Mr Grant, Please Be Gentle

Matthew looked at her and noticed her clenched fingers, and the nervous sweat on her brow.

He’d already investigated her, and knew that she hadn’t gone to college at all. She didn’t even have a proper job. He could bail her out this time, but he also wanted to see if she could handle it on her own. Compared with a question like that, after all, marrying into his family was definitely a greater challenge.

And more importantly, that was the only way she could protect the identity the jade pendant would one day give her.

There was a full house waiting for Blanca’s answer.

She dipped her head, bit her lower lip, and said honestly, “I didn’t go to college. I was sickly as a child, and my studies were intermittent throughout my youth, and I didn’t go to school. My granny wrote up study materials for me herself and taught me knowledge.”Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

Blanca knew the most basic rule of lying, which was to first admit something, and then make things up halfway. It would always be more convincing than outright lies.

As for what she’d just said, it was true she hadn’t gone to college, it wasn’t true that she had been sickly, it was true that her studies were intermittent, and it wasn’t true that her granny had wrote up study materials for her.

“Seems you had been taken good care of, Mrs. Grant. What kind of work do you do?” the reporter asked on.

Blanca lifted her gaze and smiled humbly. “I draw art.”

The reporters exclaimed in admiration and doled out praise along with other questions about what she drew and if they could look at her great works.

Matthew looked at Blanca, smiling and murmuring, “I won’t bail you out for baseless boasts.”

Blanca glared at him. “I really do draw.”

Only, she drew on other people’s houses. Sometimes she drew crosses, sometimes she drew stars, other times she drew ticks.

Crosses meant they weren’t marks. Stars meant that they were great targets to steal from. As for ticks, those meant they’d already entered before.

Matthew narrowed his eyes, worried that she really couldn’t hold it in. He looked at Curtis and signaled that he could announce end of the questioning session.

Just as they rose to leave, a shrill female voice rang out from the corner. “Miss Blanca Roach, is it true that you went into prison for theft once?”

Blanca raised her head sharply. The person who’d asked that was Kylie.

No wonder she’d felt like there was a familiar face in the crowd. Kylie had blended her way in.

The reporters churned into a feeding frenzy like sharks smelling blood. All of them piled on Blanca, demanding if she really had a criminal record for stealing.

Blanca stood there, feeling cold, rooted to the spot and endless flashbulbs lit up her beautiful but pale face. She wanted to flip the table and hurl it at the cold-hearted reporters.

Curtis asked Kylie loudly in return, “Can you show you press pass, madam? We’ll sue you for libel!”

Kylie didn’t have a press pass, of course, and as for the threat of a lawsuit, the reporters were all dying for a scoop, and the threat fell flat.

All they cared about was if the wife of the head of the Empire Group had a criminal record for theft – if the young mistress of the Grant family had been a juvenile delinquent!

Seeing that she couldn’t bear it, Matthew took Blanca’s hand and was about to leave.

Blanca, though, wrenched free of his grip, looked calmly at him, and swept an imperious and contemptuous gaze towards the reporters who wanted to eat her alive.