Chapter 5
[The female lead finally makes her entrance. She's absolutely stunning!]
[The canon couple is sharing the screen! I'm tearing up!]
[Look at the way the male lead is gazing at her—it's that look of yearning, like he can't have her.]
I turned to look at Russell.
He was just checking his phone, replying to work messages.
What yearning gaze?
He was obviously just on his phone.
After a few rounds of drinks, the mood loosened up.
Dennis raised his glass, flashed a friendly smile, and made his way over.
"Russell, it's been a while. How've you been?" he asked.
Russell just gave him a quick look and stayed silent.
Dennis's lips curled into a smirk.
"Oh, right, I forgot you can't talk anymore," he said, then shook his head and sighed.
"Back then, you were the youngest CEO of a listed company in Hamburg. Now you're stuck in a wheelchair... Makes me feel so bad for you."
Russell just stared at him, his face cold and unreadable.
Then Dennis turned to me, arching his eyebrow.
"Hey, Alma, what's Russell supposedly trying to say with all those gestures? Care to interpret for us?" Dennis teased.
Russell hadn't even moved a muscle.
Instead, I pointed right at Dennis's mouth.
"My husband says—" I began.
The whole room went quiet, waiting for me to translate.
"There's a bit of greens stuck in your teeth," I said.
I covered my nose and scrunched up my face. "And your breath is pretty bad. Seriously, it's strong."
Everyone in the room was trying not to laugh.
Dennis's face went stiff.
The comment section was absolutely losing it.
[I'm dying laughing!]
[She's got a wicked tongue!]
[She might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but her comebacks are on point!]
Dennis's mom, Patricia, was his father's longtime mistress. She'd climbed her way up thanks to her son, and she was a pro at throwing shade.
She spoke up, her voice soft and almost mocking. "Alma, I heard you're the Schultz family's only daughter? Now that I've met you, I can see you really are... quite something."
Then she turned to Monica. "Monica, you brought your drawing, right? Why not show everyone?"
Monica hesitated for a moment, then pulled a rolled-up drawing out of her bag.
She unrolled it.
It was a sketch portrait.
It was a portrait of herself.
The lines were delicate, and in the corner, there was a small inscription: "To Monica, Russell."
Patricia let out a sigh.
"Russell personally drew this for Monica back in the day," she said.
"They were such a perfect pair—a talented guy and a beautiful girl, a match made in heaven.
"What a pity," Patricia sighed, her tone full of nostalgia.
Monica kept her head down, her lashes trembling as her gaze flickered toward Russell.
The comment section was going wild.
[It's the male lead's love token for the female lead.]
[The female lead still has it. She's always loved the male lead.]
[Ugh, my heart! The angst is killing me! My canon couple.]
I turned to look at Russell.
He finally moved.
He lifted his hand, picked up his glass, and took a drink.
Putting the glass down, he just kept scrolling on his phone.
So this is what the comment means by "yearning for the woman he can't have." Seriously?
Once the drawing was unrolled, the applause was sparse.
Elise remarked that it was well done.
Dennis jumped in right away. "Monica's skilled in everything—music, chess, painting, you name it.
"So, Alma, what are you good at? Care to impress us?"
All eyes were on me.
Everyone was just waiting for me to embarrass myself.
I stood up.
"Me?" I said, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm good at kickboxing, wrestling, and MMA—take your pick."
Elise's eyes lit up.
"Oh? How about showing us what you've got?" she said, sounding intrigued.
I had someone move the tables and chairs aside to clear some space.
Then I got into position.
I'd been training with my dad since I was a kid, and I even took home the provincial kickboxing title in college.
I might not be good at much else, but when it comes to throwing hands, that's my specialty.
I ran through a full combo, fists flying.
Quick, sharp, and ruthless.
As I wrapped up, I threw a punch that stopped just short of Dennis's face.
The rush of air skimmed right past his nose.
Everyone gasped.
Dennis turned white as a sheet.
"You—" he sputtered.
I grinned. "Easy there. Just fixing your bangs for you—can't have them blocking your view. Maybe this way, you'll get a broader view of the world."
The whole room went dead silent.
Then Elise burst out laughing.
She was laughing so hard she was practically doubled over.
"Good! Good! No wonder Russell likes you," she said, still laughing.
Dennis's face turned as dark as a thundercloud.
Patricia forced a smile, her teeth clenched. "But girls really ought to be more gentle, not all this rough-and-tumble business..."
I nodded.
"You're absolutely right, Patricia.
"How about I give Dennis a little eyebrow trim?" I suggested, grinning. "His brows look like a weed patch."
The whole room burst out laughing.
Elise slapped the table, laughing. "Now that's a Schultz girl for you!"
I sat back down.
Russell looked up at me.
He quietly signed with his hand. "Great one,"
I leaned in and whispered, "Nothing special."
His lips curved into a faint smile.
But I caught it.
Once the party wrapped up, it was time for the Mills family's yearly golf game.
Dennis walked over, rocking a polo shirt and swinging a golf club.
"Russell used to be the king of golf around here, but now all he can do is sit on the sidelines and watch," he said, his tone full of mock pity.
He shook his head, acting like he was genuinely upset. "Such a shame, really."
Here he went again.
But Russell just ignored him.
He turned to me and signed, "No worries. My wife's a pro at teeing off."
I stood there stunned for a couple seconds, cheeks flushing.
"Oh, shut up!" I blurted out, cheeks burning.
Chat exploded with comments.
[Wait, did the male lead just praise Monica? Am I seeing this right?]
[No way, he's just being polite.]
[Maybe he's just stating the facts...]
I was still trying to figure out how to jump in. Suddenly, there was a sharp screech of tires.
From the parking lot, a runaway golf cart came barreling straight toward us.
"Russell, watch out!" Monica yelled.
The golf cart came barreling straight at Russell Mills in his wheelchair.
Everything happened in a heartbeat.
Out of nowhere, he jumped up from his wheelchair.