Chapter 110

TAMMIE POV.

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And why would I care about her?”

“The woman I came with today was injured by me,” he explained, his tone almost defensive. “I thought you might be wondering who she is.”

I shrugged, feigning disinterest. “Not really. But go on, if it’ll make you feel better.”

He exhaled, his gaze shifting briefly to the floor. “I met her a few days ago. It wasn’t planned. I... accidentally hit her with my car.”

I blinked, taken aback for a moment. “You hit her with your car?”

“Yes,” he said quickly. “It was an accident. She was crossing the street, and I didn’t see her in time. She’s been recovering, and I felt responsible. That’s why I brought her here…to keep an eye on her.”

I stared at him, my expression carefully neutral. “So you hit a woman with your car, and now she’s your responsibility?”

“She doesn’t have anyone else,” he said, his voice softer now. “I just... I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “The wrong idea? Richard, do you honestly think I care about what you do or who you bring here?”

He frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I thought you might, considering...”

“Considering what?” I interrupted, my voice sharper now. “That we’re married? Let’s not pretend this is some great love story, Richard.”

His jaw tightened, and I could see the frustration building in his eyes. “Tammie, I know you don’t love me,” he said quietly. “You’ve made that clear from the beginning. But I was hoping...”

I rolled my eyes, cutting him off. “Hoping for what? That I’d suddenly fall for you? Richard, this isn’t a fairy tale. You’re not my prince charming, and I’m not your damsel in distress.”

His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “I just wanted to be honest with you,” he said finally. “About Alisha. About everything.”

I sighed, straightening up from the wall. “Well, thank you for your honesty. But let me be honest with you, too.”

I stepped closer, meeting his gaze head-on. “I don’t care who you flirt with or bring into this house. You could have a dozen women like Alisha hanging around, and it wouldn’t matter to me. Do you know why?”

He shook his head slightly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Because this marriage is nothing more than a contract,” I said, my voice cold and steady.

“We both know that. I agreed to this arrangement for my own reasons, and love wasn’t one of them. So spare me the explanations, Richard. They’re unnecessary.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but I held up a hand to stop him. “And one more thing,” I added. “Don’t waste your time hoping for something that isn’t going to happen. It’ll only hurt you in the end.”

I turned on my heel, walking away before he could say another word. As I re-entered the living room, I felt the weight of his gaze on my back, but I didn’t look back.

MAX POV.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, gripping the edge of the sink tightly. The blood was gone, washed away with cold water that still dripped from my lips.

My face was pale, but the antidote had done its job. The coughing had stopped, and the searing pain in my chest had subsided. Nadia had come through for me, albeit begrudgingly.

I leaned closer to the mirror, studying my reflection. My eyes were bloodshot, but the faint smirk that played on my lips told me I was ready. Ready to face the man who had been pounding on the restroom door like a lunatic. Mr. Jacob.

The thought of him made my blood boil. The way he looked at me, always suspicious, always scheming. He thought he was so clever, but I played my cards well today.

The poison apple trick had been risky, but it worked. Mr. Kenneth trusted me now more than ever, and Mr. Jacob? He was left chasing shadows.

Another loud knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Max!" came Mr. Jacob's voice, sharp and impatient. "I know you're in there. Open this door!"

I smirked, wiping my mouth one last time. “He’s going to regret this,” I muttered to myself. Straightening my jacket, I took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

The look on his face was priceless. His eyes widened in shock as he took a step back, clearly not expecting to see me standing there so... composed.

“Mr. Jacob,” I said smoothly, flashing him a smile that I knew would unnerve him. “Is there a reason you’re banging on the door like that? You startled me.”

He recovered quickly, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve been knocking for a while, Max. What were you doing in there?”

“Washing my hands,” I replied, feigning innocence. “Or is that a crime now?”

His gaze flickered to my face, searching for any sign of weakness. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the doubt and suspicion brewing.

He thought he had me cornered, that the poison would have done its job by now. But here I was, standing tall and perfectly fine.

“You were in there for quite some time,” he said slowly, his tone laced with accusation.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Mr. Jacob, are you implying that I was hiding something? Because if you are, you’re mistaken.”

His lips thinned, and I could tell he didn’t believe me. “You ate the apple,” he said, his voice low.

“Yes, I did,” I replied, crossing my arms. “And as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. Maybe you should stop jumping to conclusions.”

He stepped closer, his eyes boring into mine. “You poisoned that apple, Max. Don’t think for a second that I don’t know what you’re up to.”

I raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Poisoned? That’s a serious accusation, Mr. Jacob. Do you have any proof?”

“You and Nadia were seen injecting something into the fruit,” he snapped. “Don’t play games with me.”

I laughed, a cold, mocking sound. “Seen by whom? You? Forgive me, but your word isn’t exactly credible.”

His jaw tightened, and I knew I had struck a nerve. “You won’t get away with this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I leaned in slightly, my smile turning into a smirk. “Get away with what, exactly? Eating an apple to prove my loyalty to Mr. Kenneth? You’re grasping at straws, Jacob. It’s pathetic.”

For a moment, we stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. I could see the frustration simmering beneath his composed facade, the realization that he had lost this round.

“Well,” I said, straightening up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to. Unlike you, I don’t have time for baseless accusations.”

I stepped past him, brushing my shoulder against his as I walked away. I didn’t need to look back to know he was still standing there, stunned and seething.

As I made my way back to the living room, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Today, I outplayed him. But the game was far from over.