James let out a derisive snort. “Carter, aren’t you going to thank Klein? If it weren’t for him, you’d be clueless about the whole situation.”
Carter felt a surge of frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He pressed his lips together, forcing out a begrudging, “Thanks, Uncle Klein.”
Klein took a leisurely sip of his coffee, his demeanor cool and detached. “No need. If your gratitude isn’t genuine, it holds no value. I suppose things have really changed in the five years I’ve been away.”
With that, Klein stretched his legs and made his way upstairs, leaving a charged silence in his wake.
James snorted, following him up, his annoyance palpable.
Once they had vacated the dining room, George turned his attention back to Carter. “Carter, you need to take a long, hard look at yourself. You think you can stand up to Uncle Klein now?”
With that, he too headed upstairs, leaving Carter feeling isolated and overwhelmed.
Sabrina, worried that her son might dismiss the situation, picked up the phone and called Whitney herself.
Carter looked down at Emily, concern etched across his face. “Emily, I’m really sorry you had to deal with all of that.”
Emily shook her head softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for getting you scolded again today, Carter.”
Being yelled at didn’t bother Carter in the least. What truly gnawed at him was the way his family treated Emily.
And now, his frustration with Whitney had reached a boiling point.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right there for you tomorrow. She won’t dare mess with you while I’m around,” Carter reassured her, affectionately running his fingers through her hair. “Didn’t you always dream of joining the entertainment world? I’ve gathered a top-notch team to create a tailor-made album just for you. Think of it as my way of making up for these last couple of days.”
In an instant, Emily’s gloom lifted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Really, Carter?”
“Of course,” he replied, his smile warm and genuine. “Everyone is going to see how incredible you are, and they’ll all fall in love with you.”
Sabrina called Whitney to invite her over for dinner at Harris Manor the following evening, but Whitney had already made plans to dine with some colleagues from Harris Group, prompting her to decline.
However, Sabrina was unusually persistent, simply rescheduling the dinner for the day after tomorrow. Emily felt cornered and had no choice but to acquiesce.
In James’s study, George remarked, “Klein, don’t let that brat get under your skin. I’ll make sure he gets straightened out.”
Klein nodded slightly, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t waste my energy getting angry with him. But Carter really doesn’t know when to quit. We have to maintain appearances and adhere to the rules. I don’t want people gossiping about the Harris family. What do you think?”
Though George was twelve years older than Klein, in their interactions, he often seemed more like the younger brother, always looking up to Klein’s wisdom.
“Absolutely, Klein, you’re right. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on Carter,” George replied, his tone earnest.
Just then, Sabrina walked in with coffee for them. “Hey, I just got off the phone with Whitney. She has a company event tomorrow night, so we agreed she’ll come over for dinner the day after tomorrow.”
“Alright, that works,” James said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
Klein maintained his stoic demeanor but raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
He stood up, his tone casual yet purposeful. “I have another appointment, so I’ll be leaving now. I’ll be back for dinner the day after tomorrow.”
James had wanted to corner Klein about his matchmaking prospects for tomorrow, but now Klein was slipping away again.
“Well, he’s dodging me again,” James muttered to himself, a frown creasing his brow.
He waved Klein off dismissively. “Go on, then. Just take it easy on the drinks at your dinner. It’s bad for your stomach.”
Klein inclined his head slightly. “Sure thing, Dad.”
***
Whitney immersed herself in research, determined to uncover every possible detail about Harris Group. She knew that securing the agency for this merger was no simple feat for PrimeBridge Law Firm.
The individual Ivan had arranged for tomorrow’s meeting was Calvin Malone, the one spearheading the entire project.
Whitney had already done her homework on Calvin. He was the Vice President of Harris Group’s overseas division, having just returned with Klein. Essentially, he was Klein’s right-hand man.
Calvin had a reputation for being all business, but Whitney felt a twinge of uncertainty since she had never interacted with him before.
Yet, deep down, Whitney reassured herself. *As long as Ivan is with me, I have nothing to fear.*
She had prepared for the inevitable heavy drinking session tomorrow, stocking up on hangover pills and antacids, knowing full well that she wouldn’t escape without indulging.
Once Carter returned to his room and the house settled into a quiet stillness, his thoughts drifted back to Whitney’s burn.
He sat in contemplation for a long moment, torn between pride and concern. Ultimately, he decided to reach out, letting the drama fade into the background for now.
Carter: [Hey, how’s your neck? Is the burn still hurting?]
But after an hour, he noticed the message remained unread, a pang of unease settling in his stomach.
Carter frowned, sending a message to his group chat filled with his wealthy friends.
Carter: [Is WhatsApp down for you guys too? Can you see my messages?]
The lively banter that had filled the group chat moments ago fell into an eerie silence.
*Could it really be down?* Carter wondered, a hint of anxiety creeping in.
Finally, one of the guys replied, [Carter, looks like you just got blocked.]
Frustration boiled within Carter. *Blocked? What the hell? Why would Whitney block me?*
Whitney had chosen a striking blue suit for the evening, a smart choice that exuded maturity and professionalism while still showcasing her unique flair. The fabric hugged her figure in all the right places, making her feel both confident and empowered.
As she stood before the mirror, she couldn’t help but pump her fist in a small act of self-encouragement, channeling her inner warrior. “For Grandma’s sake, I’ve got to give it my all and help Mr. Walton secure this contract,” she reminded herself, determination burning in her chest.
The dinner was to be held at the prestigious Royal Crest Club, a venue known for its elegance and exclusivity. Ivan Walton had brought along two of their lawyers-Whitney and Frank-understanding the importance of having a strong team by his side.
Knowing Whitney’s sensitive stomach, Ivan had ensured that Frank, who had a reputation for holding his liquor, accompanied them. On the opposing side, the Harris Group was represented by Calvin and two others from the investment department, along with a deputy director from finance. Each of them was a pivotal player in the company, and Whitney felt the weight of the evening’s stakes.
“Mr. Walton, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Calvin said, extending his hand for a firm shake with Ivan. His gaze shifted to Whitney and Frank, sizing them up as if evaluating their worth.
With a confidence that belied her nerves, Ivan introduced his team, “These are the two best lawyers on my team, Whitney and Frank.”
Whitney felt a flutter of anxiety but maintained her composure. “Hello, Mr. Malone. I’m Whitney Moore,” she replied, injecting warmth into her tone.
Calvin nodded, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “You really are young and promising. Ms. Moore, you look like you’re barely in your early twenties, right?”
With a hint of pride, Whitney responded, “Actually, Mr. Malone, I’m already 26.”
Ivan’s face lit up with pride as he spoke of Whitney’s accomplishments. “Whitney got into the best law school with the top score and went straight into grad school. Even though she’s still a junior lawyer, she’ll be up for senior status next year.”
Achieving senior lawyer status by 26 was no small feat; it was impressive, even badass. Calvin’s interest was piqued, and he gave her another look, this time more appreciative.
As Ivan and Calvin navigated the conversation, Hubbard Hampton from the Harris Group’s investment department called the waiter over with a friendly demeanor. “Everyone’s okay with drinking, right?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. His gaze fell on Whitney, and he grinned. “Ms. Moore, are you alright with having a drink?”
Ivan was about to interject, to explain that Whitney had her limits when it came to alcohol, but she beat him to it. “I’m not much of a drinker, but I’m really happy to meet you all tonight. Hope you won’t mind if I can’t keep up,” she said, her voice steady and cheerful.
“Whitney’s really going all out,” Ivan thought to himself, admiration swelling within him.
Hubbard chuckled, “Ms. Moore, you’re really straightforward. It doesn’t matter how much you drink, as long as we’re having fun.”
Whitney mentally grimaced, thinking, ‘Guess I’ll be drinking a lot tonight.’ Frank, seated beside her, discreetly shot her a thumbs-up under the table, a sign of encouragement.
She couldn’t help but smile bitterly inwardly, thinking, ‘No choice. I just want to get ahead. Only with enough money in my pocket can I finally push back against my family.’
Once the food was laid out on the table, Whitney kept her expression bright as she accepted the full glass of liquor from Hubbard. Ivan shot her a sideways glance, his expression a mix of concern and amusement, as if silently warning her about the choice she had just made.
Catching his look, Whitney understood the unspoken message: “You brought this on yourself.”
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.