Chapter 3
Iris was laughing charmingly, teasingly holding a glass of red wine up to Aaron's lips.
The video ended with the two of them arm in arm, heading into the private suite's lounge.
The implication was clear.
My father's voice echoed from downstairs, calm and authoritative, piercing through the sound of rain and reaching my room with absolute clarity.
He said, "Let the media know. This comes straight from me. He wants to marry my daughter? Tell him to reincarnate into a better family and try again in a hundred years."
His words were like a steady anchor, instantly sweeping away the last traces of my hesitation and the absurd hope that had lingered in my heart.
I turned off the tablet, but that humiliating moment from the video kept replaying in my mind.
So this was what he meant by "talking business", just hooking up with his ex in the lounge.
Was this what he meant by "I made it"?
That was just peak irony.
I changed out of my pajamas, slipped into a simple black dress, and walked out of my room.
Downstairs in the living room, my father was sitting on the couch, sipping his coffee and watching the financial news on TV. He looked detached from the chaos outside, as if the main character of that drama had nothing to do with him.
When he saw me come down, he looked up and waved me over.
"Come here, Nancy. Keep your old man company and have something to eat," he said.
I took a seat next to him.
The butler served up my favorite waffles and creamy mushroom soup.
"Dad," I said softly.
"Hmm?" he replied, setting down his cup and looking at me. "Just say what's on your mind. No matter what happens, your old man's got your back."
I noticed a few strands of gray at his temples that must've appeared without me realizing, and my heart ached.
He'd spent so much time and energy worrying about my marriage.
The Welch family was powerful, and everyone wanted a piece of us. Dad sifted through countless candidates and finally agreed to let me choose Aaron myself. Who could've guessed I was letting trouble walk right in?
"I'm sorry, Dad. I let you down. I trusted the wrong person," I said, my voice trembling.
My father shook his head and reached out, his rough hand gently patting the back of mine.
"Silly girl, this isn't your fault. That guy was too good at pretending. Guess I'm just getting old and can't see things clearly anymore," he said.
He paused, his tone turning sharp. "No daughter of the Welch family ever has to swallow humiliation. If he wants to kneel, let him kneel. I want to see just how tough those knees he's so proud of really are."
I knew exactly what Dad meant.
Aaron's dramatic kneeling in the rain might look like a tragic love story. But in reality, it was a calculated move, taking a step back to push us into a corner.
He was playing the lovesick, pitiful victim, trying to use public opinion to pressure the Welch family and me.
If I softened my heart and forgave him, he'd not only get to marry into the Welch family, but he'd also be crowned as some kind of romantic hero in front of everyone.
If I didn't forgive him, sooner or later, public sympathy would swing his way. People would start seeing the Welch family and me as cold and heartless.
Aaron actually used guilt-tripping. What a move.
Too bad for him. He made one fatal mistake.
My father, Keaton Welch, had never been someone who let the crowd dictate his actions.
And me? I was no longer the kind of girl who let love cloud her judgment.
"Dad, I need to head out," I said.
My father looked at me, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, and nodded.
"Go on. Have the driver take you, and be careful. If anything comes up, call me anytime," he said.
"Yes, Dad," I answered softly.
Half an hour later, a black Bentley rolled to a stop near the villa gates.
The rain had eased up, but it still pattered down.
Aaron was still kneeling there, looking like he might collapse any second. He was soaked and looked pitiful.
The reporters were like sharks smelling blood, swarming around him and leaving him no way out.
I didn't get out of the car. I just rolled down the window.
I dialed Aaron's number.
He picked up almost instantly.
His voice came through, hoarse and eager, tinged with a wild, almost manic joy. "Nancy! Nancy, you finally reached out to me! Please, you have to believe me, I swear I..."
I cut him off, saying, "Aaron. Look up. Look to your left."
Aaron jerked as he was still kneeling in the rain. He snapped his head up, locking eyes with me through the window.
As our gazes met across the rain and glass, the excitement in his eyes instantly vanished.
I watched his lips part, like he was about to say something.
But I spoke first, my voice coming through the line cold and clear. "Do you see me? I'm right here, watching you. While you were putting on your pathetic show for everyone in Otrul, I was right here, watching you like a clown."
All the color drained from his face, leaving him even paler than his rain-soaked white shirt.
"No, Nancy, please, it's not what you think..." Aaron blurted out, panic in his voice. "I just wanted you to know I really love you, I..."