Seeing his sour expression, Averi said helplessly, "Don't look at me like that, Milo. I've never interfered with your affairs outside."
Milo couldn't tell if she was being serious or not, so he got up and walked over to her. "Averi, don't treat me like an idiot. I know exactly why you married me, and talking about true love at this point is just meaningless. Besides, I've never asked anything of you. Since you choose to ignore me, there's no need for me to force myself onto you."
This was the first time they were putting these thoughts out in the open. Perhaps because the wedding was drawing near, Milo thought it was time to talk things through.
Averi looked up at him. "Sure, on a personal level, I owe you. But, Milo, if we're talking business, I don't think I'm in the wrong. I never once complained about the 'partners' you introduced, and I've always made sure they got exactly what they were due—and sometimes more. As long as I can still justify things at the office, I've gone above and beyond to make it work."
Milo had nothing to say to that. A marriage alliance was, after all, about mutual benefit—there was no way one side would endlessly give without return. True, he had cleaned up a few messes for Eli and handled some issues on her behalf, but Averi had brought him considerable benefits as well. She'd managed several projects for him where he needed to keep a low profile, skillfully navigating situations that required a delicate touch.
Averi continued, "Moreover, I don't think you've ever forced yourself onto me." Her tone was calm, showing no hint of resentment. "I admit I haven't paid much attention, but wasn't that the very reason you chose me?"
Caught red-handed, Milo found himself at a loss, softening his stance. "Averi, what's gotten into you today?"
"Pre-wedding jitters, I guess."
"I promise you, I'll have everything sorted out before the wedding."
Averi raised an eyebrow. "You're willing to let it go?"
Milo smiled. "Nothing to hold me back."
"The girl who made you beef stew—you're really willing to let her go?"
Milo thought for a moment before recalling what she meant, his frustration fading almost entirely. "Are you upset because of her?"
"Milo? Now, I'm asking you, can you let go of Zoie Mercado?"
Milo dodged the question. "You've checked on her?" Otherwise, how would she know her name?
Averi remained silent. It was Teagan who had done the digging. Teagan believed these matters should be cleared up before the wedding and had specifically arranged for a thorough investigation into all of Milo's women. Averi didn't care much, having taken a glance at the information before setting it aside, not expecting it to come in handy today.
Though Milo asked, his tone wasn't harsh. Her investigation indicated she cared, and her unusual behavior was likely due to Zoie. As for the bodyguard, he had only mentioned it in passing; coincidences like that were rare, and he didn't think Averi would lose her mind over love. Her evasive answer probably meant she was intentionally trying to rile him up, focusing on Zoie in her words.
Averi's rare display of temper didn't annoy Milo; rather, it piqued his interest.
"She's been with you all this time, and you've never thought about being with her?" Averi asked, her tone carefully measured.
Milo scoffed. "Her?"
That single word, laced with disdain, clearly conveyed: She's not worthy.
Averi remained silent.
Milo took her silence as a sign of displeasure and spoke softly, "Averi, I know I let you down last time, but not this time." It was as close to an apology as he could manage.
Last time, he had indeed broken up with Zoie. She cried and begged him to stay, sending messages almost daily to express her longing. Unlike Rhianna, Zoie knew her place and understood the art of playing weak, never pushing him too far. After a while, they met at a friend's gathering and ended up sleeping together again that night.
Milo inwardly regretted his decision, wishing he hadn't been so soft-hearted.
Averi neither confirmed nor denied his words, sitting quietly for a moment before getting up. "I'll head back to the office."
"Alright, I'll see you off."
Milo escorted her downstairs, opening the car door and watching her drive away, displaying perfect gentlemanly manners.
The more courteous he was, the more it highlighted his indifference.
After a few traffic lights, Averi pulled over to the side of the road, resting her head on the steering wheel in deep thought.
Today, she'd come to feel out Milo's intentions. As far as she knew, Zoie—the girl who made him beef stew—had stayed by his side longer than any of his other girlfriends. She figured that if Milo genuinely cared for Zoie, teaming up with her would make it much easier to dissolve the engagement.
But now, she realized how naive she had been.
She didn't expect Milo to bluntly say, "Yes, I love Zoie, and I want to marry her," but his response to her questioning—his silence, his deflection, and especially his disdain—was telling.
Averi took a deep breath, deciding to stick to her original plan.
With the wedding date set, calling off the engagement would be a public humiliation to the Hebert family, and Edward wouldn't let it slide easily. Milo wasn't the type to accept being dumped gracefully either, so she needed to find a way to make the Hebert family reject her.
After some thought, Averi dialed Jordan's number.
"Hello, Averi."
"Hey, Jordan, how's the wound?"
"It's okay. The doctor prescribed me some painkillers, and I feel a lot better after taking them." She reported, "Boss, the doctor said I can be discharged next week."
"No rush. After you're discharged, take some time to rest at home and recover. I'll call you if anything comes up."
"Thank you, Averi. Is there anything you need me to do right now?"
Averi said, "Actually, yes. Get in touch with PR and have them arrange an interview for me in the next couple of days." She could have contacted PR herself, but after some consideration, she decided it would be easier to have Jordan handle it, both to cut down on hassle and to smooth out follow-up steps.
On the other end, Jordan's eyes widened in surprise. A boss who'd never allowed a single public photo was now actively requesting an interview?
"Got it. I'll reach out to them right away."
"Thanks."
"Averi, PR's Linda is gonna be over the moon about this."
Averi laughed, "Take care and rest up."
PR worked swiftly, and three days later, they presented a shortlist of media outlets for Averi to review. She chose two: a serious business weekly and a popular online media outlet with a large audience.
For the business weekly interview, Averi made a statement: she styled her hair into voluminous waves, applied a bold shade of lipstick that most businesswomen avoided, and strutted in on red-bottomed stilettos, giving a sultry smile to the camera.
As expected, once the weekly was published, the Forbes family's third daughter immediately drew a lot of attention. The social media interviews followed closely, and this time, Averi dressed with a more alluring, effortless style, fully embracing her feminine appeal. She also began making frequent appearances at public events, posing for photos with celebrities, and even made it to the trending topics for a while.
Cristopher's past affairs resurfaced, and the mix of a complicated family background and her striking appearance made Averi a hot topic. Gossip articles about her circulated wildly, some flattering, others less so. Averi had instructed the PR team beforehand to ignore it all, claiming she wasn't a celebrity and the buzz would soon die down. Little did they know, this was precisely the effect she wanted.
This was only step one.
That night, after attending yet another unremarkable gala, Averi returned to her small apartment, changed into her pajamas, and checked her phone.
The conversation thread was filled with photos she'd sent, yet there had been no response from him.
Dallas had told her this number was rarely active, and if she needed to reach him, she should use the satellite phone.
What a killjoy. So, what about when there wasn't an "emergency"?
Averi scoffed softly, picked up her phone, walked into the bathroom, lifted her nightgown, posed with her backside facing the mirror, and snapped a photo, which she promptly sent.
No words, just the picture, and in it, nothing but a perfectly rounded, pale backside.
What would his reaction be when he finally turned on his phone and saw those pictures?
Averi imagined his expression and couldn't help but laugh.
