eyebrow, scoffing, "Trying to provoke me?" But it worked like a charm on her. Hoisting her cumbersome skirt, she hurried after the man. They navigated through the restaurant, arriving at a table set above a swimming pool, its surface shimmering under the warm, orange lights, surrounded by roses and fragrant air. This man, it seemed, had put effort into this blind date setup. Just as Ivy was mentally drafting her review, she found her chin abruptly seized, tilting her head up. Cecil's sharp gaze surveyed her, a half-smirk playing on his lips, casually remarking, "Stop looking; it wasn't set up for you." Was he too dragged here against his will for a blind date? Regardless, she thought, if he dared to mess with her, he wouldn't get off easily. Ivy turned her head away from his grasp, chuckling lightly, "Sir, please keep your hands to yourself, or I might accuse you of harassment." Ivy wasn't fond of being dominated or controlled. "You haven't figured it out yet?" Cecil glanced at her, nodding, "Well, it's not too late to learn... you're my fiancée." At that, Ivy nearly choked, her ears must have deceived her. Fiancée? Is this some kind of joke? Cecil watched her face, a masterclass in astonishment, struggling to keep his smile in check. "What, you really didn't know?" Ivy's face darkened to the point of dripping water, grinding her teeth, "You can mess around with food, but not words. Do you know what happens when you mess with me?" Cecil's eyes narrowed slightly, a dark gleam flickering within as he stared pointedly at her.