Hailey furrowed her brow and quickly grabbed a thick pillow to prop up Travis's hand, making it easier to tend to.
She gently held his wrist.
Two quiet gasps echoed through the room. Heads turned. Even Travis's mother, Thalia, paused mid-conversation. The butler's face stayed calm, but her sharp eyes watched everything — the trembling hands, the stiff backs, the people holding their breath.
Hailey dabbed alcohol onto the wound. Travis's hand twitched from the sting.
She froze for a second. After what she'd seen — the way he smashed his fist into the car window — she didn't want that anger aimed at her.
Her heart pounded.
Don't provoke him, she reminded herself.
So, swallowing her pride, she knelt in front of him.
Gasps rippled through the room again.
The Blake family had always known about Travis's quirks. His quiet, stubborn mysophobia. His refusal to look weak, no matter what. His ex-girlfriend couldn't stand how cold he was — how he wouldn't even let her tend to him.
And now here Hailey was — the nobody who lost her status the second she married into this family — kneeling, tending his wounds, like her life depended on it.
Maybe it did.
She leaned down and gently blew on the cut, easing the sting of the alcohol.
Travis didn't move. His eyes stayed on her — cold, unreadable. Then, slowly, he closed them, as if to say Do whatever you want. I don't care.
The room filled with whispers.
Is it because of Calvin?
Does he pity her?
Or… is it something else?
No one noticed that when Hailey crouched, her loose neckline slipped slightly. If Travis so much as tilted his head, he could see right inside.
His lashes fluttered, his gaze dropping — and for a second, the image from last night flashed in his mind.
The heat. Her soft skin. That moment of weakness.
But now wasn't the time for those thoughts. His jaw tightened, and he forced his eyes away.
Is this woman careless… or is she dangerous?
Hailey, lost in concentration, missed all of it. Her world had shrunk to the cut on his hand. She carefully disinfected the wound and, without thinking, blew on it again to soothe the sting.
The murmurs behind her grew louder.
But Hailey didn't hear them.
She wasn't thinking about the crowd. Or the servants. Or even Travis's icy stare.
She was thinking of one thing — survival.
And as her fingers hovered over the gauze, her heart whispered the question she didn't dare say out loud:
How long… before I lose control of this game?
In Hailey's opinion, the minor wounds didn't need bandages. She was more concerned about Travis's bones, but the way he moved his hand reassured her they weren't broken. Wrapping gauze around his knuckles seemed pointless — and awkward.
She took a steadying breath, forcing down her fear of his temper. "I think these are just surface wounds," she said quietly. "Bandaging them might slow down the healing."
A tense murmur rippled through the room. Some of the onlookers exchanged anxious glances, waiting for Travis to explode.
Thalia's sharp gaze drifted to Hailey, cool and unreadable. Her curiosity was clear — both about Hailey's connection to Calvin… and what the girl would do next.
Travis's eyes opened, cool and steady as they landed on Hailey. His stare made her hesitate. Did he believe her? Or was he questioning her concern altogether?
She faltered for a moment, then admitted softly, "I… I'm not sure what to do next."
Her words sounded simple, but everyone knew how the Blake family viewed weakness — especially from someone like her.
Back home, a scraped knee only needed soap and water. But here? In this house, appearances were everything.
Travis's cold gaze lingered on her for a beat longer. She could feel his dismissal like a slap — he didn't believe she cared. Not that Travis Blake cared whether anyone worried about him.
The butler stepped forward with a practiced smile. "Master, since the young lady's unsure, shall I handle it?"
Travis glanced down at his hand. His expression didn't change, but his words made the crowd stir. "It's fine. Disinfection is enough."
The room fell silent for a moment. No anger. No drama. Just Travis's casual indifference.
A few faces fell, disappointed the scene hadn't turned explosive.
Hailey was mildly surprised… but mostly relieved. The wounds were minor. Drama wasn't worth it.
After the incident, Hailey remained at Blake Manor, releasing Rowena Harver before Calvin's funeral.
The moment Rowena returned home, she stormed toward Hailey, her eyes blazing.
"You bring misfortune! The second you set foot in this house, Calvin died!"
The slap came so fast, Hailey barely saw it. Her cheek stung, her head snapping to the side.
This family's full of lunatics, she thought grimly.
But she didn't cower. Her voice stayed steady, biting. "Even if I bring bad luck… your family forced me to marry him to change his." She met Rowena's eyes. "I never asked for this."
The room froze.
Gasps filled the air.
How could she speak to her mother-in-law like that?
Thalia's expression remained unreadable, her eyes cold, calculating.
Across the room, Mary Hewitt — the third lady of the Blake family — smirked, unable to hide her laughter. She'd always looked down on Rowena for being childless, and now, seeing Rowena humiliated was too entertaining.
Rowena's rage snapped.
Screaming, she lunged at Hailey, hand raised for another slap.
Hailey instinctively backed away, unwilling to take another hit. But she couldn't fight back. No one in this house would stand with her if she did.
So, she ducked her head and turned to escape. But after a few steps, she collided with something solid, nearly knocking her off balance.
A hand caught her waist.
Hailey clutched at the fabric of Travis's shirt, steadying herself — then froze, realizing who she'd bumped into.
Rowena, close behind, grabbed Hailey's hair and yanked hard. Hailey yelped, her scalp burning.
Rowena's hand shot up again, ready to strike.
Travis's arm moved fast.
He caught Rowena's wrist, his grip firm but measured, stopping her mid-swing.
"Enough," Travis said, his voice low and sharp.
Rowena froze, stunned by the sudden intervention.
Her grip loosened. Hailey seized the moment, slipping free, smoothing her hair, heart pounding.
The room went dead silent.
For the first time, everyone realized — this messy little outsider might not be so easy to break after all.