Milo knew that a Montblanc pen alone wasn't enough to express his apology, so he quickly disclosed another piece of information to Averi: next year, over 8,000 gas stations would be upgrading their equipment and opening up for public bidding.
This matter had nothing to do with the Forbes family but everything to do with Teagan, who was involved in the oil industry in S Country. It was a sure-win business, but Averi didn't immediately respond. Teagan had been away for many years and had even taken citizenship in S Country, leaving few domestic resources behind.
Milo understood her hesitation and provided her with a contact a few days later.
Averi caught on and proactively arranged a meeting to discuss a collaboration.
He was a second-generation heir, carrying on the family business, but he didn't exactly play by the rules. Instead of a typical meeting spot, he set their meetup at a karaoke bar. Sensing her hesitation, he even encouraged her to relax and not focus only on work—said she needed a little work-life balance.
Averi couldn't help but laugh at the situation.
At nine in the evening, she arrived on time for the appointment, only to encounter a familiar face at the KTV entrance.
Beatrice stepped forward to greet her, "Ave? I never expected to see you here."
Ave?
When will you endure it.
Averi offered a polite smile. "Hello."
They hadn't met before, but Beatrice had heard about the driver-borrowing incident from her brother, which prompted her to say hello. The Forbes family was significant, yet who would ultimately take control remained uncertain. Averi herself wasn't worth her enthusiasm, but Milo behind her was.
Unfazed, Beatrice continued, "Did you come alone? Want to join us?"
"Thanks, but I already have an appointment," Averi replied, casually scanning the surroundings.
Since Beatrice was here, he should be here too.
"Is that so? What a pity. Let's meet up next time then," Beatrice said just as Dallas appeared with car keys in hand. Seeing that familiar figure, he paused mid-step.
The woman's gaze swept over his face briefly, as if she didn't recognize him at all.
Beatrice kept making small talk, "Ave, your dress is beautiful."
Averi smiled, glanced at her watch, and said, "Thank you. I'll head in first; let's chat another time." Her tone was polite, yet subtly distant.
Beatrice felt slightly awkward but didn't dare to show her annoyance, forcing a strained smile and replying, "Alright."
Once Averi's slender figure disappeared from sight, Beatrice's smile vanished, and she sneered, "What's she acting all high and mighty for? She's just got herself a man." With that, she quickly walked back to her room, not noticing that the man behind her was following a step slower.
Upon entering the room, Averi realized that the heir hadn't just invited her but had also brought along a large group of friends, fully embracing the concept of work-life balance.
The group sang and drank, partying well past midnight with no sign of stopping. Inevitably, Averi had a few drinks, which left her stomach uneasy and her head buzzing. She headed to the restroom to wash her face and find a moment of peace. Just as she entered, she heard Beatrice's voice through the door, "Dallas! Let go of me!"
Averi turned off the faucet and listened quietly.
"You don't say it, I don't say it, who would know?"
"Is it really necessary? It's just a job. Don't worry about me. I'll give you an extra one thousand a month. How about that?"
"Don't push it!"
"Let go of me!"
From beginning to end, it was a one-woman show by Beatrice; the other person remained silent.
It wasn't just her craving kicking in; anyone would go crazy after spewing insults without a single response.
In this light, she was indeed talented—able to provoke him to the point of taking action.
Averi pushed the door open, stopping when she saw the two at the entrance, feigning surprise as she looked at them. Her gaze quickly skimmed over Dallas and settled on Beatrice's face.
Beatrice had her hand raised awkwardly mid-air, her face filled with embarrassment, while Dallas bore a fresh scratch on his neck, blood beginning to bead. Beatrice had her hand raised awkwardly mid-air, her face filled with embarrassment, while Dallas bore a fresh scratch on his neck, blood beginning to bead.
"Ave, what are you doing here?"
The question was pointless. Averi simply replied with a neutral "Mm," and said, "Excuse me."
"Oh, right, sorry." Beatrice quickly stepped aside.
Averi gave her a polite nod and walked off.
Her heels clicked rhythmically, each step echoing in Dallas's ears.
After two steps, she seemed to remember something, turned around, and said, "Oh, Beatrice, I was just on the phone with Chairman Mcdowell and happened to mention running into you here. That's not a problem, right?"
Beatrice's face turned pale, but she forced a smile, saying, "No, no problem. I was just about to head home, actually."
Averi smiled, "Good, then," and turned to leave.
Beatrice cursed her luck under her breath, ruffling her hair in frustration. "Let's go home," she muttered irritably.
On the way back, Beatrice grew more and more anxious, feeling restless. Though no one had explicitly banned her from entering the karaoke bar, who knew what that woman might tell her father? After all the effort she'd made to get out of the rehab center, was she really going to end up back there?
She glanced at Dallas's profile and suddenly had an idea.
He was actually quite handsome, albeit a bit cold and rough, but that ruggedness had its own charm. Compared to her previous boyfriends, he was more masculine. From this perspective, she wouldn't be losing out.
When Dallas first arrived, Beatrice had treated him decently. But growing up spoiled, she quickly grew impatient with his aloofness. If he were uglier, she might've ignored him, but his striking appearance made her feelings more complicated.
Beatrice shifted her position to face him directly in the driver's seat, her fingers with bright red nail polish lightly grazing his arm.
Just as her hand touched him, Dallas, in the motion of turning the steering wheel, shook her off without so much as a glance.
He could have rejected her in a more tactful, considerate way.
But today, he simply didn't have the patience.
Beatrice was stunned, her pride deeply wounded, and a trace of disbelief lingered.
She was young, gorgeous, sexy, and wealthy—any time she made a move, there wasn't a man she couldn't have. And yet he actually had the nerve not to be interested?
Just as she was about to lash out, the car came to a stop. They had arrived home.
She shot Dallas a fierce glare, not waiting for him to open the door, and stormed inside. She saw Manuel Mcdowell sitting on the couch reading a newspaper, feeling both relieved and slightly puzzled.
"Dad, still up this late?" she called sweetly, sidling over in a playful manner while secretly observing his expression.
His daughter was behaving well, so Manuel smiled and said, "You're back."
Unlike Cristopher, he was a doting father who firmly believed that her behavior was due to bad influences. Whenever she tearfully vowed to reform, he couldn't help but soften and take her back.
After a while, Beatrice grew uneasy and asked tentatively, "Dad, did Averi tell you anything?" After a while, Beatrice grew uneasy and asked tentatively, "Dad, did Averi tell you anything?"
"Who?"
"Ave."
"What would she tell me?" Manuel was even more puzzled.
Beatrice was stunned, blurting out, "She didn't call you?"
"Why would she call me?" Manuel frowned. "Beatrice, have you been out causing trouble again?"
"No, Dad, really, no. I just went out to eat, and when I saw it was getting late, I came back quickly. You can ask Dallas if you don't believe me."
Beatrice realized she had been played, and anger swelled inside her. But she was afraid Manuel would catch on, fearing that saying more would lead to more mistakes, so she changed the subject. "Dad, what were you just looking at?"
Beatrice ran out of the car, leaving her bag inside. Dallas brought it in for her and overheard the father-daughter conversation.
He placed the bag on the corner cabinet by the door, closed it, stood in the shadows for a moment, and then left.
Before getting in the car, he looked up at the sky on a whim.
Tonight, it was a rare clear night, the deep night sky completely cloudless, with a few scattered stars quietly twinkling.
The starlight was gentle, as if it were the eyes of a lover.
