Ch. My sister’s punishment, my billionaire prize 19 My sister’s punishment, my billionaire prize 19

I finally breathed a sigh of relief, though a strange question occurred to me: 

I had just come from my bedroom-how could a flower petal have landed on my shoulder? / 

In the days that followed, I rarely had opportunities to be alone with Alexander. 

This was something of a relief. 

Olivia, on the other hand, after discovering my injured foot, pestered me until I told her about what happened before I left the Parker house. She was so angry she nearly stormed out to tear down the Parker mansion: 

“Those Parker bastards are unbelievable! They begged you to take the fall for Amber and then treated you like this? I’m going to teach them a lesson right now!” 

I quickly covered my injury and got up to stop her: 

“It’s just a superficial wound. It’ll heal soon.” 

“Besides, before leaving the Parker house, I signed papers severing all family ties. From now on, I have nothing to do with them.” 

“What about your fiancé?” Olivia couldn’t help asking. 

At the mention of Drake, I realized I no longer felt any emotional response-I just calmly replied: 

“I wrote a letter breaking our engagement. Besides, since I’m no longer a Parker, the arrangement between our families doesn’t apply anymore.” 

“Is that so? In that case, Violet, would you consider my brother?” 

“What… your brother?” 

“Dating him, of course.” 

Olivia immediately perked up. “Violet, you’re single now, so why not give it a try with Alex?” I hurriedly refused: 

“That wouldn’t be appropriate.” 

“Why not?” 

Olivia thought for a moment. “Violet, you don’t dislike my brother, do you?” 

“I mean, I get it. Apart from being handsome and wealthy, he doesn’t have much going for him. It’s reasonable if you’re not interested.” 

As Olivia’s comments became more outrageous, I frantically waved my hands: 

“I don’t dislike him.” 

Just then, Alexander pushed open the door and walked in. 

Meeting his gaze, I regretted my words immediately. 

To make matters worse, Olivia kept going: 

“Not disliking him means you like him, right?” 

“Violet, if you like my brother, you should be with him!” 

I felt my face burning so intensely it might melt. 

I don’t remember how I fled back to my room, only that I couldn’t possibly face Alexander again. 

113 

The Blackwood siblings took excellent care of me. 

10 

Occasionally, I’d overhear Olivia instructing the security staff: 

“If you see anyone from the Parker family or Sullivan family coming here again, have your weapons ready. Beat them until they don’t dare return!” 

made me feel warm inside. 

So this was what it felt like to be valued and cared for. 

During these days, because of my leg injury, doctors came daily to change my bandages and check on 

I always felt embarrassed about this attention. 

I had only coincidentally saved Olivia when she was little-it wasn’t anything significant. Yet the Blackwoods had gone to such lengths to rescue me from the Parkér family’s toxicity and were now letting me stay with them. I couldn’t help feeling undeserving. 

So I began secretly observing the Blackwood siblings’ preferences and started making them breakfast early each morning. 

This was something I’d grown accustomed to doing at the Parker house, so it came naturally to me, The first time Olivia saw me getting up early to make breakfast, she actually felt bad for me. 

She wanted to tell me it wasn’t necessary. 

Before she could speak, Alexander stopped her. 

“Let Violet do it if she wants to. Rather than having her stay here with a sense of guilt, it’s better to let her feel needed and valuable.” 

So scenes like this became common at the Blackwood breakfast table: 

I would serve a delicious breakfast, and Olivia would jump up to give me a big hug: 

“Violet, your cooking is amazing! This is truly the best breakfast I’ve ever had!” 

“To thank you for breakfast, I’ve prepared a gift for you.” 

She would present me with a small brooch-not extravagantly expensive but delicate and charming) clearly chosen with care. 

In the past, when I made breakfast for the Parkers, all I heard were complaints like “the porridge is too thin” or “can’t you time breakfast better? I’m going to be late.” I never received anything in return. But in the Blackwood house, it was completely different. 

I not only felt needed but also cherished. 

Alexander gently curved his lips in a smile: 

“In that case, I also have a gift for Violet.” 

When I was invited into their car, I felt nervous, though having Olivia there helped. 

But the siblings wouldn’t tell me where we were going. 

It wasn’t until the car stopped at a grand venue that I realized with shock: this was Amber’s apprenticeship ceremony. 

Days earlier, I had seen in the news that the Parker family was hosting an elaborate party to celebrate Amber becoming Master Montgomery’s student. They had invited almost every noble family in their social circle. 

I instinctively stepped back, but Alexander took my hand. His deep, rich voice sounded close to my left ear: 

“This opportunity was rightfully yours. Don’t you want to reclaim it?” 

Somehow, the hand Alexander held gradually filled with strength. 

With his status as head of the Blackwood family, Alexander easily escorted me inside. 

The only Parker present was my father. Master Montgomery sat in a wheelchair, looking somewhat weak. 

I heard he’d been in a car accident recently. Fortunately, he’d only injured his leg, with no other serious harm. 

On stage, Amber was giving a speech about her passion for art and the efforts she had made since childhood to study painting. 

Others might not know, but I was well aware of the truth. 

Amber couldn’t tolerate any hardship. Whether painting or studying, she always started enthusiastically but quickly lost interest. She must have gone to great lengths for this act-even deliberately developing calluses on her hands and memorizing her speech. 

This passionate performance was worthy of an Academy Award. 

Suddenly, as Amber reached the emotional climax of her speech, a video appeared on the screen behind her. 

The stars of this video were none other than Amber and my father, but with expressions completely different from their current composure: 

“This old Montgomery geezer is such a pain. Why can’t he just accept me as his student and be done with it? Why does he insist on a live painting demonstration? How am I supposed to paint? Dad, you have to help me!” 

“Don’t worry, Amber. Daddy has already arranged a car accident. Once Montgomery is hospitalized and can’t get up, he won’t be able to make you paint live.”