He typed out a message: [Grandpa’s birthday party is tomorrow. Are you back from your trip yet?]
An hour passed in agonizing silence before Whitney replied with a single question mark.
Frustration flared within him.
He shot back: [Whitney, enough with the attitude. Don’t you realize how significant Grandpa’s birthday party is?]
Whitney, having just stepped out of her shower, caught sight of Carter’s message and instead of feeling anger, she let out a bitter laugh.
She typed back: [We’ve broken up. I won’t be attending your grandpa’s birthday party tomorrow. Bring whoever you want.]
Carter’s patience was wearing thin. [Still playing these games? Who said we broke up? I’m picking you up at seven tomorrow. Whitney, you know how much Grandpa cares about you. Do you really want to disappoint him on his birthday?]
His message was a blend of urgency and frustration, a silent plea for her understanding.
Whitney scoffed coldly at her screen. [I can go with you, but you need to pay my appearance fee right now.]
She sent over her bank account details, adding, [Just mark it as a service fee in the memo.]
Carter’s irritation deepened as he read her message. He was utterly perplexed by the lengths Whitney was going to this time.
Yet, too drained to argue, he transferred $300,000 without a second thought.
Moments later, Whitney checked her account and replied: [Thanks, boss!]
She couldn’t muster the energy for any further conversation; anything beyond that felt like an unnecessary drain on her spirit.
Whitney made her entrance at the villa precisely on time, her presence striking in a form-fitting purple bodycon dress that hugged her figure perfectly. The fabric clung to her curves, accentuating her silhouette, while the vibrant hue complemented her fair, flawless skin. Her slightly wavy hair was casually swept back with a delicate white ribbon, adding a playful touch to her elegant appearance. Her eyes sparkled with an inner light, and her smile, dazzling as it was, carried an air of cool detachment that intrigued yet unsettled those around her.
As Carter stepped out of the car, he caught a glimpse of Whitney gliding into the courtyard. It was a sight he had never witnessed before; she looked utterly captivating in that dress. The fitted design softened the angular lines of her face, giving her an unexpectedly gentle aura, yet there was an undeniable edge to her beauty-a dangerous allure that sent a rush of heat through his veins.
Carter’s brows knitted together in a frown, his voice cold and clipped. “You need to change into something else,” he commanded, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
Whitney let out a soft scoff, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And why should I do that?” she shot back, a hint of defiance in her tone.
Carter’s jaw tightened as he replied, “It’s Grandpa’s birthday party. You can’t walk in dressed like that. You’re just going to attract too much attention.”
With a graceful motion, Whitney opened the back door of the car. “That’s precisely the point, Carter. Perhaps at your funeral, I’ll consider wearing something more subdued,” she retorted, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Whitney,” he growled, his teeth clenched in irritation.
Unfazed, Whitney slid into the back seat, ignoring him completely.
Carter, feeling the weight of the evening’s expectations pressing down on him, slid into the driver’s seat and barked, “Get in the front. I’m not your chauffeur.”
Whitney’s gaze flicked to the pearl earrings carelessly tossed on the front seat, her expression turning icy. “I’d rather not ruin my dress. The front seat looks like a disaster zone,” she replied coolly.
Carter pondered for a moment if Whitney was experiencing some sort of hormonal imbalance, as her sudden outburst seemed unwarranted. But then he recalled that her cycle usually came at the end of the month, and he dismissed the thought.
Time was slipping away, and the pressure was mounting. As the eldest grandson of James, he couldn’t afford to be late to the celebration.
Once he parked the car, Carter extended his arm, waiting for Whitney to take it, a gesture of reluctant civility.
Whitney shot him a look filled with disdain, but then a flicker of realization crossed her mind-it was James’s birthday, after all. She couldn’t embarrass him, not today.
With a sigh, she retrieved a silk scarf from her purse, wrapping it around her palm before looking up at him. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” she said, a hint of resignation in her voice.
The simple act of wrapping the scarf made Carter’s temples throb with frustration.
“Whitney, don’t distance yourself so much. Are you really that annoyed by me?” he snapped, unable to hide his irritation.
She offered a faint smile, one that barely reached her eyes. “Is it that obvious? I’ll try to keep my feelings in check for the evening,” she replied, her tone light but her words heavy with meaning.
As they stepped into the party hall, all eyes turned toward them, and the atmosphere shifted. Carter, with his striking looks, was an undeniable magnet for attention. His star-bright eyes and chiseled features made him appear almost ethereal, and though a faint smile graced his lips, it carried an icy undertone that kept people at a distance.
As the eldest son of the Harris family, the most influential clan in Ravorport, everyone was eager to ingratiate themselves with him.
He clasped Whitney’s hand through the silk scarf, his touch warm and reassuring. “I need to say hello to a client. Enjoy yourself,” he said, his voice steady.
Whitney offered a dismissive smile, quickly slipping her hand free. The scarf had trapped the warmth of her palm, now slick with sweat, and she felt a wave of annoyance wash over her.
Carter’s annoyance was palpable, but he had larger matters to attend to. He turned away, his expression still cool and detached.
No sooner had he walked away than a gaggle of nosy onlookers descended upon Whitney like vultures.
“Well, look who it is-the fiancée that Carter can’t seem to shake off,” one woman sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Didn’t someone just swear a few days ago that she’d never cling to him?”
Whitney shot the woman a frosty glare. “What, is Carter suddenly incapable of having children?” she quipped, her sarcasm sharp enough to cut through the tension.
The woman, clearly intent on provoking her, retorted, “What nonsense are you spouting?”
Whitney’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, I did swear. But if he truly can’t have kids, doesn’t that mean I’ve broken my promise? Why don’t you go ahead and test that theory for me?”
“You!” The woman’s voice was laced with fury, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
The girls surrounding her gawked at Whitney, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.
“Has Whitney completely lost her mind? Did she really just suggest someone seduce her own fiancé?” they thought, their jaws nearly dropping to the floor.
“Enjoy the spotlight while you can. Once Emily arrives, you’ll feel like a ghost,” the woman taunted, her words meant to sting.
Whitney nearly forgot about Emily. As the Harris family’s golden girl, she was certain to make an appearance at such a significant occasion.
Just then, another voice cut through the chatter. “Whit, Mom and I have been trying to reach you for days! Why have you been ignoring us?”
Whitney turned to see Tina Moore, her half-sister, marching toward her, clearly irritated.
Tina’s eyes flicked to the impeccably dressed woman beside her-her stepmother, Laura Moore. Laura offered a saccharine smile and said, “Whit, didn’t you mention that you and Carter would be getting your marriage license on Valentine’s Day? Funny, I haven’t seen a single post about it in our family group chat.”
Whitney looked away, pulling out her phone. “Oh, my bad! I must have accidentally left the group. Looks like you three are managing just fine without me. My presence doesn’t seem to matter much, does it?”
Her father, Samuel Moore, was absent today, a reminder of the chasm that had formed in their family. Since her mother passed away when Whitney was just three, and her father remarried a mere three months later, it felt as though she had lost him too.
“Whitney, what’s that supposed to mean? Can you at least try to be respectful to my mom?” Tina snapped, her eyes blazing with indignation.
Before Whitney could respond, Tina’s expression shifted to one of excitement. “Emily’s here! Mom, I have to go say hi!”
Laura smiled faintly. “Just be careful. Don’t trip.”
“Don’t take it personally, Whit. Emily can be a bit hot-headed. She and Tina are practically inseparable, and it’s been five years since they last saw each other. You can understand her excitement, right?” Laura added, her tone attempting to soothe the situation.
“By the way, does Carter know his sister is back?” Laura inquired, her eyes glimmering with curiosity.
Everyone in their social circle was well aware of Carter’s affection for his adopted sister, Emily. He spoiled her so much that whispers circulated-if Emily hadn’t been adopted by the Harris family, perhaps Carter would have chosen her as his fiancée instead.
But no one would ever dare voice such thoughts in front of the Harrises.
Years ago, James had made it abundantly clear that Emily was, and always would be, the daughter of the Harris family, and any rumors to the contrary would be swiftly quashed.
Whitney remained silent, choosing to keep her thoughts to herself.
Laura, as always, attempted to provoke her with subtle jabs, but Whitney was no longer the vulnerable girl she once was.
Laura’s smile widened as she caught sight of Carter striding purposefully toward them from across the party hall, her expression shifting to one of smug satisfaction.
“Whit, who would have thought that after five years, Carter still dotes on his sister just as much?” Laura remarked, her tone dripping with condescension.
Whitney felt another crack in her heart at the remark. “Yeah, sure. But Laura, do you honestly think Carter knows that Emily’s best friend has feelings for him too?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.