With great respect, he placed a white rose for Patricia, a symbol of his affection and remembrance.
“Whit, don’t be too sad. It’s just how things go. None of us can escape it, you know? Just try to accept it,” James offered gently, hoping to provide some comfort.
Whitney nodded, her expression serene yet hollow.
When Klein arrived and noticed Whitney sitting in silence, a knot formed in his stomach.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the crowd’s presence stifled his words.
Meanwhile, Tina, clad in her somber black dress, spotted Klein standing near Patricia’s portrait. A calculating glimmer sparked in her eyes.
‘Mom was right. Someone like Klein is a total catch. There’s literally no one else like him in all of Ravorport,’ Tina thought, her heart racing with ambition.
‘Now that James feels guilty toward our family, if I could actually land Klein, why would I ever have to worry about Whitney again?’ she mused, a sly smile playing on her lips.
Whitney observed as Tina trailed behind Klein, a frown creasing her brow, concerned about what Tina was plotting this time.
Fearing that Tina might create chaos, Whitney decided to follow her.
As soon as Whitney stepped into the corridor, she caught the sound of Tina’s overly dramatic voice. “Sorry, sorry, Klein. I tripped and spilled coffee on your suit. Here, let me wipe it off for you, Klein.”
As she spoke, Tina’s hand reached out, eager to brush against the firm lines of Klein’s suit. Her heart raced, anticipation coursing through her veins.
Klein’s voice cut through the air, icy and filled with disdain. “No. And for the record, we’re just strangers. Call me Mr. Harris.”
Tina stumbled over her words, completely thrown off balance.
She registered the contempt in his eyes, yet she was unwilling to concede. “Please don’t be mad, Klein. I swear that it was an accident,” she pleaded, adopting a sweet, innocent tone.
Desperate to get closer, she attempted to throw herself at him, but Klein sidestepped her effortlessly. With a loud thud, Tina found herself flat on the floor, mortified.
“Miss,” Klein said, his voice flat with impatience. “It’s Patricia’s funeral. Try to act with some decency.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Tina seething with embarrassment.
Klein had briefly considered checking on Whitney, perhaps offering her some words of comfort. But as he rounded the corner, he was met with Whitney’s icy, distant gaze.
He licked his dry lips, locking eyes with her. They appeared calm, almost devoid of emotion, yet Klein sensed an underlying fragility, as if she was barely holding herself together, ready to shatter at any moment.
Klein leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper. “Are you… okay?”
Whitney merely nodded, her response barely audible. “I’m fine.”
He stepped closer, gently patting her head, a gesture of comfort. “Don’t lie to me. You’re clearly not okay,” he said softly, concern etched across his features.
Whitney’s throat tightened at his words, a swell of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
“Mr. Harris…” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Klein paused, treating her like something precious, pulling her close and resting her soft hair against his shoulder.
His usually cold demeanor softened, revealing a hint of tenderness. “Whitney, you don’t have to act tough when you’re with me anymore.”
From a distance, Tina watched the scene unfold, her teeth biting into her lip so hard she nearly drew blood, her body tense with jealousy and rage.
“That bitch is actually enticing Klein. As if she could ever be worthy of him,” Tina seethed, her envy simmering just beneath the surface.
In the fleeting silence of the moment, Whitney lifted her head once more, the glimmer of tears that had once threatened to spill over now completely evaporated.
“Are you feeling any better?” Klein inquired gently, his voice a soft anchor in the chaos surrounding them.
Whitney managed a faint smile, a mere shadow of her usual warmth. “A little. I’m fine, Mr. Harris. Really, I’m okay now.”
Klein’s expression shifted, a serious undertone weaving through his words. “Whitney, you will not marry Carter.”
At that, Whitney’s heart jolted, a sudden flutter of disbelief and confusion spiraling within her.
Klein’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t need to call me Mr. Harris anymore. I’m not your elder in this moment. I’m just seven years older than you-addressing me by my name should be perfectly acceptable, don’t you think?”
Whitney found herself momentarily speechless, grappling with the unexpected intimacy of his request.
Her voice came out rough, as if it had to fight its way through the tumult of her emotions. “Why?”
Klein blinked, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. “Why what?”
“Why do you want me to call you by your name?” Whitney pressed, her curiosity piqued.
With a lazy drawl, Klein replied, “I suppose I like the way you say my name.”
Whitney raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more beneath his casual demeanor. “I’m serious. Think it over. Carter is my nephew. He owes you, and as his uncle, I can make amends on his behalf.”
Klein’s gaze lingered on her, taking in the subtle changes in her appearance-how she had lost so much weight in just a few days, the shadows under her eyes betraying her inner turmoil.
“Whatever you desire, just say the word. I’ll agree to anything,” he added, his tone steady and sincere.
“Anything?” Whitney echoed, her eyes narrowing with a touch of skepticism.
“Absolutely,” Klein affirmed, his voice unwavering. “Anything you wish for. Just say it, and I will make it happen.”
To an outsider, it would have been evident that something was amiss.
At that moment, Whitney was submerged in her grief, her thoughts muddled and unclear.
“Got it,” she managed to whisper, her lips barely moving. “Thank you, Klein.”
“Not a problem. Just keep in mind what I said today. I have something to take care of, so I’ll be heading out now,” Klein replied, his tone lightening as he prepared to leave.
As he walked away, there was a spring in his step, a bounce of hope that echoed in his mind.
“‘Klein,’” he repeated to himself, savoring the sound.
“Not a bad start,” he mused, feeling a flicker of anticipation.
Next time, he couldn’t wait for her to call him “Honey.”
–
Tina was a storm of emotions as she stormed off, her mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts. “Why on earth would Klein go out of his way to talk to that insufferable woman?” she seethed internally.
The gentleness in his eyes when he looked at Whitney was something she had never witnessed before, and it gnawed at her insides.
Just the thought of Whitney snuggling up to someone more powerful made Tina feel physically sick, as if the very air had turned toxic.
Carter and Emily were the last to arrive, having come separately from the rest of the Harris family.
After placing a delicate white rose at Patricia’s memorial, Carter began to scan the room, his eyes searching desperately for Whitney, but she was nowhere in sight.
Emily caught his searching gaze, her heart tightening with irritation, though she maintained a facade of calm.
Feigning indifference, she asked, “Carter, what are you looking for?”
Carter shook his head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing, really.”
“Hey, Emily, I’m just going to hit the bathroom. Wait here for me, alright?” he said, turning slightly away.
It wasn’t only Klein who understood how much Patricia meant to Whitney; Carter, who had shared five years with her, felt it just as deeply.
“Is she crying her eyes out right now?” Carter wondered, a pang of concern tightening his chest. The mere thought of that strong, independent woman revealing such vulnerability stirred something protective within him.
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.