Averi slept until 7 o'clock, a rare late wake-up. I propped up my body and realized that I was resting on Dallas' arm, with an unfamiliar T-shirt on my body.
As soon as he turned his head and met a pair of light colored pupils, his eyes were clear, indicating that he had been awake for some time.
Averi turned over and got out of bed, landing her feet on the ground for a moment. The tingling sensation quickly spread from the spot between her legs, making her almost fall back into bed.
Stretching his legs, he walked into the bathroom to find clothes. His shirt and skirt were all there, except for his underwear, which was probably left in the car. After a night, the dress became even more unsightly, but now she had no choice but to put the clothes full of sexual marks back on her body.
Dallas tidied up one step earlier than her and remained silent as if he didn't exist until he heard her say, "I'm leaving."
He said, "I'll take you out."
Averi refused, "No need, thank you." She could distinguish between night and day clearly.
Before parting ways, Averi suddenly approached and rubbed her lips against his chin, asking, "Next Saturday?" She only gave him two seconds and didn't receive a response. She smiled and left.
Waiting for someone to disappear into the elevator, Dallas only raised his hand to touch the place where she had bumped into.
*
Averi went home to take a shower and change clothes, looking left and right, always feeling something was wrong. Finally, she found the pink lipstick she didn't usually use to cover it up.
There weren't many people in the company on weekends, so she dared to appear with swollen lips. Her office is on the 18th floor. As soon as she got off the elevator, Jordan ran over and said in a low voice, "Averi, someone is looking for you." She paused her gaze on Averi's lips for a while before moving away.
"Is there any plan for today? "She didn't remember.
Jordan shook her head. "No, she wasn't scheduled. She showed up last minute and refused to leave, insisted on waiting for you. I was worried someone might snap a picture, so I let her wait upstairs in the small conference room."
Was it captured by someone?
Averi asked, "Who is it?"
"Rhianna, "Knowing her boss rarely watched TV, Jordan added, "She was last year's beauty pageant second runner-up, a newcomer in the entertainment industry."
"Rhianna." Averi silently recited the name twice and quickly remembered it. With a grunt, she said, "Got it, you can get back to work."
In the small conference room, a young woman wearing oversized sunglasses had a straight waist. She didn't immediately speak when she saw Averi, but waited for a while before slowly taking off her sunglasses. She smiled and said, "Ms. Forbes, hello, I'm Rhianna, sorry to bother you."
Averi glanced at the bandage on her wrist before looking away, her tone polite but distant. "Rhianna, how can I assist you?"
Her reaction was different from anything Rhianna had anticipated. Rhianna was momentarily stunned, then studied her carefully for a long time, her smile tinged with bitterness. "Averi, you know about Milo and me, don't you?"
Averi nodded. "With all due respect, Rhianna, the person you should be speaking to is Milo."
By bursting the bubble so directly, Averi left Rhianna staring at her, wide-eyed. Moments later, tears began to spill down Rhianna's face. "I'm sorry, Averi. I know I shouldn't have come to bother you, but I really love Milo. I love him so, so much. I can't live without him. Could you… please, could you let him go? I'm begging you—let us be together."
She had lost too much weight, looked too worn. Averi could barely reconcile this figure with the vibrant girl in the newspapers, the one wearing a sapphire necklace. Suicide attempts can be staged, tears can be an act, but true exhaustion is hard to fake.
Averi asked, "Does Milo know you came to see me?"
Rhianna panicked instantly. "Averi, please don't tell him. Please don't."
Averi thought for a moment, then asked, "Does your manager know?" After all, she was a public figure; showing up like this to confront the "main woman" was impulsive, to say the least.
Rhianna didn't answer but instead pleaded tearfully, "Averi, I know you're engaged to Milo. But he doesn't love you! He never has. If he did, why would he have stayed with me for so long? I don't understand. You're already so wealthy, so why stay with a man who doesn't love you? Please, let us be together."
Asking a question like that showed she was still a bit naïve. A touch of naivety made her schemes almost endearing. Averi could understand why Milo chose her. Rhianna was young, beautiful, impulsive, and carried a touch of naive innocence. For someone like Milo, impulsiveness and naivety were assets.
Averi looked her in the eyes and asked calmly, "Rhianna, what is your definition of wealth?"
Rhianna froze, tears welling in her eyes but forgetting to fall.
Averi said calmly, "Money is only money within a certain range."
Rhianna: "I don't understand, Averi, what do you mean—"
"Once it goes beyond that range, it's no longer just money; it becomes a person's very life and soul." Her tone was calm, almost gentle. "No one can give up their life and soul. I can't, and neither can Milo. Rhianna, please go."
Rhianna stared at her for a long time, lips trembling, unable to get out a single word of the lines she'd rehearsed. She didn't fully understand what Averi meant, but she had no way to argue back. A deep sense of despair settled over her, leaving her utterly powerless.
Even now, she didn't understand what she'd done wrong, why Milo had suddenly turned against her. That morning, they'd had breakfast together, warm as any ordinary couple. On a whim, she'd asked, "Milo, how often do you see your fiancée each year?" She was with him every day, yet had never seen the fiancée everyone talked about.
Milo said, "Haven't seen much of you."
She felt pleased, even a bit smug, and asked, "What does she look like? Is she prettier than me?"
Milo was sipping his coffee, and upon hearing that, he lifted his gaze briefly and just smiled.
She didn't even know why, but suddenly she felt competitive and had to press, "Say something. Is she some kind of ugly freak? Is that why she hides?"
The more Milo remained silent, the more uneasy she became. The more uneasy she felt, the more stubborn she got, clinging to him, refusing to let him leave.
He pushed her away impatiently. "Rhianna, stop acting crazy."
He was so harsh, so cold, which only made her more anxious, and her temper flared. She threw a pillow at him, screaming hysterically, "Milo, if you walk out that door today, don't come back!"
She was just trying to scare him; all she really wanted was to hear him say, "You're beautiful." It wasn't like she'd really go compare herself to his fiancée. But he left without a backward glance and truly didn't come back to see her.
Even when she ended up in the hospital after slitting her wrist, he only sent his secretary.
Where had it gone wrong? Weren't they doing just fine? She had only asked him one question—whether his fiancée was prettier than she was.
Seeing her today, she finally understood what Milo's smile had meant. His fiancée wasn't some plain Jane—in fact, she was beautiful. Her eyes, nose, and mouth might not stand out individually, but together, they created a look more refined than her own.
How could she compare? All she had to offer was her youth and beauty.
Rhianna, unwilling to give up, murmured softly, "But… but he treats me so well. Anything I want, he gives me. I just mentioned wanting to see snow, and he took me to Switzerland that weekend…" Her voice trailed off, too choked to go on. She covered her face, sobbing as her shoulders shook helplessly.
Averi said nothing, quietly leaving the conference room, allowing her the last shred of dignity.
This was the first time Milo's girlfriend had come to her, and it wouldn't be the last. Averi didn't plan on saying anything. After all, there wasn't much to say. But just because she felt that way didn't mean Milo did.
On Saturday afternoon, the long-unseen Milo suddenly showed up at her office, bluntly asking, "Did Rhianna come to see you?"
She was at the company nearly 365 days a year, so finding her was easy—just come to the office. Milo hadn't expected Rhianna to take this whole thing so seriously.
Averi:"Yeah."
Milo sat on the sofa, watching her from a distance, waiting for her to speak.
Averi reluctantly said, "This is your private matter. I shouldn't interfere. However, I think you could handle it better."
Handle it better? Milo let out a scoff through his nose.
Sure, right.
The day Rhianna came to find her, she had a recording device hidden in her bag. Afterward, she sent the entire recording to him, along with a tirade about how "she doesn't love you at all" and "I can't live without you" nonsense.
Milo didn't remember a word Rhianna said, only that phrase about risking her life.
He smiled, walked up to her, pressed both hands on the desk, leaned down to her eye level, and said, "She recorded your entire conversation from that day."
Averi's expression remained unchanged, "Did she? That's nice."
Milo raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
Averi replied, "If she has the strength to record, then that's good. Better than doing something drastic over love."
Milo didn't reply.
Right, what else did Rhianna say? Something about her lips looking abnormally swollen, clearly from kissing someone.
Averi kissing someone until her lips were swollen? He sneered but couldn't help letting his gaze fall on her lips.
Her mouth wasn't large, but it was full, with a slight upward curve at the cupid's bow, looking soft. What would such lips look like swollen?
He was a bit too close, and the scent of his cologne, as assertive as he was, filled the air. Averi frowned and moved her chair back a little.
The man paused for a moment, then straightened up with a smile. "How long has it been since we last saw each other? Sometimes I almost forget I still have a fiancée. Got plans tonight? If not, let's grab dinner. There's a new spot that just got some Maine lobster—let's go check it out."
"Alright." It had indeed been a long time since they'd last met, and she had no reason to refuse.
