Lena paused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, her brow furrowing slightly. “That’s true,” she conceded. “After all, you are engaged to Carter.”
A moment of silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. “By the way,” Lena continued, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity, “are you absolutely sure about calling off the engagement? The wedding is just four days away.”
Whitney let out a light chuckle, though it lacked genuine amusement. “Of course I’m sure. Carter doesn’t hold a place for me in his heart. Marrying him would only lead to a lifetime of regret.”
Lena snorted, her expression shifting to one of indignation. “It’s all because of Emily, isn’t it? She’s perfectly happy living abroad, so why on earth would she come back now?”
With a comforting gesture, Lena wrapped her arms around Whitney in a warm embrace. “Alright, Whit, regardless of what’s happening with Carter, always remember that we’re best friends. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’m always on your side.”
Whitney’s lips curled into a soft smile, grateful for Lena’s unwavering support. “By the way, has your uncle or anyone mentioned anything to James about us calling off the engagement?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Lena shook her head vigorously. “Nope. Just a few days ago, a relative even mentioned they’d be returning to attend Carter’s wedding.”
Whitney frowned, her mind racing. ‘With only four days left, are they really going to prolong this until the actual wedding day?’ she pondered, anxiety creeping into her thoughts.
“I see,” she finally replied, her voice trailing off as she lost herself in contemplation.
*****
Carter spent a restless night, tossing and turning, sleep eluding him like a fleeting shadow. When dawn broke, he arrived at the office, dark circles framing his eyes, a clear testament to his sleepless night.
He recalled instructing the manager in the administration department to keep an eye on Whitney, so he made his way there, hoping to find some clarity.
“How did Ms. Moore fare after you looked after her yesterday?” Carter inquired, his voice steady yet laced with concern.
The manager blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback. “Oh, Ms. Moore? She insisted she didn’t need my assistance, so I left early.”
After the elevator incident, they had meticulously checked all elevators on every floor to ensure safety before resuming regular operations. The manager had been preoccupied with engineering matters, leaving little room for thoughts about a cooperating lawyer.
Carter tapped his fingers rhythmically on the desk, lost in thought. “She seems okay, right?”
The manager tried to recall the details. “She was a bit shaken up. You know how girls can get in situations like that.”
Carter maintained a stern expression, choosing silence as he turned back toward his office, his mind swirling with worries. Just as he hesitated, contemplating whether to call Whitney, his phone rang. It was Emily.
“Carter, can you please talk to Dad for me?” Emily’s voice was fraught with urgency. “I don’t want to go on that blind date. That guy’s notorious for being a player. I really don’t want to meet him.”
“Also, maybe talk to Whitney, too? Once you two are married, I’ll try not to intrude as much. If she prefers I stay away, I can just stop reaching out,” Emily’s voice trembled slightly, revealing her vulnerability. “But please, just speak to Dad for me. I really don’t want this arranged marriage.”
Carter’s expression hardened, a chill running through him. “Did Dad force you into this?” he asked, the tension palpable.
“Yes,” Emily replied, her voice growing more agitated. “Mom called this morning, gave me a number and an address, and said the date is set for tonight.”
“But I have a recording session tonight,” she added, frustration evident in her tone.
Carter snorted inwardly, irritation bubbling to the surface. “You don’t have to go. I’ll handle this at home. Milly, I won’t let you be pushed into an arranged marriage.”
All the concern he had felt for Whitney dissipated like mist in the morning sun. ‘How long is she going to keep making a scene?’ he thought, his patience wearing thin.
*****
Whitney had enjoyed a restful night, waking up feeling significantly better. She had to head to the law firm that morning, so she left a note for Lena before setting out.
As she approached her car, a sudden realization hit her-her vehicle was still parked at the Starwave Entertainment building. With a sigh, she quickly messaged Lena again, asking her to drive it back when she had a moment.
The thought of returning to Starwave Entertainment filled her with unease; it was a place she never wanted to revisit.
Yet, as fate would have it, the last person she wanted to encounter appeared downstairs at her apartment.
“What are you doing here again?” Whitney asked coldly, her voice sharp as ice.
Carter sneered, an edge of accusation in his tone. “You’ve been scheming behind my back, haven’t you? That’s why I’m here.”
Whitney rolled her eyes, irritation bubbling to the surface. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Move aside; I’m going to be late for work.”
Carter stood firm, blocking her path like an immovable wall. “You’re the one who told my dad, aren’t you? Whitney, I seriously underestimated you. You claim you want to call off the engagement, but behind my dad’s back, you’re stirring up trouble. You’ve mastered the art of playing both sides.”
“If you genuinely want to marry me, why act indifferent? Is this your version of playing hard to get?”
Carter’s expression darkened, frustration etched across his features. “I’m sick and tired of you right now.”
In a moment of defiance, Whitney raised her hand and delivered a sharp slap across his face, her gaze piercing through him. “Carter, I’m equally tired of you. It’s your parents who are dragging their feet, not telling James. You’re bold enough to confront me, yet you lack the courage to tell James you want to call off the engagement?”
“Are you scared? I’m not. Eight o’clock, Harris Manor. Be there,” she commanded, brushing past him with purpose.
She was in a hurry, urgency propelling her forward.
Carter stood frozen, dumbfounded by the unexpected slap. ‘What just happened?’ he thought, still reeling from the shock. ‘Whitney just slapped me.’
His jaw clenched, muscles tensing as he called after her. “Whitney, don’t walk away!”
But when he turned to find her, she was already gone, driving off into the distance.
‘Eight o’clock?’ he mused, a mix of intrigue and determination swirling within him. ‘Let’s see if she truly has the guts to show up at Harris Manor and tell Grandpa she wants out.’
As George passed by Klein’s office, he casually inquired, “Klein, are you coming home for dinner tonight?”
His tone was nonchalant, as if the person who had sent him the surveillance footage from his son’s company last night wasn’t his brother.
Klein shook his head, a hint of regret in his eyes. “George, I have a business trip tonight. I’ll be back next week.”
“Alright, don’t overexert yourself. Take care of your health,” George added, heading out. “Oh, and I’ve set up a blind date for Emily. Don’t worry; what you’re concerned about won’t happen.”
Klein smiled softly, a mixture of relief and worry flooding his thoughts. “Yeah, I’m just concerned about the rumors that might circulate about the Harris family.”
Whitney awoke that morning with a cloud of irritation hanging over her. The moment she opened her eyes, she felt the weight of the day pressing down on her. Frank, ever observant, picked up on her mood almost instantly. He leaned against the doorframe, a curious expression on his face. “Whitney, who pissed you off?” he inquired, genuine concern lacing his tone.
She sighed, running a hand through her tousled hair. “Nothing, really. On my way here, I almost got bitten by a dog,” she confessed, a hint of annoyance still evident in her voice.
Frank’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Did you get a rabies shot then?” he asked, half-joking but clearly alarmed.
Whitney shook her head vigorously, a smirk creeping onto her lips. “Nope, it didn’t actually bite me. I slapped that dog hard. No losses on my side.” Her pride swelled at the thought of her quick reflexes.
Frank blinked, momentarily taken aback. The absurdity of the situation struck him, and he couldn’t help but think, ‘Is she actually talking about a dog?’
As they shifted their focus to the Harris Group merger, Ivan, the lead on the project, entered the room, bringing a sense of urgency with him. Whitney and Frank were his right-hand assistants, ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead.
For the smaller cases that required less attention, Ivan had delegated those to Valerie, freeing him to focus on the merger.
“Frank, Whitney,” Ivan announced, a hint of excitement in his voice, “I’ve just added you both to the group chat. Everyone involved in the merger is in there, so if you need anything, just drop a message in the group.”
He continued, “And by the way, make sure your display name in the chat follows this format-law firm, your name, and phone number. Got it? We’ll probably be burning the midnight oil for the foreseeable future, so I really appreciate everyone’s effort.”
Whitney glanced around the room as he spoke. There were more than twenty people in the group. She recognized about half from the last meeting when they had signed the contract. The others were likely supervisors who had no real involvement in the day-to-day workings of the project.
Calvin was the group owner, and Frank, always curious, leaned closer to his screen. “Hey, who’s K.H? Calvin just added them,” he asked, a hint of intrigue in his voice.
Ivan’s brow furrowed slightly. “That name sounds familiar,” he mused, clearly trying to recall where he had heard it before.
Frank clicked on the contact card, his brows knitting together in confusion. “No notes. No idea who it is. Probably some junior staff,” he guessed, but neither of them noticed the woman nearby stiffening at the mention of that name.
Whitney’s heart began to race in her chest. ‘Please don’t let it be him. It’s just a merger project. Does Mr. Harris really need to join this group personally?’ she thought, anxiety creeping in.
Suddenly, Ivan slapped his thigh, a sound that echoed in the quiet room. “I remember now!” he exclaimed, his loud voice causing Whitney’s shoulders to twitch involuntarily.
“Whitney, K.H has the same nickname as your ex,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Whitney forced a tight smile, her defenses rising instinctively. “Boss, when have I ever said that guy was my boyfriend? Besides, they’re not even the same person,” she retorted, her voice laced with irritation.
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.