Chapter 292 of 391

Chapter 292

Alicia paused, her eyes fixed on Tyrone.

He didn’t look well. Taking a deep breath, Tyrone took her by the hand and led her outside. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Alicia felt dazed, her mind spinning. She’d always heard that Tyrone’s one true crush was Serena Sinclair. Now, suddenly, it was some underage girl?

Just how many people had Tyrone really been in love with?

She wanted to ask about that girl.

More than that, she wanted to hear Tyrone explain it.

But Tyrone gave her nothing.

So she held back her questions.

Still, the thought stuck in her chest like a thorn.

She didn’t mind that Tyrone had loved other people before—she’d loved Vincent herself, after all.

But what terrified her was the idea that Tyrone might still love someone else.

If that girl ever showed up, would he regret marrying her?

Would he take it all back?

Once they were in the car, Tyrone broke the silence. “Clayton is the White family’s adopted son. He has no claim to their inheritance, and the old man doesn’t plan to give him any shares. But he’s smart, ambitious. You understand?” Tyrone glanced at Alicia, his tone serious.

Clayton was far more complicated than he seemed.

Alicia drew a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “Clayton doesn’t really look like that kind of person.”

“He’s very good at hiding.” Tyrone’s voice was cool. “He managed to fool Mr. White completely.”

Reginald was nobody’s fool, and the fact that he trusted Clayton so much proved how skilled Clayton was at wearing a mask.

Tyrone had never taken anyone seriously—not even Vincent. He didn’t fear competition.

But Clayton... With him, Tyrone had to weigh every move.

That man could only be an ally. As an enemy, he’d be trouble—serious trouble.

Clayton would be weighing his options, too. Working with Tyrone meant more benefits for both. But if they ever became enemies, it would be a lose-

lose. Neither of them wanted to gamble everything when there was no real grudge between them.

“I’ll keep my distance from him.” Alicia promised quietly.

She didn’t really have a choice. She was just Tyrone’s “wife’—a title that felt like it could be stripped away at any moment.

She never knew when Tyrone might grow tired of her and send her away.

“Good. That’s my girl.” Tyrone reached over and ruffled her hair.

He liked her like this—obedient, relying on him alone.

...

In a shabby apartment across town, Easton pedaled his bike home only to find his mom in the middle of a violent coughing fit, blood staining her lips.

When Valery saw him come in, she hurried to hide the bloodied handkerchief.

Easton’s face paled. He rushed to her side, voice tight with worry. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

Valery forced a smile and shook her head. “It’s nothing, just a little cold. Have you eaten, sweetheart? I’ll make you something.”

Valery really was an actress at heart—she should’ve been in Hollywood. She pushed herself up, but a wave of dizziness nearly sent her to the floor.

Marcus caught her just in time, concern etched on his face. “Lie down and rest, Valery. I’ll cook tonight.”

Easton stared at Marcus in disbelief. Marcus, who never set foot in the kitchen, was volunteering to make dinner?

Was something actually wrong with his mom?

Easton had wondered if Valery would try to force him to marry Nicole, but so far, all she and Marcus had done was gently nudge him.

“Mom, are you sure you’re all right?” Easton asked, worry clear in his voice.

Valery could see he was taking the bait. She waved him off. “I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

Rich Radiant and Over Him (Alicia and Vincent)

Chapter 291 The Heiress Acts Mischievously, But Her Family Can Read Her Mind Chapter 347: Administering Drugs Switched Marriage The Coddled Little Wife Chapter 538: Unimaginable She lay down on the lumpy cot, coughing pitifully.

Easton didn’t say another word. He headed to the small desk in the corner and started on his homework.

A few minutes later, the smell of burning food drifted from the kitchen—Marcus had scorched the pot.

Easton, without missing a beat, walked over, took the pot from Marcus, added water, scrubbed it clean, and started dinner from scratch—calmly, efficiently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.