Chapter 4

The annual charity auction was in full swing at the town's community center.

The auctioneer held up an exquisite Victorian vase, its glazed surface shimmering under the lights. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is an 1890 antique piece, starting at eight thousand dollars."

I raised my paddle. "Eight thousand five hundred."

Nolan sat two seats to my right.

"Nine thousand!" another bidder called out.

"Ten thousand." I continued bidding, deliberately letting my voice carry a slight tremor.

The price climbed all the way to fifteen thousand dollars. When the auctioneer was about to bring down the gavel, I "nervously" stood up to applaud—then "accidentally" bumped into the table.

The vase traced a graceful arc through the air, then...

Crash!

Shards scattered everywhere, and the entire venue fell silent.

"Oh my God! That was an 1890 Victorian vase!" The auctioneer's voice was trembling.

I immediately covered my face, putting on a perfect display of shock and remorse. "I was so nervous... I'm so sorry! What do I do? I can't afford something this expensive!"

People around me began whispering, some looking at me with sympathy, others frowning. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, including Nolan's razor-sharp gaze.

He slowly stood up, maintaining a perfect paternal smile on his face, but I could see the veins bulging on his clenched fists.

"Accidents happen." He walked to my side, his voice eerily calm. "I'll handle this."

The auctioneer breathed a sigh of relief. "Mr. Cross, thank you so much..."

"Don't worry about it." Nolan's hand touched my shoulder, but the contact felt more like a warning. "It was just an unfortunate accident."

After the event, Nolan drove me home. The silence in the car was colder than a blizzard.

He didn't speak until we stopped in front of my house. "This is the last time. Your accidents are getting too expensive."

He pulled out a check from his suit jacket and handed it to me. "Twenty thousand dollars. Five thousand more than the vase was worth, to compensate for your... emotional distress tonight."

When I took the check, my fingers deliberately brushed against his hand.

"Nolan..." I let my voice carry a hint of a sob. "I really didn't do it on purpose."

His eyes flickered for a moment, but quickly returned to their cold hardness.

The next afternoon, I was reading at the Main Street café, enjoying a rare moment of peace. Until a familiar figure appeared outside the window.

Nolan was walking into the restaurant with a woman. She had golden wavy hair and wore a custom black suit, every movement radiating the elegance of an urban elite. When she turned her head, I could see her refined features—perfect makeup, confident smile.

I'd seen their photos together. This woman was Nolan's legendary ex-girlfriend.

I put down my book and chose a corner seat where I could clearly observe them.

"Nolan, I've been missing..." her voice was crisp and pleasant, "missing us."

Nolan's smile toward her was gentler than any I'd ever seen. That tenderness made my chest suddenly tighten.

"You look great, Victoria. City life suits you."

Watching Nolan pull out her chair, pour water for her.

"I'm considering coming back to open a branch office." Victoria elegantly cut her salad with a fork. "We could start over."

I had always thought what I wanted from Nolan was just money, that this was all just a game, an opportunity to make money. But now, watching their intimate interaction, I realized—I was jealous.

Damn it, I was really jealous.

Two days later, Victoria was invited to the Cross house for dinner. The Cross family's housekeeper had prepared a lavish meal at Linda's request, with fresh flowers arranged in the living room, as if welcoming someone important.

Victoria arrived promptly, wearing an expensive gray suit. She brought an expensive bottle of wine, discussed legal topics with Robert, and praised Linda's decorating taste. She was perfect.

This made me even more disgusted.

Halfway through dinner, I found my opportunity. When everyone was focused on Victoria's stories about New York life, I "accidentally" knocked over a wine glass.

The red wine splashed like blood across her perfect gray suit.

"Oh no!" I immediately jumped up, forcing a convincing look of horror onto my face. "Victoria, I'm so sorry! I was just trying to pour wine for everyone..."

Then I began the most spectacular performance of my acting career. Tears instantly welled up, my voice began to tremble.

"I just wanted to make everyone happy... why do I always mess everything up?" I covered my face, my shoulders shaking from "crying." "I'm such a disaster! I can't do anything right!"

Victoria stood up, looking at her wine-stained suit, a flash of disgust crossing her face. She was clearly a master at controlling emotions, but I could see she was suppressing her anger.

Nolan once again displayed his "problem-solving" approach. He walked to my side and gently patted my shoulder.

"Stop crying, Iris. This isn't your fault." He turned to Victoria. "I'll compensate you for the damage."

Linda asked Victoria, "Dear, are you alright?"

But what I was most concerned about was Victoria's reaction. Something flickered in her eyes—doubt? Disappointment?

The rest of the dinner passed in awkwardness. Victoria left early, politely declining Nolan's offer to drive her home.

"I'll call my own car." She said at the door, looking at Nolan with completely different eyes. "Maybe we should reconsider... everything."

After the door closed, the living room fell into silence.

Nolan looked at me with complex emotions I'd never seen before in his eyes. Anger, exhaustion, and something else I couldn't read.

"Go upstairs." His voice was low. "Now."

I obediently went upstairs, but my mood was unusually cheerful.