Richard turned his head and spotted Queenie, looking like a mess, and immediately his brows knitted together. Then he looked at me, as though waiting for someone—anyone—to give him a reasonable explanation. Eleanor jumped in before anyone else could speak. "Richard, look at her! She hasn't even married into this family, and she's already throwing her weight around. Yesterday, when she got back, she was picking on Queenie the whole time. "And today? She slept in and lazed around all morning. When Willa tried to serve her soup, she knocked it over on purpose—then she insisted that Queenie be the one to clean it up. Since when is Queenie our maid? Why should she be waiting on Rosaline?" At that moment, Willa walked in carrying an ice pack. Even though Eleanor clearly found Queenie's dirty clothes repulsive, she jumped right into her role as the loving mother. She wiped Queenie's face gently, then placed the ice pack on the reddened patch of skin as she cooed "sweetheart" over and over, playing the part like she was truly the victim. "Rosie, what exactly happened here?" Richard asked, shifting his gaze to me. My expression remained calm as I replied softly, "Queenie suddenly offered to bring me soup this morning. But she lost her balance." I left out the details. Just the facts. I didn't want to stir the pot further in front of Richard. It was my way of giving Queenie and her mother a little dignity. "That's a lie!" Queenie shrieked. "You told me to do it, and when you didn't like the way I served it, you dumped it on me! Grandpa, she's not fit to marry into our family!" "If you don't like us, Rosaline," Eleanor added, fanning the flames, "you could just say it. You don't need to torment us in the shadows." I couldn't help but laugh at their performance. Looking Queenie in the eye, I said, "Willa was right there the whole time. Maybe we should ask her what she saw." "Willa?" Richard turned to her, gesturing for an answer. Willa's face tightened. She lowered her head, avoiding both Richard's and my eyes. Her voice came out hesitant. "It ... it was Ms. Rosaline who told Ms. Queenie to do it." I felt a flicker of disappointment but stayed silent. Of course I noticed the look Eleanor gave Willa. The maid had worked in the household for decades. She'd been by Eleanor's side far longer than she'd known me. Even if she wanted to help me, she wouldn't dare stand against Eleanor. Eleanor's expression turned smug as she clutched Richard's arm. "See, Richard? You heard her. Rosaline is just awful. Thank goodness we saw her true colors now—Caden cannot be tricked by an Omega like her!" "Rosie, is that true?" Richard asked, frowning deeply. I didn't want to put either him or Willa in a difficult spot, so I sighed lightly and lifted my chin. "Richard, isn't there a security camera in the living room?" Those words wiped the smugness right off Eleanor and Queenie's faces. Queenie's grip on the ice pack even tightened visibly—none of it escaped my notice. "If there's a recording," I said coolly, "then everything will be clear. Whether I did something wrong or someone's making things up, the footage won't lie." "Richard, wait—" Eleanor tried to stop him. As Alpha, Richard had seen everything—the panic in their eyes, the shift in their posture. He didn't miss a thing. He struck his cane against the floor, shooting Eleanor a sharp glare. "Do you really want me to pull up the footage?" That shut her up immediately. Her face went pale. "Then what are you standing around for?" He barked. "Take her home and clean her up!" Snapping back to her senses, Eleanor grabbed Queenie and rushed out. Willa stood there awkwardly for a moment, then bent down to clean up the mess on the floor. Richard waved me over. I walked to him and bowed in front of the old man. "Sorry," he murmured, gently patting my head. "I have misunderstood you." I shook my head, saying nothing. Right then, my stomach let out a loud growl, breaking the tension with perfect comedic timing. Richard burst out laughing with no shame at all. I rubbed my nose, a little embarrassed, and felt powerless to deal with him. Before this, I used to think my grandfather was an eccentric old man, but Richard clearly wasn't much different. No wonder the two of them always argued when they met. Once he finished laughing, Richard stood and offered, "You haven't eaten yet? Come on. Let's go back to my place—I'm cooking today."I beamed and trailed behind him. "Geez! Thanks, Mr. Richard." "Mr. Richard? That sounds far too formal. Just call me Richard already," he said with a grin. "Oh, by the way, when are you and Caden going to give me a grandson to cuddle? I'm bored out of my mind every day." "Richard!" I said, blushing. "What? Getting shy now, kiddo?" He teased. "It's not just me—your grandpa's been nagging me too. We're both waiting!" "My grandpa wouldn't say something like that!" "Oh? So now you don't believe me?" Laughing and chatting, we walked out of the villa together.