Alexander furrowed his brows, and as though lightning had struck his mind, a series of thoughts flashed through his head...

He was clear that Isabelle had been vomiting that morning, but he had simply assumed that she had gastric problems. He had even forced her to visit the hospital, but after she entered the car, she had received a call from Mrs. Williams regarding James...

After that day, her vomiting seemed to have subsided, so he assumed that she was getting better and had calmed down a little...

On hindsight, Isabelle never seemed to have gastric problems, the nausea was because of the pregnancy and when she had a miscarriage, the nausea stopped as well.

"Mr. Smith?" Madam Mary looked at Alexander, who stood by the stairs in silence, his gaze focused on the lamp in the living room. He looked to be deep in thought.

When he came back to his senses, there wasn't much expression on his face. In his usual calm, frosty voice, he replied, "Forget it, heat some milk for Mrs. Smith, she just ate an hour ago, she's probably still full."

"Yes, Mr. Smith."

Alexander nodded.

Madam Mary walked back to the kitchen, and Alexander's gaze fell back to the lamp.

When Madam Mary heated some milk and brought it out of the kitchen, she noticed that Alexander was still standing by the stairs. She was mesmerized for a heartbeat. The dim warm lights from above the stairs scattered across his face, blurring his features.

She froze slightly. "Mr. Smith? Why are you still here?"

"Yea," he replied faintly before looking towards the milk in her hands. "Give it to me."

Madam Mary hurriedly brought the cup over.

Alexander turned and walked back up to the bedroom where Isabelle was cuddled in, watching television. When she heard the door open, she took a quick look before focusing her attention back on the television.

Alexander walked to the bed and passed the milk over. "Madam Mary just heated it."

Isabelle looked up at him, her gaze staying a while longer, seemingly in a struggle. In the end, she reached out and hugged the cup of milk with both hands, taking small sips as she watched the television.

Alexander didn't leave. He stood by the bed, his gaze on Isabelle.

Then he suddenly asked, "Have you been sleeping badly?"

"No.." Isabelle was confused by his random question, she shook her head and turned to look at him. "Why?"

"Nothing," he replied faintly before taking two steps back to lean on the vanity table. After a while, he asked again, "I heard that you brought some swallow's nest back home?"

Isabelle took another sip of milk before nodding.

"You like it? There isn't much left, I'll get Madam Mary to buy more tomorrow," Alexander said without emotion in his voice.

Alexander seemed to be trying to talk to her... Even though Isabelle had been upset and had made up her mind to ignore him, she could no longer suppress herself after all his kind acts.

"It's fine," Isabelle rejected decisively, but when she saw Alexander's lips press together, her heart clenched slightly. She held onto the cup of milk a little tighter, her eyes lowered. After a moment of silence, she spoke again. "I don't really like the swallow's nest; it was given to me by Mrs. Williams a few days ago when I visited her house. I gave a portion to Camila and kept the rest."

The swallow's nest was indeed given by Mrs. Williams... when he was downstairs, he had suspected, but he needed a confirmation from Isabelle, besides, she mentioned that she didn't have trouble sleeping.

Just then, a wild thought entered his mind. He wasn't sure if it was true, but ever since he was young, he didn't have a good relationship with Mrs. Williams, hence he might be over thinking.

Alexander remained silent, nodding towards Isabelle before replying causally, "Oh..."

"Yea," Isabelle agreed faintly, not knowing how to continue.

Silence fell on the room. Isabelle continued to drink her milk, and when she finished, Alexander reached out his arm to take cup. He then removed the pillow she had used for back rest, then faintly said, " Sleep."

Isabelle didn't reply, she laid down silently and shut her eyes. She could vaguely feel Alexander standing by the door, looking down at her for a while before leaving the room.

Alexander placed the empty cup in the kitchen basin and retrieved a paper towel to wipe his wet hands. Instead of returning to the bedroom, he walked to the side of the kitchen to send his assistant a text, [Come to York Garden.]

After less than a minute, his assistant replied. Alexander placed the phone back into his pocket and returned to the bedroom as though nothing had happened.

Isabelle laid on the bed, seemingly asleep. He switched off the main lights, leaving only a tiny night light on, then walked to the edge of the bed and covered her with a blanket before dimming the night light, after which he walked to the balcony.

Isabelle was still awake. The bedroom was silent, and even though Alexander had tried to keep quiet, she could still hear and sense him when he was close, or when he had walked away. When he had tucked her in, her entire body was tensed up. After a seemingly long time, she finally entered deep sleep.

Alexander's phone vibrated, and when he reached for it, he saw a text from his assistant. He looked out the window and saw a car arriving. He turned, then before leaving the room, he took one last look at Isabelle.

Downstairs, he walked to the kitchen and removed a bottle of bird's nest before walking out of the house.

His assistant was already waiting for him.

Deep in the night, there was barely any sound. Alexander placed his finger on his lips to signal for his assistant to keep quiet as he led them away from the house.

Only when they reached the outside of the front yard did Alexander stop. He passed the bottle of swallow's nest over to his assistant and instructed, "Check the contents. Remember to find a trustworthy doctor and don't let anyone find out, inform me immediately when the results are out."

~*~

In the past, Isabelle would feel weak and exhausted whenever she was on her period, but it was never as bad as she was feeling right now, it was as though she was having a grave illness.

Her entire body was lifeless and weak, and she spent a huge amount of time in deep sleep. Every time she woke up, Alexander would be in the room, either giving her drinks or feeding her meals.

Initially, she had been confused by his warm and caring act and didn't know how to react, but gradually, she got used to him.

After about five days, she had planned to return back to filming, but the director received a call and pushed back the filming by two more days.

Alexander seemed to be on a long holiday. He didn't leave the house and would stay in the mansion with her. Even though Isabelle was still a little bothered by his actions on the day of his birthday, they still managed to have a peaceful relationship that wasn't as intimate as before.

On the seventh day, she became less exhausted, even her afternoon naps were starting to decrease in duration. When she went to sleep at 1.30 pm, she would wake up by 2 pm. When she woke up, she would look around the bedroom instinctively and when she couldn't see Alexander, she would feel a hint of disappointment.

In the past, she would be able to see him in the bedroom whenever she woke up...

Isabelle became moody instantly. She put on her slippers and began to head downstairs. After scanning the entire living room, she still couldn't find Alexander.

Madam Mary was watching the television in the living room when she saw Isabelle. She stood up immediately, asking, "Mrs. Smith, you're awake?"

"Yea," Isabelle murmured, walking to the water cooler to get a cup of water. She took a sip before putting the cup down and asking, "Where's Alexander?"

"Mr. Smith? Isn't he upstairs?" Madam Mary asked with doubt. She then added, "After he took his meal, he went up and did not come back down."

"Oh," Isabelle replied, returning back upstairs. She went to the bathroom in the bedroom, then entered the changing room, but Alexander was nowhere to be seen. Hence, she walked to the study room.

It wasn't locked. She turned the knob lightly, pushing the door open...

While Isabelle was asleep, Alexander had received a text from his assistant, ["Mr. Smith, the results are out.]

Alexander stared at the text, starting to feel anxious. He stared at the sleeping Isabelle for a moment before turning to walk out of the bedroom to his study room to call his assistant.

The man picked up instantly. Alexander didn't say anything, but his assistant was already used to how their conversations worked. He started to report the news, "Mr. Smith, I found a trustworthy friend from college to do the check and the next day the results were out, but my friend was overseas and he just came back. I went to find him this afternoon."

"Yea," Alexander replied, indicating that he was listening.

The assistant didn't jump straight to the point, but instead asked him, "Mr. Smith, where did you get the swallow's nest?"

Alexander frowned, starting to feel uneasy.

The assistant remembered that the night that Alexander had gotten him to investigate the contents of the swallow's nest, he had made sure to remind him not to let the Williams family find out, hence he asked, "Mr. Smith, is this from the Williams family?"

Alexander remained silent.

His assistant seemed to have received a reaffirmation since he continued, "Did Miss Davis eat the swallow's nest?"

Alexander seemed to have had his suspicions confirmed. In a hoarse voice drenched with anxiety and menace, he asked, "Are there sleeping pills in the swallow's nest?"

The assistant remained silent. Alexander didn't rush him, waiting patiently. After a long while, the man spoke again. "Mr. Smith, there are indeed sleeping pills in the swallow's nest. There isn't a lot, but it has a calming component that in large quantities would cause the user to be unconscious."

Alexander didn't have the ability to figure out the truth at first glance, but when Madam Mary had mentioned that she had taken the swallow's nest from the set, he started to suspect and had tried to pry the information from Isabelle. Rather than to call it suspicion, it would be more appropriate to name it intuition. It was the same intuition that he had felt the night that his and Isabelle's child had died. That day, he had felt uneasy and weird, hence deciding to return back to York Garden.

Because of that same intuition, he had gotten his assistant to check the swallow's nest.

He had thought that the results would be out by the second day, but it had dragged on for such a long time. He didn't rush his assistant the entire time, for deep down he probably already had an answer, he just wasn't in the right mind to accept it yet.

In the end, it was exactly what he had guessed, there were sleeping pills in the swallow's nest.

Sleeping pills....

Alexander's fingers started to tremble more and more. His lips pressed into a thin line, not able to say a word.

His eyes became bloodshot, turning a deep shade of red, a menace tainting his face. His breathing grew more labored, and he snarled, "She killed my child..."

The assistant seemed to have wanted to say something, but the moment he heard Alexander, a shiver ran through his spine. He asked, "Mr. Smith?"

Alexander didn't hear his assistant, he just continually repeated in a tone soaked through with menace, "Killed my child..."

His assistant finally heard what Alexander was saying, but he couldn't process what he was implying, hence he asked, "Mr. Smith, you mean that after Miss Davis took the swallow's nest from the Williams family she had a miscarriage?"

Miscarriage, the word woke Alexander instantly. His usual demeanor was long gone. He was agitated, hurriedly hanging up on the call and smashing the phone against the wall.

There was a painting on the wall, and he hit it with his throw, causing the painting to break into pieces.

A eerie darkness clouded his face, he turned to look at the broken painting without any emotion. His chest was ablaze with a fiery flame that was burning his insides.

He had a strong urge to run to Williams family and tear every member into pieces, to thoroughly destroy every one of them.

He was always aware that the Williams family hated him because of the mistakes made by his mother, but how could they go after his child?

Once when he was young, Alexander had blamed his father and hated the Williams family, but never with the intensity that he was feeling right now.

The more he thought of them, the more angry he got. His hatred was like a dagger, digging deep into his heart, as though he was going to die from pain alone. In the end, he seemed to have lost control, for he raised his leg and smashed the coffee table. The glass shattered everywhere, but he still wasn't satisfied, he continued to vent his anger, tossing and smashing everything in sight.

The standing lamp, computer, documents, table lamp... Everything in sight was smashed, even the study table, the cupboard, and the books in it were all strewn across the floor.

Alexander smashed till there was nothing left in the standing in the room. Only then did he stop, panting uncontrollably, his eyes bloodshot as he scanned the surrounding wall paper. In that instance, he felt as though all his energy had left his body, and he laid down on the floor.

There were many broken pieces on the floor, cutting into his skin. Blood dripped everywhere, but he couldn't feel anything and continued to lie on the ground.

As silence fell, his anger seem to dissipate, leaving a deep sense of self blame and sorrow.

If it wasn't his child in her stomach, she might not have been hurt in such a way.

If he had been more insistent when he got her to visit the doctor, he would have known of her pregnancy before them and could have put preventive measures in place.

He didn't find out early enough, failing to protect her and their child. It was him who had let her down.

It was all his fault, his birth being the start of the mistake. When he was three years old, he had gotten leukemia and his mother had knelt outside Williams family's mansion, begging them to save his life, and from then on, his life was deeply entangled with the life of the Williams family.

He promised to love her with all his ability, how did he bring her harm?

Alexander's breathing became irregular, his blood pumping fast and strong. Even though it was autumn, he felt icy cold, his whole body no better than ice.

But no matter how much his body hurt, it could not be on par with the pain he felt in his heart... That child was just two months old—he hadn't even formed fully—yet he was taken away from this world so silently... Isabelle was a child that they had known since young, how could they harm her?

How ruthless must they be to have done such a thing?

Alexander seemed to have lost all sense, only feeling a coppery taste in his mouth, forcing itself out. He couldn't seem to hold it in any longer, coughing a mouthful of blood.