Chapter 4

I turned around slowly.

Eleanor stood less than two meters behind me. Five years have passed, and she has not changed at all. Her coldness pushed people thousands of miles away, acting like an invisible wall to separate us into two worlds.

She did not look at me, and she did not even rest her gaze on me for a second. Her gaze swept over the pale Vanessa on the stage like a scanner, and then it coldly glanced over Julian standing next to me.

"Your grandmother personally wrote that veto power in her will."

Yes, that foundation was my grandmother's dying wish, and I have always held the final veto power tightly in my hands.

Mother could decide who enters the project, but grandmother left a rule—any major appointments and equity transfers cannot take effect as long as I say no.

But Eleanor did not explain further, and her voice echoed in the empty banquet hall with a superior's unique contempt: "This clumsy riot has no meaning, except to prove your continued lack of progress."

At that moment, her sentence smashed the last bit of mother-daughter warmth hidden deep in my heart like an ice cube. The surrounding guests' whispers pierced my skin—"Look, it really is that traitor," "How does she still have the face to come back?"

Julian reacted surprisingly fast, and he moved almost at the instant Eleanor spoke. He took a big step in front of me and steadily wrapped his arms around my shoulders. His strength felt like protection, but it felt even more like an imprisonment to declare sovereignty.

"Ms. Eleanor," Julian's voice was firm and almost provocative, wearing the mask of a deeply affectionate guardian flawlessly. "Claire has suffered enough from the family's cold violence. Excuse us if you are just here to question her rights."

He turned his head and looked at me gently with his eyes full of heartache: "Claire, let us go. Ignore her, and no one here is worth your submission."

Everyone saw a physically and mentally exhausted woman shivering under her fiancé's protection as a fallen daughter.

Everyone did not see that I was staring hard at the patterns on the marble floor at this moment, silently counting seconds in my heart.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

I leaned into Julian's arms, pressing closely against his expensive handmade suit.

I held back that physical nausea, and my lips curled into an extremely cold smile from an unseen angle.

Early the next morning, sunlight passed through the floor-to-ceiling windows and illuminated Julian's office in a pale white color.

He was staring blankly at the annual hotel project contract worth hundreds of millions. He had already sat at this desk for three hours. He pointed to a line of tiny print at the end of the contract, and his tone even carried a hint of acting spoiled: "Claire, can you help me take another look at this clause?"

That was a trap set by himself—a fatal exit clause. Once activated, the deposit would be fully deducted, and the capital chain would break instantly.

If it were five years ago, I would scream and push his hand away. I would run around for him and use all my wisdom to fix this loophole for him.

Now, I just closed the contract gently.

"It looks fine," I said calmly.

Julian let out a long sigh of relief. He kissed my forehead with a natural and intimate movement, and then he took the contract and strode out of the office full of confidence.

But he returned very soon—only two hours later—and he ran into the office again.

Julian was sweating profusely, and his face was full of anxiety and fear. He did not even bother to knock, fiercely crashing the door open and rushing in front of me. He tightly gripped my shoulders with his hands: "Claire, didn't you look at it? Does that contract have no risks? Why is the capital chain broken?!"

I did not soothe his emotions, but spoke with an unprecedentedly capable speaking speed:

"Do not be afraid, because there is only one way to remedy this now. Transfer that unmortgaged retail land plot under Mercer Capital to my private account immediately, and I will step forward to guarantee it to the bank as the agent of the Whitmore family. This is the only way to forcefully fill the funding gap before the market opens tomorrow morning."

Julian was stunned, and he looked at me with eyes full of astonishment after being forced into a dead end, but then the wild joy of "surviving a desperate situation" grew crazily. He almost immediately took out the official seal and ownership certificate, stuffing them into my hands: "Okay, transfer it immediately! Claire, I knew no one could save me except you!"

Looking at his eager appearance almost twisted by over-reliance, I slowly turned around and wrapped my arms around his waist extremely naturally, pressing my face against his trembling back.

I leaned on his shoulder.

I answered in her heart:

Yes.

You still have me now.

So you can watch how I destroy everything you have.

The night grew deeper, and the phone emitted a soft sound on the bedside table.

An anonymous email:

"Do not believe the man sleeping next to you anymore, if you want to know what truly happened five years ago."