Chapter 38
Amanda and Beverly watched with a hint of envy when had Herbert ever been this deferential to anyone else? Only Alfred ever got this kind of treatment.
Alfred and Celeste arrived together.
Celeste carried two shopping bags, the spoils of a quick browse while waiting for Alfred.
He was dressed in a tailored suit, looking as if he’d come straight from a cocktail party, a faint scent of whiskey clinging to him.
“You ditched someone’s grand opening midway, but you didn’t skip a single drink. Make sure you eat something to sober up,” Celeste teased, pretending not to notice the others as she guided him to his seat.
Alfred rubbed his temples in silence and said nothing. The two of them settled in as
if no one else existed.
Herbert found himself at a loss for words. After a moment, he called Amanda and Beverly over and instructed the housekeeper to bring out the rest of the dishes.
The table was soon filled with an array of delicious food.
Noticing Alfred hadn’t touched his fork–eyes closed as if dozing–Herbert redirected his attention to Celeste, piling her plate as he spoke with feigned
concern.
“Mr. Alfred’s been drinking, Celeste. You should’ve told me earlier–I would’ve had the housekeeper prepare some broth to help him sober up.”
“I hear you’ve been doing well at Duncan Industries lately, though it’s a shame those projects haven’t seen much progress.”
“With Mr. Alfred here, maybe you should ask him for some advice?”
Every word was business, not a trace of genuine care.
Celeste was used to it by now.
But Alfred slowly opened his eyes, gently taking Celeste’s wrist.
“What’s wrong? Trouble at work?”
A gesture just intimate enough.
Celeste didn’t shy away; in fact, she let him hold her wrist and set a bowl of chicken
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Chapter 38
soup by his hand.
“It’s all because you’re holding up Duncan Industries‘ projects. Dad won’t scold you, so he takes it out on me.”
“Wha–That’s not what I meant at all…” Herbert blurted, panic–stricken.
Alfred let go of her wrist, his expression frosty.
“I only stalled those projects because you were too busy to go visit your grandfather. I didn’t expect it’d make things so difficult for you both at work and at home.”
Celeste arched an eyebrow. She clearly remembered those projects being held up long before she missed her visit to her grandfather. Alfred was lying without even blinking.
Resting her chin in her hand, she replied, “So, what now, Mr. Alfred? Planning to keep tripping me up?”
Her words were polite, but there was a hint of mischief in her tone.
Herbert held his breath–how dare she speak to Alfred like that!
Beverly, meanwhile, gave a cold laugh. Celeste was really getting ahead of herself, daring to talk back to Alfred?
“Sis, what are you saying? You and your husband are a team. I’m sure he didn’t mean to make things hard for you. Maybe it’s just because the Hopkins family doesn’t think much of us Duncans, and he’s stuck in the middle…”
“Whatever she says,” Alfred interrupted calmly.
Beverly’s face twisted in disbelief.
The formidable Mr. Alfred, being this gentle with Celeste! Why her?
Sensing Alfred was playing along with her act, Celeste found the courage to put on a troubled look and speak up.
“But honestly, even though I’m the Duncan family’s eldest daughter, I don’t actually have any shares in the company. Whether the projects go through or not, I just get a commission–no dividends for me…”
Herbert’s eyelid twitched–she was clearly refusing to deal with the problem. He jumped in quickly.
“What are you talking about! Don’t forget, I included a three percent stake in the
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company as part of your wedding dowry!”
Amanda’s eyes widened in shock. No one had mentioned shares before!
Celeste went on, “Shares are one thing, but all these years as Miss Celeste, my parents barely gave me any spending money…”
“Two million. Spend it however you like,” Herbert interrupted, eager to appease her.
“And my mother’s memorial,” Celeste added, her gaze sharp as it landed on Amanda. “She’s gone now, and I already feel like an outsider. If her memorial isn’t placed in the family chapel, I… I don’t even know if I can call myself a true Duncan.”
Amanda’s grip on her fork whitened her knuckles, fury flashing in her eyes.
Tension hung in the air.
Alfred finally spoke, voice cool and unyielding.
“My mother–in–law’s memorial–doesn’t she deserve a place in the Duncan family chapel?”
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