The red Ferrari roared past Emma Johnson, the engine screaming as Benjamin Williams slammed on the accelerator. He stopped the car in an extreme drift, parking just two meters away from her.
Emma jumped back, startled by the sudden screech of brakes.
These two brothers... one is worse than the other.
Benjamin killed the engine and stepped out of the car, his long legs carrying him toward her with an arrogant stride. A silent smirk played on his lips as he reached for the back of her head.
Emma was confused by this sudden, ambiguous gesture. She stepped back and glared at him. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Nothing." He pulled a blade of grass from her hair and held it up between them. "Just saw a piece of grass in your hair. That's all."
The corner of his mouth curled upward into an infuriating smirk.
His words were light, but they carried a deeper meaning.
Emma didn't catch it.
She rolled her eyes at him and turned to leave, her high heels clicking sharply against the pavement. But the mischievous brat shifted his body to block her path.
She moved left. He moved left.
She moved right. He moved right.
His smirk grew wider with each step.
"Benjamin, have you had enough? Believe it or not, I'll slap you—" Emma raised her hand.
Benjamin leaned back effortlessly, dodging her attack. He straightened up, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "My brother's coming."
Emma was furious. In this family, can anyone just bully me?
Seeing his younger brother causing trouble again, Liam Williams strode over in three quick steps. He wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulder and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Go see Dad first."
Then he raised his hand and smacked Benjamin hard on the head. "You brat. Always causing trouble. What are you doing back so early? Come to my study later. I have something to discuss with you."
With that, Liam straightened his collar and walked inside.
Benjamin rubbed the spot where he'd been hit and followed his brother. "Brother, how do you feel?"
Liam glanced back at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
"You and my sister-in-law... Didn't you two just come back from the field?" Benjamin's expression was knowing. "I have evidence." He pulled out the blade of grass and waved it in front of Liam's face.
Liam's face turned cold. He didn't even look at him. "You have quite the imagination. I think you're too idle."
He pushed past Benjamin and walked straight into the house. He saw Emma bending over to change her shoes at the entrance. Then he looked toward the living room, where the old man was sitting on the sofa, reading a newspaper.
They walked over to Henry Williams together. Emma called out respectfully, "Dad."
She was about to head upstairs when Henry's stern voice stopped her. "Come eat together. Old Matthew said you haven't eaten yet. I've been waiting here for you."
"Alright, Dad." Liam was delighted. He nodded at Emma.
Emma's steps faltered. She turned back weakly.
She wouldn't dare defy a single word Henry said, even if she had ten times the courage.
Benjamin followed them inside and muttered vaguely, "Dad." When Oliver, the butler, asked if he wanted to eat, he said he already had and strode up the stairs.
Henry sighed. This brat is becoming less and less formal.
This time, Emma was quick. She rushed ahead of Oliver and went to the old man, gently supporting his arm as she led him to the kitchen.
Henry hadn't expected his daughter-in-law to suddenly help him. He didn't say anything, but the stern expression on his face softened.
His impression of Emma was neither good nor bad. Since it was his son's choice, he wouldn't directly oppose it, even if he didn't fully understand it.
"How's your hand?" Henry asked as soon as they sat down.
"Nothing serious. Don't worry, Dad." Liam looked down at his right hand. The gauze was wet with blood—Emma had grabbed it earlier.
"Christopher came by earlier. He told me about your recent condition and your injury..."
"Did he?" Liam raised his hand to pick up his chopsticks. But because his hand was wrapped in thick gauze, he couldn't grip anything too thin. He paused, then awkwardly switched to his left hand. He tried several times but still couldn't pick anything up.
Emma and Henry both noticed his struggle. Emma pretended not to see and took a sip of soup.
"He was hurt for you. Is this how you treat him now? Liam, she's your wife." Henry was trying to be gentle with his son, but his daughter-in-law didn't seem moved. He had to remind her.
Emma heard Henry's words. She stared at him blankly, then at Liam, confused.
Does he expect me to feed him?
Aren't there servants in the house?
Liam saw her hesitation and pretended to help her out, though his motives were far from pure. "Dad, it's fine. I'll just ask a servant to bring me a spoon later."
"Is that how it should be? You married a wife to serve you. What's the matter? Daughter-in-law, you're willing to help me. Is it so hard to feed your own husband?" Henry slammed his chopsticks on the table, making a loud sound.
Emma was startled. "I didn't mean that, Dad. I'll take care of Liam."
"You're married, and you still call him by his full name? Is that appropriate?" Henry's anger grew. His son's wife didn't seem to like him.
Why can't I call him that? Emma complained inwardly.
I can't call him Liam, can I?
But then she thought about how Liam had always been impeccable in front of his parents. She had to learn from him.
A sweet smile immediately appeared on her face. She took Liam's bowl, filled it with a large piece of meat, and slowly handed it to him. Her voice was gentle. "Husband, why don't you try this?"