From Ruin, She Rose - Chapter 19: Chapter 19

Lucas's sharp question took the servant by surprise. After a brief pause, she collected herself and answered, "Ms. Harper has been rising earlier than the rest of us lately. She was already gone by this hour."
The servant kept her expression carefully blank, though inwardly she rolled her eyes. 'Typical—every time Ms. Harper tried to wake him or tucked a blanket over him, he'd shout at her and send her away.'
But she was a mere servant, and pointing out her boss's hypocrisy wasn't her place.
When Lucas demanded to know Emily's whereabouts, the servant could only shake her head and murmur apologetic denials.
A flicker of irritation ran through him. He couldn't fathom why Emily seemed determined to pick fights with him.
He pulled out his phone, ready to call her and unleash his frustration. But after scrolling through his contacts, he realized her number wasn't there.
At the top of the list was Lydia's name. Lucas vaguely recalled Emily's number once sitting in that spot before he'd blocked it long ago.
'It wasn't my fault,' he secretly told himself. 'Emily was always bossing me around, never giving me space. Cutting her off was the only way to find some peace.'
Emily had spent weeks trying to win Lucas back after he blocked her. She apologized, begged, and did everything she could to earn his forgiveness—but he refused to give in.
'So she realized begging wouldn't work, huh? Now she's pretending to move on, waiting for me to come crawling back instead?' Lucas clenched his jaw as realization struck.
His frown deepened, irritation twisting in his chest as he thought, 'Two years at St. Gabriel Reform Academy should've changed her, but she's only grown more manipulative.
'I'm not falling for this act. But Lydia has poured her heart into planning the welcome party, and she's made it clear she expected me to bring Emily. Disappointing her isn't an option.
'Fine. I'll call Emily, tell her about the party, and then block her again. No way am I letting her get what she wants.'
Lucas unblocked her number and dialed, teeth gritted.
He was ready to call her bluff, to throw her pathetic act right back in her face. The invitation would slip out casually, just another indifferent detail. But Emily didn't answer.
Instead, the line clicked over to a lifeless automated voice. "The number you have dialed is no longer in service."
The words Lucas had prepared lodged in his throat like a fist closing around his windpipe. He stood motionless, struck silent.
He tried again, stubbornly redialing, but only the same automated response greeted him.
Lucas stared at his phone. Emily had used that number for years—it couldn't just be disconnected.
Then the realization struck—she'd anticipated his call and blocked him deliberately, forcing him to make the first move. He grew even more convinced of her manipulations.
Lucas refused to indulge her, but he couldn't bear to let Lydia down.
Jaw clenched, he remained at home, his anger simmering as he planted himself on the couch to wait. The plan was clear in his mind—when Emily returned, he'd say his piece and put an end to her games for good.
The anger burned through him, keeping him alert long into the night.
Finally, the front door creaked open. Emily stepped inside, weary from the day, only to find Lucas rigid on the sofa, his glare sharp enough to cut.
She barely glanced his way. With a flicker of avoidance, she walked past without a word and headed toward her room.
Lucas's anger burned hotter. He sprang from the couch. "Stop right there."
Emily halted and turned toward him, her face unreadable. "What is it, Mr. Bennett?"
Her icy tone struck Lucas like a physical blow. "How dare you play dumb with me? I know exactly what game you're playing."
Emily stared up at him, genuine confusion in her eyes. She had deliberately avoided the Bennetts for weeks, and couldn't fathom what scheme he imagined she had.
Lucas's eyes hardened with cold conviction, the look of someone who'd pieced together every thread of her supposed deception.
"You cut us off and blocked my number just to force me to chase after you. Only someone as manipulative as you would try something so pathetic," he snapped.
Emily neither understood his accusations nor cared to debate them. "Believe what you will, Mr. Bennett. If we're finished here, I'm going to my room."
"Not yet." Lucas seized her arm with enough force to nearly knock her off balance.
Weariness and frustration finally broke Emily's restraint. "If you have something to say, spit it out. Or are you waiting for my blood to stain the floor again?" she demanded, furrowing her brow.
The scars on Emily's palms had faded to thin white lines after more than two weeks. She could manage daily tasks now, but the marks would likely never disappear completely.
Lucas's gaze dropped to her hands before he could stop himself, and suddenly he was back in that moment—the blood, the shattered glass, and her pale face.
"Are we really doing this again?" he snapped, irritation rising. "I never meant to hurt you. But none of this would've happened if you hadn't been tormenting Lydia in the first place. Must you always make such a fuss over every little thing?"
What he brushed off as a little thing had left her hands useless for days—unable to grip a fork, barely able to dress herself. A stranger might've apologized. But Lucas, someone she'd lived with for eighteen years, couldn't even muster that.
Even after all this time, the Bennett family's casual cruelty still surprised her. Emily met his gaze steadily. "Tell me, Mr. Bennett, what exactly did I do to piss you off this time?"
She was willing to correct whatever he pointed out, if only he'd leave her alone afterward.
"Don't play dumb," Lucas fired back. "You blocked my number to force me to come to you. This is just petty revenge because I blocked yours first, isn't it?"
Emily barked a humorless laugh. "Did you forget, Mr. Bennett? When you sent me to St. Gabriel's, they took everything down to my last hair tie. How exactly was I supposed to keep a phone? That number was purged after two years of inactivity."
Lucas hesitated, the realization dawning. His tone lost its edge. "You've been back months. Why didn't you give me your new number?"
"I don't have a phone, nor a new number. I didn't mean to force you to come to me," Emily said coldly. "Are we done here?"
Lucas straightened, the confrontation fading from his voice yet yielding no apology. "Enough of this. There's an event at the Hiltin Hotel at noon two days from now. You'll be there." The words fell like a judge's verdict, brooking no appeal.
Emily remembered when these invitations used to thrill her—when she'd been the Bennetts' golden girl trailing a flock of so-called friends.
Then Lydia appeared, and overnight, all those who had sworn eternal friendship to Emily flocked to the new favorite. They mocked her as "a scavenger squatting in a swan's palace" and "a barn hen dressed as a peacock."
After that, Emily lost all interest in parties, including those hosted by the Bennetts.