Venom and Sanctuary: The Last Heart / Chapter 6: Spring After Winter
Venom and Sanctuary: The Last Heart

Venom and Sanctuary: The Last Heart

Author: Johnny Berry


Chapter 6: Spring After Winter

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She murmured, helpless as if returned to years ago, “Quinn, do you think he really likes her?”

I sneered, “Just test him and you’ll know.”

I found Carter. He didn’t notice any difference between me and Lillian. I sat across from him, smiling innocently:

“Carter, last week, my friend saw you with a girl at the movies. Even if this is a business marriage, I hope we can be loyal to each other—or at least not embarrass me.”

He was stunned, then replied lightly, expressionless, “Just a game.”

I smiled, said nothing. A few days later, he and a starlet appeared in the news.

His face wasn’t clear in the photo. Looking at it, Lillian and I sneered. I said, “Looks like it’s true love—he’s even using the classic business tactic of creating a diversion.”

Lillian said nothing, put down the newspaper, and picked up the detective’s photos.

Under the blooming wisteria at NYU, Carter leaned down and kissed Harper’s forehead.

Even in the photo, you could see it. The way he looked at her.

So beautiful.

He had never kissed Lillian.

Even after three years of engagement.

I watched Lillian, her face blank as she stared at the photo. I said, “Lillian, let it go. He’s not worth it.”

If it were me, I’d use this photo to negotiate with Carter, get his shares, then break off the engagement and kick him far away. But I don’t love him. I can be clear-headed and ruthless.

But Lillian loves him.

She said, “No one can betray me, Quinn. I’ll make them all pay.”

“It’s fine if he doesn’t love me, it’s fine, Quinn. I’ve figured it out. I don’t want his love, I just want him.”

“Even if he doesn’t love me, he has to be tied to me for life—unless one day I don’t want him anymore.”

He called her venomous. She smiled, the meaning hidden, and said, “Then I’ll show him just how venomous I can be.”

The next day, Lillian was herself again—gentle, poised, with flawless makeup, every move graceful, not a hint of losing control.

She called Carter, gently telling him there was a magazine interview.

Rich people sometimes have to appear as a loving couple to stabilize the stock price, shareholders, and board, and to show the two families are united.

That day, when Carter got the call, he was silent for a long time, then hesitated: “Lillian, I have something to tell you.”

What else could it be?

Probably to break off the engagement.

He’s not the same as three years ago. Now that he’s secure, he can pursue true love.

I watched the smile on Lillian’s lips.

The angrier and more out of control she was, the gentler her smile, light and floating, her eyes deep and unreadable—a look I barely recognized. She interrupted, “Let’s talk after the interview.”

Carter paused, then agreed.

The magazine brought professional equipment. Lillian sat beside Carter, smiling gently. They looked perfect together, even their features matched.

Someone sighed, “How can there be such a perfect couple?”

Lillian leaned on Carter’s shoulder, telling their story—half true, half false—about their engagement, their happiness, the gifts he gave her. She talked so much that even she seemed to believe Carter loved her.

Maybe to save face for her, Carter kept up his gentlemanly manners, never refuting a word.

At the end of the interview, I caught sight of someone in the crowd—Harper Lin, pale and lost. When arranging the interview, Lillian had specifically asked, “You have an intern named Harper Lin, right? Make sure she’s present.”

Only then did she truly smile.

She asked me, “Quinn, do you think Carter will call me venomous again when he realizes?” I didn’t answer. She looked up at the sky, as if she didn’t care. “Let him say what he wants. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

In fact, Carter didn’t get angry.

He stood before her, his tone calm.

“You arranged this interview on purpose, so you already know about Harper. Let’s be honest—let’s break off the engagement.”

Lillian looked up at him. “What if I don’t want to?”

He was puzzled. “Why not? I’m willing to make concessions with the shares. Lillian, our engagement was just a business deal, wasn’t it?”

Lillian’s face gradually paled, a little dazed. “From the start, you only saw our engagement as a business deal?”

That’s why the wedding date kept being postponed—he never planned to marry her.

A business partner—when he no longer needed her, the partnership would end. No guilt required.

He said, “I agreed to the engagement as a stopgap measure.”

A stopgap measure.

The heart Lillian offered was nothing but his stopgap measure.

Perhaps seeing her so pale, Carter hesitated. “Business is business, Lillian. I was wrong, but I said I’d compensate you. You don’t love me, I don’t love you—being together would only bring pain.”

Lillian smiled, her smile growing wider with each sentence, until finally dazzling.

She said, “But Carter, what if I told you I don’t feel nothing for you?”

She once told me she didn’t want Carter to stay out of gratitude.

She wanted him to fall in love with her.

“When he loves me, I’ll tell him about our meeting twelve years ago, tell him I’ve loved him for twelve years, waited twelve years, and finally he loves me. Isn’t that romantic, Quinn?”

“We’ll get married, have two kids, grow old together, and when I’m too old to walk, I’ll hold our grandchildren and tell them our story.”

But Carter never loved her, so she could only confess her feelings early.

But after hearing her, Carter only frowned in confusion. “Lillian, I don’t remember what happened twelve years ago.”

Lillian looked at him, her smile fading bit by bit.

He paused, then added:

“Besides, I’ve investigated you. Lillian, you sent your stepbrother away as a teenager, caused your stepmother’s miscarriage and divorce, and helped your roommate seduce your own father.”

He sneered, “Miss Avery, you’re full of tricks. You should be used to betrayal and scheming in the business world, right?”

“Pa—” His words were cut off because I couldn’t stand it anymore and slapped him across the face. Maybe he’d never seen this side of Lillian; he stared at me in shock.

I shook my stinging hand, stared coldly into his eyes, and said, “Carter Ellison, you really disgust me.”

“Lillian has countless schemes, but never used a single one on you. Yet you calculated against her from the start.”

“She must be blind to have fallen for you.”

Then I turned and left. Maybe my words made him suspicious—he looked at me searchingly.

I ignored him.

Lillian was silent inside me.

I asked, “Are you crying?”

Her only true heart was treated like trash. I asked, “If you hadn’t met Carter at sixteen, would you have fallen for him?”

She paused, then told me, “No.”

But she met him, so what could she do? Not too early, not too late—he appeared at just the right time.

He was bathed in a hazy light in Lillian’s memory, and she was obsessed with having him, like chasing a dream from her youth.

I sighed and asked, “Can you stop loving him? You’re too soft on him, it’s affecting my performance. I want to avenge you but have to consider your feelings.”

Her voice was tired, exhausted and lost: “I don’t know, Quinn. I don’t know how to go on.”

She was at a loss, and only Carter could throw her off balance. I couldn’t bear to see her like this.

So I comforted her, “It’s alright, Lillian. I’ll walk with you.”

I will always, always walk with you.

I will never betray you, never scheme against you, you can always trust me. Through wind and rain, I will always be here.

I will never leave you alone again.

I didn’t expect the hurt Carter gave her to be worse than I imagined.

The day Lillian disappeared from her body was when she went to try on wedding dresses.

The bridal shop’s assistant greeted her politely: “Miss Avery, your wedding dress has been custom made. When would you like to try it on?”

Even though Carter never planned to marry her, she still went.

It was designed by the famous designer Vera Wang, inlaid with a thousand pearls and platinum diamonds, worth $8.5 million.

When she put it on, the assistant turned pale: “Impossible—these are the measurements Mr. Ellison provided. We confirmed—” She stopped, realized something, glanced at Lillian, and awkwardly said, “Sorry, Miss Avery, we’ll check with Mr. Ellison again.”

“Don’t worry, there’s still time for alterations.”

Lillian said nothing.

I think she knew it wasn’t the dress that didn’t fit.

It wasn’t the shop that got the size wrong.

This wedding dress was never meant for her.

After leaving the shop, she was hit by a cab that ran a red light on the sidewalk.

Actually, it wasn’t serious.

The doctor said it was just minor scrapes.

The police said such a small accident could be settled privately.

The cab driver, red-faced, said, “Miss, you don’t look short of money. I have elders and kids to support. Please don’t make trouble for me.”

No one took it seriously.

Only I knew—

Lillian had disappeared from this body.

Before she disappeared, she looked at the cab and I heard her call my name: “Quinn, I’m too tired.”

Yeah, so tired.

Since childhood, she was forced to fight and struggle. After all that, it was all just an illusion, all for nothing.

She was tired and wanted to rest.

I took control, and before she closed her eyes, I gently said, “It’s alright, Lillian. If you’re tired, just sleep.”

When you wake up, everything will be better.

I promise.

When I opened my eyes, I heard Carter talking to the doctor.

“We’ve done a full checkup. Miss Avery only has minor surface injuries, nothing serious.”

“Then why hasn’t she woken up yet?”

“She was probably frightened. She’ll wake up soon.”

“Alright, thank you, doctor.” Carter nodded politely, then turned to see me open my eyes.

The polite, indifferent smile on his face faded bit by bit, until he was expressionless. After a while, he spoke coldly:

“Lillian, your accident was in the city. The driver was only going 10 miles an hour. He didn’t even touch you. Stop pretending.”

I ignored him.

He probably thought Lillian was using this to get his attention.

He sighed, “Lillian, what do you want?”

Only then did I look up at him.

Cold, scrutinizing, indifferent.

I looked at him in confusion, raised an eyebrow, and softly asked in return, “What do I want?”

“Carter, when you and Harper were secretly together, Lillian was still your fiancée, right?”

“No matter how much you hated her, thought she was scheming, you can’t deny she never let you down, right?”

“When you were twenty-three and entrusted with the family business, when everything was falling apart, wasn’t it Lillian who gave you that last lifeline?”

“All these years, the Ellison and Avery families’ cooperation has brought you plenty of benefits, hasn’t it?”

“Ask yourself, has Lillian ever wronged you?”

I paused, looked him in the eye, and smiled, asking word by word:

“Even if you don’t like her, when she was still your fiancée, you should at least respect her, right?”

“I know you were forced into the engagement, and from your perspective, I wish you luck in pursuing true love. But at least, do it after Lillian agrees to break off the engagement, right?”

My tone probably made him suspicious. He frowned, scrutinizing me, then finally said, “I said I’d make it up to you. Within my ability, I’ll meet your demands.”

I smiled lightly. “But Carter, if it weren’t for Lillian, the entire Ellison family would belong to the Averys. What would you use to bargain with me then?”

I lifted the blanket and got out of bed.

As I passed him, I looked up at his handsome face. He was looking down at me.

His eyes were deep, unreadable, with a flash of suspicion. As we brushed past, he grabbed my wrist, gripping hard. He asked, “You’re not Lillian. Who are you?”

I pretended to be shocked, sneered, and looked at him:

“Oh, didn’t Mr. Ellison investigate me? How come you didn’t find out I spent time in a psychiatric hospital?”

“Lillian is gone, Carter. The one standing before you is another Lillian. Didn’t you hate her? Congratulations—she’ll never appear in your world again.”

He froze.

I ignored him.

I called the driver to pick me up. When I returned to the mansion, Lillian’s father was eating, her beautiful, harmless roommate serving him.

I looked at Lillian’s father and said, “Dad, I want to break off the engagement with Carter Ellison.”

It’s not that I want to—I will.

Getting slapped across the face didn’t surprise me. The taste of blood filled my mouth, a faint buzzing in my ears. The roommate cried out, hugging her father’s arm, “Oh my, talk things out. How can you hit her?”

Lillian’s father spoke calmly, “You insisted on marrying him. Now that the Ellison family is strong, you say you don’t want to? Madison, there’s no such cheap thing for Carter Ellison in this world.”

“He doesn’t like Lillian.” I wiped the blood from my mouth.

“Like?” He laughed, not noticing my wording, only dismissing, “He didn’t like you when you insisted on a business marriage, did he?”

I laughed. If there were a mirror, my smile would be identical to Lillian’s right now.

My tone was light:

“But now, I don’t like him either.”

I called Carter, straight to the point, coldly: “Carter, if you want to break off the engagement, my condition is 49% of Ellison Group’s shares.”

He paused, then replied coldly, “Impossible.”

I knew he liked Harper, but he wasn’t stupid.

Forty-nine percent of the shares would change the company overnight. I expected his reaction, so I smiled:

“Fine. Then buy me out at the highest price for 49% of the shares in the past six months and give me the money.”

He wouldn’t give the shares, but he had the money.

It was a huge sum, but I knew he could afford it.

As long as he could get rid of me, he would agree.

On the day we signed the contract, there were a ton of people. Both sides’ lawyers checked every clause, while I sat by the window watching birds outside.

When it came time to sign, Carter looked at me to confirm, “We’re even now, right?”

See, he never mentioned Lillian.

He didn’t ask if she’d come back, didn’t ask why she disappeared.

He only cared about severing ties with me.

I sipped tea—something Lillian never touched.

She liked wine, liked coffee, but not tea. Carter’s gaze paused on my teacup, and I smiled, “Of course.”

As we parted, I stopped him. He turned back, surprised.

I smiled at him, like Lillian, and said, “Carter, Lillian doesn’t love you anymore.”

“She loved you for a long time, but I just thought you should know—she doesn’t love you anymore.”

Carter said nothing, his eyes deep as he looked at me, then turned and left.

That was the last time I saw him.

After getting the money, I cooperated in holding a press conference to announce our breakup.

I smiled at the cameras, gentle, but the red eyeshadow at the corners of my eyes made me look pitiful yet bravely strong: “We broke up amicably. The two families will continue to cooperate in some areas, don’t worry.”

Ellison’s stock price fluctuated, but it didn’t matter. After a while, people would forget, and his stock would rise again.

Carter and I weren’t celebrities, but in our circle, it was a huge piece of gossip.

Everyone speculated about the real reason behind our breakup.

I smiled and said nothing.

Until someone posted on NYU’s campus forum: “Show off the campus couple you think is the best match.”

Someone posted a photo of Harper Lin and Carter Ellison.

No one knows why, but the post suddenly went viral. Someone asked, isn’t Mr. Ellison engaged to Miss Avery?

They attached a news article from our engagement interview, titled: A Fairy-Tale Love in the Wealthy Circle.

The photo showed Lillian smiling as she leaned on Carter’s shoulder.

Someone replied, “I heard they broke up recently.”

But some didn’t buy it and asked, “No way? Judging by the season in the photo, did Harper come between them?”

See, I told Carter, you can pursue true love.

But at least do it after breaking off the engagement.

Gossip never lacks attention. The post was shared to Instagram and Reddit, and eventually became a meme: a list of the most successful homewreckers.

Even distant friends sent me the link, saying, “Lillian, don’t be sad.”

I’m so sad—I laughed tears at the plunging Ellison stock chart.

Harper’s days probably weren’t easy either. I went to campus to see her from afar. She wore a mask, walking alone, classmates pointing at her.

Even without hearing, I knew what they were saying.

“Look, the homewrecker.”

“Still alive.”

“So shameless.”

I heard her advisor even tactfully advised her to withdraw, since she was damaging the school’s reputation.

I sat in the car, smiled, and said to the sleeping Lillian inside:

“Lillian, are you happy?”

No one answered me.

Three days later, I got a call from Carter.

He sounded tired: “Miss Avery, going back on your word isn’t very nice, is it?”

I admired my new manicure, replying lightly, “Business is business, Mr. Ellison. You’re used to betrayal and scheming in the business world, right?”

He was speechless.

I smiled, and before hanging up, as if remembering something, I added gently:

“By the way, Mr. Ellison, congratulations to you and Miss Lin on your happy ending.”

“But there’s something Lillian never wanted to tell you. But I’m not her, you know. I’m always happy to help, so here’s a friendly reminder: before dating Harper Lin, you might want to check her background.”

“Like her father, who’s in prison for causing a death while drunk driving—do you know who he killed three years ago?”

On the other end, silence, but his breathing grew heavier.

I started to laugh with satisfaction: “Bet your dad would roll over in his grave.”

When we got that photo, I had Harper thoroughly investigated.

I remember telling Lillian, “Now you don’t need to do anything. Once Carter knows who her father is, those two will break up on their own.”

But Lillian held the photo, looking lost, and asked, “If Carter finds out, he’ll be really sad, won’t he?”

See, even now.

In Carter’s eyes, she’s the ruthless, scheming heiress of the Avery family.

He called her venomous.

He said, business is business, Miss Avery has plenty of tricks, so she should be used to betrayal and scheming, right?

He treated her like that, but she still asked me in a daze:

“If Carter finds out, he’ll be really sad, won’t he?”

That’s what he calls venomous. That’s Lillian.

But it’s alright. I’m not Lillian.

Lillian is afraid he’ll be sad.

I’m not.

The more he hurts, the happier I am.

I kept this secret, just waiting for the moment when they thought they’d finally succeeded, thought their true love had triumphed, thought they’d defeated me, the evil obstacle to their love.

To deliver the final, fatal blow.

Go pursue true love, Carter.

Lillian and I will always wish you well.

It’s just that, before your true love, everything you took from Lillian, I will take back, exactly as it was.

However much you hurt her, I will make you hurt the same.

So satisfying.

A year later.

Lillian’s father had a stroke, and I took full control of his business empire.

He sat in a wheelchair, face twisted, unable to speak or move. I squatted in front of him, holding his old, wrinkled hand, sighed, and said, “Look at you—how did you end up like this?”

He couldn’t answer, just stared at me, making garbled sounds.

That night, I looked in the mirror. No matter how I smiled, I couldn’t see a trace of Lillian.

The person in the mirror had cold eyes, an icy expression.

I called out to the mirror, “Lillian,” just like she used to call me.

I told her her father had had a stroke and been sent to a nursing home.

Finally I said, “I’ve paved the way for you. You’ll never be tired again, so why aren’t you coming back?”

The person in the mirror didn’t respond.

Just stared back coldly.

I sighed.

Lillian woke up in the spring.

The garden was in full bloom, flowers everywhere. I said, “Lillian, wake up. The spring light is so lovely—if you miss it, you’ll have to wait another year.”

It was quiet.

I said, “Alright, it’s fine to be sad for love, but there has to be a time limit. If you keep sleeping, that’s impolite.”

The wind gently swept over the sea of flowers.

We waited. Listened. Then moved.

I laughed at myself and turned to the mountain of documents before me.

When I opened the first one, I heard a soft laugh.

“Spring is so nice, but you’re staring at these headache-inducing numbers. Quinn, I don’t want to look at them.”

I was stunned, then slowly smiled.

I said, “Then let’s not look. We’ll go to Savannah, Aspen, Monterey, Bar Harbor. If you get bored, we’ll go abroad together.”

“The world is so big, the scenery so beautiful—we’ll see it all, step by step.”

She smiled, just like when we first met.

Like a white lily—gentle, shy, pure.

She said, “Alright.”

A long, long time ago, Lillian asked me what I really was—whether I truly existed.

Honestly, I don’t know either.

But does it matter whether I really exist, whether ‘I’ am just a delusion of a mental illness?

It doesn’t matter.

Lillian once told me: I am her sanctuary, the only light in her darkest days.

Life is bitter, but I’ve always believed that pain and its antidote coexist. If you grit your teeth and endure, you’ll find the cure hidden in the pain.

The only one you can rely on in this world is yourself. So love yourself, never give up, just as Joan Didion wrote:

“What of the heart? It is like a boundless, lost ford, stretching for thousands of miles, with no ferryman to take you across. Except for self-rescue, others cannot help.”

Lillian asked me what I am.

I am her, and she is me.

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