By December, H City had already turned chilly, but Averi Forbes sat outside in just a light sweater.
The morning air was crisp and sharp, more invigorating than coffee.
She lifted her gaze, taking in the full panoramic view of Victoria Harbour. It really did live up to its reputation as the best view in all of H City, with a price tag so high you still had to wait in line for it. Just as she was lost in thought, a familiar voice sounded behind her. "Penny for your thoughts?" Emmett's deep voice broke through.
The big spender himself pulled out a chair and sat down, grabbed her cup, took a sip, and then wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Tastes like ash water."
The plain, bitter drip coffee—it was a wonder she could swallow it.
"Why are you up so early?"
Milo Hebert had single-lidded eyes—not a traditional looker, but he exuded an aura that suggested he was in control of everything.
Averi shrugged. "Internal clock—just used to it." She was up at 6 a.m. every day, rain or shine, and once six rolled around, there was no going back to sleep.
They'd decided to come to H City last-minute last night, during peak holiday season. Hotels were impossible to book, so she had no choice but to call Milo and ask if it was convenient for him. Every time he stayed in H City, he took the entire suite at the Intercontinental—five bedrooms, more than enough room for an extra guest. She'd asked in advance to avoid any awkward run-ins with other people he might have brought along.
It was convenient, and he even came down to greet her himself at one in the morning, which had surprised her. Then again, it was hardly out of character—this man never lacked gentlemanly manners.
Ignoring the top-notch view, Milo's gaze lingered on the newspaper on the table.
Curious, Averi followed his line of sight and felt a slight twinge of embarrassment.
She'd grabbed it randomly at the airport to pass the time, only focusing on the finance section. She hadn't realized the entertainment pages were far more interesting.
The vibrant young woman in the photo was a stranger to her, but she recognized the necklace around her neck—a one-of-a-kind piece called Blue Star, rare and unmistakable.
Two years ago, Milo had spent a fortune at a renowned international auction's fall event in H City to win the piece as an engagement gift for her. The story even made the tabloids, though neither Milo nor she cared for the spotlight, so only a close-up of the necklace appeared in the papers.
The last time Averi wore it was at an event in H City the previous month. Since she had to fly straight to Singapore afterward, carrying something so valuable was inconvenient, so she'd temporarily entrusted it to Milo for safekeeping.
The H City tabloids, as bold as ever, ran the headline: "Young Star Rhianna Dunn's Secret Romance Revealed. Rumored Boyfriend Tied to Powerful Connections."
There was even a small picture below: Rhianna, ponytail bouncing, smiling brightly as she leaned on a man's shoulder. Despite the man's face being blurred, Averi recognized him immediately—it was Milo.
These paparazzi, always picking on the softer target. They'd blurred Milo's face thoroughly, but Rhianna's joyful expression was clear, down to the fine lines under her eyes.
Averi chuckled and tossed the paper into the trash. "Just grabbed it at the airport."
The man looked at her and suddenly asked, "Are you upset?"
Averi was surprised. "Why would I be? I know you wouldn't." He wouldn't give away an engagement gift to another girlfriend.
It wasn't that she was particularly special to him, but a marriage between their families deserved mutual respect. He wasn't the type to overstep boundaries.
Most likely, his girlfriend had gotten a bit bold, borrowing the necklace to flaunt it, hoping to make the relationship more public. Unfortunately for her, that plan was doomed from the start. Her and Milo's relationship wasn't built on affection or loyalty—it was built on mutual benefit.
As long as his surname remained Hebert, they were an unbreakable couple.
Milo was still looking at her. "If seeing her bothers you, I can ask her to stay out of the spotlight."
His tone was light, but Averi understood—he was willing to end Rhianna's career to show his apology.
She wondered how Rhianna would feel if she knew. Just last night, he'd probably been calling her his "little darling," and now, by morning, he was offering her career as a gift to please another woman.
"No need," Averi said, losing interest in the conversation. After a moment of silence, realizing her tone was a bit harsh, she added, "Making such a big fuss will just make people think there's actually something going on."
Milo didn't reply.
She continued, "I'll wear the necklace to the event tonight. That'll keep people from jumping to conclusions."
He leaned back in his chair, a faint, unreadable smile on his lips. "Out of all six of your family, you're the only one who lives up to your name."
Averi pretended not to catch the veiled sarcasm and smiled. "Thanks for the compliment."
Milo's smile gradually faded, leaving a mix of frustration and irritation. In thirty years of smooth sailing, only she had ever defied him.
She was always so poised, gentle on the surface but utterly unyielding, impervious to his every move. He should have known that anyone who could rise above the Forbes family's brood couldn't truly be mild-mannered.
Cristopher had a notorious reputation as a ladies' man and had been married three times. His first wife, Yoselin, was the only daughter of a city-level Party Secretary, and through her connections, Cristopher launched his business. Yoselin was frail, often bedridden after giving birth to a son and a daughter, and passed away at thirty-six due to illness. Less than six months later, Cristopher married Teagan, the vice president of one of his partner companies. Teagan, a graduate of a prestigious university in S Country, was as beautiful as she was competent, and together they expanded the company to its current size. However, Cristopher's wandering eye never changed, and Teagan wasn't the type to suffer in silence. After ten years of constant battles, they divorced, and she took her share of the assets to start a new life in S Country.
The current Mrs. Forbes, Mareli, is only four years older than Averi, just turned thirty, and gave birth to their youngest son, Santino, earlier this year. Delighted to have a son again in his sixties, Cristopher promptly transferred a villa into her name.
The Forbes family had six children, though the fifth was an illegitimate child, with the mother's identity unknown. Each sibling had a virtue-inspired name. Averi, the third in line, was meant to have a name that embodied thoughtfulness, but her father had already given that to her older sister. So, she became Averi Forbes—a name that suited her, reflecting wisdom and poise.
*
That night, the Intercontinental Hotel's banquet hall was a dazzling sea of elegance, filled with the city's elite.
To be honest, Averi barely qualified to attend this banquet. The Forbes family had only risen under Cristopher's leadership, and to the eyes of these high-society H City ladies, they were still considered nouveau riche. But as Milo's fiancée, even a nouveau riche became highly sought after.
Before the event officially began, people were mingling and chatting, when suddenly a sharp rebuke cut through the peaceful atmosphere: "Then come in and watch me pee!"
The word "pee" jolted everyone, and the lively chatter froze instantly.
Averi looked toward the voice and saw a pale, thin girl glaring furiously at a man in a black suit.
The man was very tall, nearly six foot three by her guess, broad-shouldered and lean-waisted, with an uncommon buzz cut.
Noticing the stares around them, the girl belatedly felt embarrassed, lowered her head, and hurried away. The man in the black suit followed her, his expression unchanging.
Averi couldn't help but take a second look. Sure, his features were striking, but that wasn't why he caught her eye—he just seemed completely out of place. His posture was too straight, his expression too cold. He looked less like someone here for casual mingling and more like he was on the hunt for a wanted fugitive.
She thought this little scene had ended, but soon the two became the center of attention again.
The man grabbed the girl's arm and led her straight out of the banquet hall, the fresh scratches on his face starkly visible. She struggled subtly as they walked, her expression twisted in frustration, refraining from screaming insults only because of the setting.
Averi noticed something smeared under the girl's nose and was still wondering when someone beside her quietly offered an explanation.
"Ms. Forbes, do you know Ms. Mcdowell?"
Averi shook her head.
The other person chimed in, "That's got to be Beatrice Mcdowell, the youngest daughter of Mr. Mcdowell, the chairman of H Group, right? I almost didn't recognize her. But who's the guy with her?"
"Probably her new bodyguard."
"A bodyguard? Doesn't look like one."
Averi thought, he really didn't look the part—bodyguards were supposed to be forgettable in appearance, and he was anything but.
"Right, I heard he was a former special forces soldier, even did peacekeeping missions overseas."
"Peacekeeping? Isn't that a bit overboard? Did Chairman McDowell get a blackmail letter or something?"
"Oh, you didn't hear? Miss Mcdowell picked up some bad habits abroad and was confined at home for over two years. Now that she's out, it seems she's clean. As for the bodyguard, maybe Chairman McDowell's worried her old friends might come back to bother her."
"You mean...drugs? She dared mess with that stuff? She's bold."
"Who wouldn't agree?"
Averi listened quietly, piecing together the evening's story. Miss Mcdowell hadn't been able to resist—or maybe she'd planned from the start to sneak a hit during the event, thinking she'd be safe in the ladies' restroom. But she hadn't expected her new bodyguard to be so unyielding.
Thanks to Ms. Mcdowell, this year's banquet was much more entertaining than usual.
Averi chuckled and put the two of them out of her mind.
