Chapter 345
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the kitchen, where Bianca Savigny was intently chopping fruit, completely oblivious to the frantic eye signals the servants were making behind her.
"You're stepping on my limited edition sneakers."
A lazy male voice sounded behind her.
Bianca didn't even turn around. "Then don't stand so close."
The kitchen fell into deadly silence.
Only then did she look up, meeting a pair of peach-blossom eyes glinting with amusement. The man had a head of flamboyantly dyed hair, his earring glinting in the sunlight.
"Colorful rooster," she blurted out.
The servants gasped.
"What did you say?" Alexander Roland narrowed his eyes, his voice dangerously rising.
"I said—" Bianca enunciated each word slowly, "your hair looks like a colorful rooster."
Alexander let out a humorless laugh. In all his life, no one had dared speak to him like this.
"Who hired her?" he demanded coldly. "Get her out of the Roland estate. Now."
"Third Young Master..." The butler hesitated.
"What, are my orders meaningless now?"
Bianca finally realized something. The fruit knife in her hand clattered onto the cutting board.
"Third Brother!"
Evelyn Roland's voice cut through the tension just in time.
Alexander's expression instantly shifted, turning pitiful as he turned to her. "Little sister, she insulted me..."
Bianca froze. She finally remembered where she'd seen that face before—in the family photo Evelyn had shown her.
"She's my best friend," Evelyn said helplessly. "Mom personally invited her to help out."
The air turned to ice.
Alexander's face went through a series of expressions. He had just insulted... his mother and sister?
"Sorry," he muttered stiffly, the tips of his ears burning red.
Bianca kept her head down, fingers nervously picking at the edge of her apron.
"Bianca," Evelyn said gently, "you weren't entirely blameless either."
"I'm sorr—" she began.
"I was rude first," Alexander cut in, turning his face away awkwardly.
Bianca peeked up just in time to see him tugging at his hair in frustration. That brightly colored tuft stuck up even more, making him look like a ruffled parrot.
She couldn't help it—a giggle escaped.
Alexander glared, but under his sister's warning look, he slumped his shoulders in defeat.
The servants exchanged glances. None of them had ever seen the Third Young Master like this before.