Chapter 4

"Dad, are you talking about the heir to the Bennett family?" Henry asked.

Matthew nodded. "That's him."

Henry looked frustrated. "This is crazy! He's a big deal in Betrico—totally out of our league. How could we even get on his good side?"

Everyone knew the Bennett family was the richest in the country, with a complex network and history. Jonathan was Clifford's long-awaited son, born late in life and groomed to take over the family business. But this man was incredibly low-key. No one had ever seen him, and the public didn't even know what he looked like. It was baffling why Matthew suddenly brought him up.

"The Bennett family bought the land for Paradise Resort a while ago. I heard Clifford has put Jonathan in charge of this project. If we can win his favor, our chances of getting picked will definitely improve," Matthew added.

"Dad, that plan doesn't make sense. So many people are trying to get close to him. If we just go to Betrico, we probably won't even see him."

"Who says we have to go to Betrico? Jonathan is right here in Roncrity, and I've heard he's been here for three years."

Filip frowned. "A wealthy heir like him inspecting the Paradise Resort project is one thing, but why would he stay here for three years?"

"Jonathan's mother, Susanna, is from Roncrity. She moved back here three years ago for her health, and he came along. But not many people know that they've been living in Piedmont Manor all this time," Matthew explained.

Piedmont Manor was a luxurious villa halfway up Piedmont Mountain, and it was the only villa there. People said its owner was a reclusive millionaire, but who knew it belonged to the Bennett family?

"Dad, how do you know all this?" Pamela asked.

"Not many knew before, but now it's common knowledge because tomorrow is Susanna's seventieth birthday. It's a big event, and we actually got two invitations. Other prominent families in the city got invites, too. I guess Susanna has lived here long enough that she's ready to make some connections. But regardless, this is an opportunity, and that's why I asked Filip to come home urgently," Matthew explained.

He pulled out two invitation cards and handed them to Filip and Cynthia. "You both need to attend Susanna's birthday party tomorrow night. Get a nice gift, and make sure you introduce yourselves to Jonathan. If you can chat with him a bit, even better."

"Alright, alright, let's not talk about work during dinner," Pamela interrupted. "I've already cleaned up the bedroom, and you two should go sleep together. Since you're back, it's time to start thinking about having a baby."

Cynthia already had her own room in the Yates residence and had never moved into their shared bedroom even after marrying Filip.

"I have plans tonight. I need to go out," Filip replied coldly.

Pamela slammed her fork on the table. "Go out? To meet that woman? If you leave Cynthia home alone tonight, I'll make sure to deal with her myself."

"Mom, don't do that."

Chapter 4 (continued)

"Just wait and see."

Cynthia sat quietly, sipping chicken soup while watching the family drama unfold. Honestly, she hadn't completely moved on. After all, when her life had hit rock bottom, the two people she trusted most had deeply betrayed her. She had felt anger and sought revenge, but time had softened her. Now, she could observe from a distance, oddly entertained, as if watching a show. Even she didn't know when she'd distanced herself emotionally. But still, she wondered how far Filip would go for Lilian.

In the bedroom, after a long silence with Cynthia, Filip stepped onto the balcony and called Lilian. Half an hour later, Cynthia could still hear him comforting Lilian, interspersed with Lilian's sniffles. Filip remained patient and steady.

Cynthia thought back to her time with Filip. He had never been this patient with her. They were too familiar; when he first tried to kiss her, she'd burst out laughing at his flushed ears.

"Cyn! What's so funny?" a young Filip had huffed, annoyed.

"I just thought of that time in kindergarten when we tried to dig out a beehive. You got stung, and your lips blew up like a sausage! And your ears? You looked just like a little bat from the storybook!" Cynthia laughed.

Filip had simmered, and after that, never dared to kiss her again. They dated for two years, and she hadn't given him her first kiss.

If not for her secret lover, Cynthia figured she might have turned twenty-three without ever knowing what a kiss felt like. A flash of his face crossed her mind, along with the memory of his kisses—passionate and desirable, like a captivating merman.

Cynthia chuckled—just three hours after breaking up, and she was already missing him. She grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found his number, saved under "Pretty Boy." To her surprise, after three years together, she'd never asked for his real name. But she couldn't blame herself. Every time they met, it was late at night, and they'd dive right in. When emotions ran high, they called each other "baby" and "darling."

Suddenly, she felt like a jerk—she'd slept with him and didn't even know his name.

Her phone buzzed. It was "Pretty Boy." After hesitating, she answered.

"Miss me already?" Cynthia's voice was soft and flirtatious.

Silence. Then, a deep, controlled voice: "Where are you?"

"Just at home."

"Come to Greenfield Villa. I need to see you."

Cynthia twirled her hair. "Can't do that. I told you, my husband's back. I need to spend the evening with him."

"Cynthia, you can't sleep with him," his voice broke.

"Alright, let's not push it. If you're unhappy with our breakup deal, I can throw in a store for you. You won't even have to work at the Dark Horse Club anymore."

Chapter 4 (continued)

"Cynthia, it's not about the money. Do you even know who I am?" The man's anger grew.

"It doesn't matter who you are. We're done," Cynthia replied, her voice soothing, almost calming a child.

Filip entered from the balcony, having finished his call.

Cynthia flashed him a bright smile while speaking on the phone. "Alright, my husband's back. You should probably get some rest."

The man roared, "Cynthia Jones! Don't you dare hang—"

Cynthia ended the call, set her phone to "Do Not Disturb," and placed it face down.

Filip looked at her, his brow furrowed. "Who was that?"

"Just my boyfriend," Cynthia smiled brightly.