Facade of Love

Chapter 22

Chapter 22 He Protected Her

Charles frowned, saying, “Ms. Moore, all the rooms in this house are the same size. The room you want to stay in belongs to Mrs. Young. Her belongings are already there. You’re making this difficult

for us.”

“Mrs. Young, huh? You say her name as if you’re so familiar with her” Moore scoffed. “I want to stay in that room. If you don’t agree to my request, I’ll have Madam Young come over to talk to you.”

With that, she made a move to leave.

Charles, uncertain of what to do, instinctively blocked her. Seeing this, Moore became even more arrogant. “So? Are you stopping me from leaving the room?”

Charles could not make the decision but he did not want to offend her either. He looked visibly

troubled.

I leaned against the wooden door with arms folded and spoke softly, “Let her have it.”

Hearing my voice, both turned to look at me. Charles seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Moore was blatantly arrogant. She could not be bothered to put on an act with me when

Idris was not around, and said, “I’m certainly settled down in the Youngs‘ residence. Yvette, what does it matter if you’re pregnant? Because of your dirty past, Madam Young is disgusted by you and

doesn’t want you to tarnish this house’s name.”

She knew precisely how to rub salt into my wounds, but some wounds were so deep that they had numbed over time. I remained expressionless and said indifferently, “If you like this old manor so

much, it’s yours. However, everyone knows Yvette Scott is the Youngs‘ true daughter–in–law. As for you, you’re just a child–bearing machine kept in the Youngs‘ inner circle. Do you know what women like you were called in ancient times?”

I leaned in closer, smiling faintly. “You’re not even good enough to be a concubine.”

“You…” Moore was quick–tempered and got even angrier when she could not win with words. She merely stomped her feet and glared at me.

She looked more and more like a clown to me.

Apparently angered, she suddenly pushed me when I least expected it, saying sullenly, “Yvette, go to

hell!”

The steps outside the house were not high, but falling down them would still hurt.

Luckily, I instinctively grabbed the door frame to steady myself.

For a moment, my suppressed anger flared up, fueled by her actions. I narrowed my eyes, grabbed her, and pushed her to the edge of the steps, shouting, “Moore Scott, don’t push your luck!”

She was wearing seven–centimeter heels, clearly understanding that if I pushed her, the child in her

womb would take a hard hit.

She paled but still spoke with a threatening tone, “Try and hurt me again if you have the guts, Yvette!”

“Heh!” I scoffed and shoved her a bit, causing her to scream but retained her defiant expression. Seeing her like this, I wondered when she had become so fearless.

The next second, I was pulled away by someone. I almost fell, but Charles, who had been by my side, steadied me swiftly.

“Mrs. Young, are you alright?” Charles asked as he held me up.

I steadied myself and shook my head, then looked back at Idris, who was holding Moore. His face was ashen, and he seemed to be somewhat angry.

His rare display of anger somewhat startled me.

Before I could say anything, Moore started ranting, “Iddy, did you see how much Yvette hates me? She almost pushed me down those steps! I’m pregnant, and she knows how serious that would’ve been.”

I frowned, silently watching her performance.

Idris looked at me, his face tense, seemingly controlling his emotions. He spoke in a low voice, “If you have grievances, take them up with me.”

These words were spoken lightly, but they hurt like the stab of a knife.

He would rather harm himself than let the woman he loved get hurt even a little?

I could not help but chuckle, “Take them up with you? Are you being serious, Mr. Young?”

Idris pursed his l*ps, his voice cold and restrained as he uttered one word, “Yes!”

“Fine!” I scoffed and walked back into the living room. I grabbed a fruit knife from the kitchen and quickly returned to the courtyard. Without a second thought, I lunged at Idris‘ chest with the knife.

“Mrs. Young!”

“Don’t!”

Shouts filled the air. Idris remained still, letting me stab at him. But the knife never reached him, as

Moore had blocked it.

“Ah!” Moore lept in front of Idris as the knife pierced her shoulder. Her scream threw the courtyard

into chaos.

Everything happened so quickly. Charles rushed to find a doctor while Idris carried the injured Moore

to the bedroom.

Before leaving, he looked at me with eyes as dark as the abyss. It was an inscrutable gaze, cold and

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