Chapter 5: The Last Bargain

She took great risks to list the benefits of the alliance under her father’s suspicious gaze.

When her father tested her, she replied, “Just met him once, how could I fall for him? It’s obvious which is more useful to us, a divided Ellison family or a strong group, right, Dad?”

After they got engaged, their news made headlines. With the Avery family’s guarantee, the banks finally stopped pressing Carter.

But Carter, always the favored son, saw the engagement as coercion and humiliation.

So he was polite but distant, never close.

Sometimes they got along well, shared interests, even complained together about business.

Carter remembered all her holidays, and his assistant would send her expensive gifts on time.

They dined together, dated, enjoyed theater and dance, like any engaged couple.

But there was always a faint distance—never lovers, just partners completing a task.

Until one day.

“In the first year of our engagement, I visited him at his company. He was working overtime, his assistant was there. They finished something, exchanged a knowing smile, and I saw Carter hug her. He let go quickly, but she blushed, looking at him with adoration.”

“We’d been engaged a year, and he’d never even held my hand, but he hugged another woman.”

“So I stood there, watching that assistant smile at him, and told him I didn’t like her and wanted her gone.”

At that time, all his funds came from the Avery family, so he couldn’t refuse.

He asked why she wanted the assistant fired.

Lillian replied casually, “Because I don’t like her.”

Carter said nothing. The assistant, seeing his trouble, resigned.

He stared at Lillian for a long time, then sneered.

From then on, they grew further apart.

This time, Lillian felt pain because she had blacklisted a starlet who tried to seduce Carter.

The starlet begged him to ask Miss Avery to show mercy.

Actually, Carter wouldn’t have cared—he just used it as an excuse.

He questioned if she needed to be so ruthless.

He mocked her for her venomous heart.

I remembered the suffocating pain I felt when I woke up in her body.

Lillian looked at me in the mirror, smiling, but it was uglier than crying. Her tone was sincerely confused: “Quinn, I never used any tricks on him. Is that so wrong? Is it wrong to be prepared when someone tries to seduce my fiancé?”

She looked pained and asked, “Why did he say that about me? Was I wrong?”

You are not wrong.

Of course not.

If someone says you’re wrong, says you’re vicious, then they’re the one at fault, not you.

I hated Carter.

I didn’t hide this from Lillian. Like a scheming courtier whispering to the queen, I coaxed her:

“Lillian, dump him.”

She just smiled, her eyes melancholy as she sighed, “But Quinn, I’ve liked him for so many years. How can I give him up?”

So I said no more.

Until we discovered Carter seemed to have fallen for someone else.

It was Lillian’s birthday.

No matter how cold he was, they were still engaged.

After three years of partnership, the Avery and Ellison families’ interests were deeply intertwined.

Lillian called him, her tone gentle, as if their argument days ago had never happened.

“Carter, are you free tonight? Let’s have dinner together.”

He agreed.

That’s how high society works—no matter what’s left unsaid, both sides keep up appearances, never showing emotion.

The private restaurant had a great atmosphere. He presented a gift with perfect manners.

Though Lillian’s smile didn’t change, I knew she was truly happy.

Even if it was just an expensive diamond watch, she thanked him, “Thank you, I really like it.”

After eating, they just chatted.

Nothing happened, until I noticed Carter was distracted.

In their world, distraction meant danger.

He was usually precise, never making mistakes. But that night, he was absent-minded. Lillian had to repeat a question before he responded, apologizing politely, “Sorry, I didn’t hear. Could you repeat that?”

Lillian kept her composure, gently repeating, “Next Sunday, my father’s golfing with the Citibank president. He invited you.”

He paused, then said, “Sorry, I have something next week.”

Lillian replied, picked up her coffee cup to cover her expression, and by the time she put it down, her smile was back.

After the meal, we sat in the car. She was silent for a long time, then told me, “Quinn, he has something on his mind.”

I replied, “Call the private detective. Have them follow Carter.”

The detective was efficient. Soon, we knew why Carter was distracted.

Harper Lin, a senior in NYU’s photography department. Two months ago, Carter gave a lecture at the school, and after the talk, Harper took his photo for the school paper.

I looked through the photos with Lillian.

Carter, usually in a suit, wore a hoodie, looking young and handsome, walking with Harper under the trees, holding bubble tea.

Lillian’s hand caressed his face in the photo, finally tapping his slightly upturned lips.