Magnus still let me go.
From that day on, we never saw each other again.
We even tacitly avoided each other in all business dealings.
For a time, the two companies that had been locked in a long-standing rivalry had somehow reached an eerie, unspoken truce.
The new vice president was a chatty young woman.
One day, she ran up to me with a piece of gossip. "Lillian, I heard Magnus Everstone has a girlfriend." I absentmindedly touched the wooden cherry blossom ornament on my desk and asked, "Where did you hear that?" She pulled out her phone. "Look at this—he's out shopping with some girl, carrying all her bags. If that's not a girlfriend, what is?" I stared at the photo of Magnus, looking like a dutiful servant, laden with shopping bags as he followed behind a woman. And then, unexpectedly, I laughed.
"That's nice."
The girl shrank back, perhaps sensing the sudden chill in the room, and quickly slipped out. Meanwhile, my parents had been calling non-stop.
"The marriage arrangement we discussed—have you thought it over?" I leaned against the cushion. "I don't want to."
"Then your mother and I will leave our shares to your cousin. Whether you consider this your home anymore is up to you." That was the Rothschild family for you.
It had always been—daughters were never as valuable as sons. In their eyes, I wasn't worth as much as a cousin.
To be honest, my original plan had been to agree to the arrangement. But then… something unexpected happened. I thought for a moment. "Set a time. I'll come home."
What I didn't expect was that my parents had made the engagement known all over the city.
The man they had chosen for me was my age, but had cycled through countless girlfriends. The amount of money he had spent on abortion fees alone each year could buy a luxury car. To celebrate our arranged meeting, our families had organized a grand banquet.
As the city lights flickered on, I wandered aimlessly through the crowd in a cumbersome, custom-made gown.
The so-called heir had long since disappeared, leaving me to entertain the guests alone.
At 7:30 in the evening, a sleek black luxury car emerged from the night.
Magnus Everstone stepped out, a bottle of red wine in hand.
Tonight, his attire was different from usual.
A bit… excessively aristocratic, almost ostentatiously so.
I narrowed my eyes, staring at the watch on his wrist, wondering when Magnus had developed a taste for such flashy, impractical accessories. Under the stunned gazes of the crowd, he made no effort to disguise his intent, striding straight toward me.
Like a wolf locking onto its prey.
That sensation of being hunted had an odd effect on me. Strangely enough… it made me feel at ease.
"Miss Rothschild, I have yet to congratulate you… on finding a good match." Magnus Everstone stood before me, handing over the bottle of red wine. I gave a polite, formulaic smile. "Thank you." Given our long-standing, ruthless rivalry, quite a few people around us were discreetly observing our exchange.
Magnus said nothing more and simply took a nearby seat, his demeanor unbothered.
I accepted his gift and turned my attention to other guests.
There were less than thirty minutes left before the banquet officially began.
My heels were rubbing painfully against my feet, blisters forming from the friction.
Of course—what quality could I expect from something gifted by that entitled heir?
I made my way upstairs, pushing open the door to a bedroom, intending to change into a more comfortable pair of shoes.
But before I could turn on the lights, a figure stepped forward, blocking the doorway.
Magnus Everstone's tall frame cut off the outside light.
My hand tightened around the doorknob. "What do you want?"
He firmly gripped my wrist and pulled me away from the doorframe.
As the door shut behind us, darkness enveloped the room.
In an instant, our breaths intertwined.
"Saw you limping—foot hurts?" Magnus's hands slid down to my waist, his movements slow and deliberate.
I lightly kicked at him. "If you knew, why haven't you let go yet? What if your girlfriend sees it?" Magnus went silent for a moment. "What? My girlfriend?"
"Forgot about the girl you just went shopping with? You really are scum." My words dripped with unexpected bitterness.
His dark eyes studied me for a second before he suddenly grabbed my chin and kissed me fiercely. He had lost his mind.
Humiliated and enraged, I raised my hand to slap him, but he caught both my wrists, pinning them against the wall.
"Don't move."
His voice was low and commanding. "You're jealous over me, but I'm not allowed to make it up to you?" I was about to curse at him again when he spoke first. "She's not my girlfriend. She's my sister—my blood sister."
"Oh? And what does that have to do with me?"
I was breathless, standing on the moral high ground, delivering my argument with exaggerated righteousness. "I'm about to get engaged. Why would I need you to make it up to me? What right do you have?"
"I like you."
The sudden confession made my heart lurch, weightless in my chest.
In the darkness, Magnus's gaze burned like fire, roiling and intense, stirring something unsteady inside me.
Yet I still kept up my bravado, my face flushed. "Then why did you just wish me a happy engagement?"
Magnus chuckled, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes. "Because I am your good match. That pathetic fool can rot wherever he wants."
"Stray mutt…"
Magnus heard me mumbling and, instead of getting mad, he actually laughed—like he was enjoying the insult.
"Say that again?"
"Stray mutt!"
He let out a low, mocking bark. "Woof."
Shameless.
