Devoted Love:The Billionaire's Precious Wife
Chapter 408

Chapter 408: Chapter 408

Alma nudged Serena sharply with her elbow, then immediately turned to Kenneth and Louisa with an innocent smile. "What kind of fruit would you like? I’ll wash them all together!"

The sudden jostle made Serena’s hand slip. The knife nicked her finger, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Oh, Serena!" Alma gasped, feigning shock. "You cut yourself! How careless!" She whirled toward Louisa, her voice dripping with false concern. "Mom, call the nurse! A cut like this could get infected!"

Before Serena could speak, Alma barreled on, clutching her wrist dramatically. "Does it hurt badly? Hang in there—help is coming!" She snatched the fruit and peeler from Serena’s hands, sighing. "You should get that bandaged. I’ll handle the rest... though I can’t make fruit salad like you. Grandma will have to wait."

Cornelia frowned. "Did Serena hurt herself?" She beckoned a nurse. "Take her to dress that wound."

"Right away, Madam." The nurse ushered a seething Serena away.

Alma sighed theatrically as she rinsed grapes. "Funny—Serena never used to peel fruit, let alone make salads." She shot a pointed glance at Beverly. "Unlike me, slaving in the kitchen since I was ten."

"’Slaving’?" Beverly swatted her shoulder playfully. "I was training you!"

"Sure. Meanwhile, Serena got coddled." Alma’s laugh was light, but her eyes glinted.

Beverly rolled her eyes at Cornelia. "Mom, your granddaughter’s being dramatic again."

But Cornelia was silent, her gaze distant.

Serena never learned kitchen skills... Did she pick them up just to please us? The thought twisted her heart. If true, the girl’s efforts felt suddenly tragic.

Alma interrupted her musings with a whine. "Grandma, Mom’s ganging up on me! Defend me!"

Rosemary observed the scene coolly.

Pathetic, she thought. Serena doesn’t even fight back. But she kept her disdain to herself, watching like a spectator at a play.

Alma caught Rosemary’s reflection in the glass—utterly unfazed. A spike of irritation shot through her.

I hinted that her parents dote on Serena. Why isn’t she jealous?

After slicing the fruit, Alma set aside a small plate. "This is for Serena. Hands off!"

Cornelia chuckled. "You bicker like cats and dogs, yet you always share."

"Grandma, try my apples!" Alma pressed a slice into her hand, grinning. "Tell me if they’re sweeter than Serena’s."

"Must everything be a competition?" Cornelia shook her head, amused.

"When you favor her? Yes." Alma’s smile was all mischief.

She then offered the tray to Rosemary. "Rose, want some?"

Cornelia tsked. "You skipped your parents and your aunt and uncle. Clearly, Rose is your favorite."

"Who wouldn’t adore her?" Alma beamed. "She’s perfect!"

Rosemary didn’t even glance at the fruit. "I’m not hungry."

Alma’s face fell. "Is my salad not good enough?"

The room tensed. All eyes turned to Rosemary, baffled by her rejection.

She answered flatly, "My insulin, neuropeptide, and cholecystokinin levels are elevated. Fruit fiber would absorb electrolytes and trace elements. The bananas contain tannins, which bind to iron and calcium, forming insoluble compounds that strain my pancreas."

A stunned silence followed.

No one understood a word.

But her delivery was so clinical that Cornelia nodded gravely. "Then don’t eat! Health comes first."

Alma’s smile tightened. She’s mocking me. But with no way to prove it, she passed the tray to others.

After a while, Alma checked the clock. "Serena’s taking forever. I’ll go see."

"Always worrying about her," Cornelia mused.

Beverly laughed. "They fight like rivals, but can’t stay apart. That’s sisters for you."

Serena had just finished bandaging her finger when Alma appeared.

Rage boiled in her chest. Spotting Alma’s smirk, she stormed over. "Alma—!"

"Serena!" Alma grabbed her injured hand, squeezing the wound hard. "Grandma sent me to check on you! Let’s see if they bandaged it right—"

"Ah!" Serena yanked back, pain flashing across her face.

Nearby nurses glanced over. Alma dialed up the theatrics. "Don’t blame the nurses! They’re doing their best. You shouldn’t be so difficult."

The nurses teared up at her "kindness."

"Alma!" Serena hissed.

"Tsk. Grandma hates poor manners." Alma crossed her arms, smirking. "Make a scene, and you’ll humiliate the Collins name. Family dirty laundry stays private."

"You’ll pay for this!" Serena turned to leave

Alma stuck out her foot.

Serena stumbled, then snapped. She raised a hand to strike

"Serena!" Alma scrambled back, voice shrill. "You’d hit me for defending a nurse?"

"I’ll do worse!" Serena aimed a kick.

Alma dodged, wide-eyed. "Stop! People are watching! Don’t you care about our family’s reputation?"

"Cut the crap!"

Serena lashed out with a kick, but Alma dodged with practiced ease, her smirk widening as Serena’s fury grew.

"Missed again," Alma taunted, backing toward the deserted fire exit. "You always were terrible at this."

The moment the stairwell door clicked shut, Alma’s demeanor flipped. Her fist drove into Serena’s stomach—hard.

"Ugh—!" Serena crumpled, the pain of the blow colliding with her menstrual cramps. She couldn’t even scream.

Alma yanked her up by the hair, forcing their eyes to meet. "Still dumb as ever," she hissed. "You really thought you could take me on?"

"Let go!" Serena’s voice was raw, but Alma’s grip only tightened.

"Know why I hate you more than Rosemary?" Alma’s breath was hot against her ear. "Because you’re pathetic. Weak. A temper with no teeth. Did you really think Grandma waking up would save you?"

A cruel laugh. "She adores blood. And now she has Rosemary—perfect, brilliant Rosemary. You? You’re nothing."

Serena twisted, driving her knee into Alma’s thigh.

"Ah! You—!" Alma recoiled, but not without retaliation—her foot slammed into Serena’s backside, sending her sprawling onto the concrete.

"You keep provoking me," Serena panted, "because you think I won’t fight back."

"Bingo." Alma dusted off her sleeves. "Watching you lose it is fun. But let’s be real—could you even land a punch?"

Serena’s fists shook.

"Didn’t think so." Alma turned to leave, then—with theatrical precision—screamed and flung herself down the stairs.

"Serena!" She clutched her stomach, voice trembling. "I’ll always forgive you... Sister."

Nurses rushed over, their glares slicing into Serena.

Back in the hospital room, Cornelia dozed off, exhausted. Rosemary tucked her in, then joined the others to leave.

Serena returned silent, her glare at Alma venomous.

Alma, unfazed, sidled up to Rosemary. "Rose, we need to talk."

Beverly waved them off. "Let them chat. We’ll go ahead."

Once the others were out of earshot, Alma dropped her voice. "I tried to check Serena’s bandages, and she—" A dramatic pause. "She wants us to team up to kick you out."

Rosemary didn’t blink. "Oh."

"She’s plotting against you!" Alma pressed. "Aren’t you angry?"

"Just surprised."

"Surprised she’d—?"

"Surprised you think I’m stupid." Rosemary’s voice was Arctic. "Serena wouldn’t say that. Save your amateur theatrics."

Alma’s mask slipped. "You trust her over me?"

"I don’t trust either of you." Rosemary turned to leave. "But I know a snake when I see one."

Alma chased after her. "Fine! I lied. But listen—let’s team up for real. Get rid of Serena together!"

Rosemary stopped dead. "Is she stealing your air? Breathing your oxygen? Why do you care?"

"She doesn’t belong here!"

"Keep this up," Rosemary said softly, "and you’ll be the one leaving."

Alma paled. "You can’t—"

"Try me." Rosemary’s smile was blade-sharp.

Louisa glanced back as they rejoined the group. "What was so urgent?"

"Just discussing an alliance," Rosemary said.

The word hung in the air like a grenade pin.

Beverly choked. "A—alliance?"

"Ask Alma." Rosemary’s tone was light, but her eyes weren’t.

Beverly forced a laugh. "Ignore her, Louisa. Alma’s always starting something."

But the damage was done. Serena’s glare burned into Alma, her phone already buzzing with a message to Martha:

We need to talk. Now.