“What?” Bowen finally asked, feigning annoyance.

“Just admiring how good-looking you are,” Aubree blurted out without hesitation.

Bowen, who was no stranger to compliments, felt his face redden at her words. He coughed awkwardly, trying to play it cool. “Cheeky as always.” Yet, the smile tugging at his lips was impossible to suppress.

Aubree couldn’t take her eyes off him–Bowen, with a blush, was truly a feast for the eyes. ‘How could a man interpret “good-looking” so perfectly? It made me a little jealous,’ she mused.

“Seriously, though,” Aubree said, the levity fading, “thank you. Again.” No matter Bowen’s motives, she owed him a great deal. She silently decided that if he ever asked for something in return, she would do her best to fulfill it as long as it was reasonable.

A silent vow solidified within her: those who were kind to her would be repaid, but those who tried to take advantage of her would face tenfold or even hundredfold retaliation.

Bowen waved it off. “What’s your plan? The Wilsons won’t let this go easily, I’m afraid.”

“Can you look into something?” Aubree’s eyes glinted. Tonight’s trouble essentially started with Carmen. It was time for her to push back.

Aubree said, “Carmen stole my spot in the Rithol Art School training program. She’s lame, about to get kicked out. Alice came to me before, wanting me to be her ghost artist, but I refused. The Wilsons must have found someone else for her.” She wanted evidence of this.

When Emery had given away her spot as a favor, she hadn’t objected–partly because she didn’t plan to pursue art, and partly for this very moment. If Carmen had stayed out of trouble, she wouldn’t have interfered, as a way to repay the Wilsons for raising her for three years. But now that Carmen had provoked her repeatedly, this matter was the perfect leverage.

“Okay, but Bree-” Bowen arched a brow, “I’m a businessman. We thrive on profit.” Though the favor was effortless for him, he needed her to understand: no one gets something for nothing in this world.

Aubree didn’t blink. “Name your price!”

“Buy me a meal,” he answered.

“Deal!” she agreed immediately. Honestly, she didn’t even know what Bowen could get from her. She could certainly afford a meal, especially since there was no specified budget. After all, Bowen had only said “buy me a meal” without specifying what to eat. A sly smile played on her lips.

“Why wait? Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up from school.” Bowen’s eyes sparkled, seeing right through her plan.

Nearby, Chris and Samson felt goosebumps prickling their skin. They mused, ‘Mr. Turner really should look in a mirror right now–he was positively glowing with infatuation! Is this still our stern Mr. Turner?’ Today’s incident reminded Bowen that if he hadn’t returned in time, Aubree might’ve been forcibly taken by the Wilsons.

“Should I assign someone to protect you?” he asked nonchalantly.

Aubree suspected Bowen had already stationed people around her, but she hadn’t expected him to bring it up directly. After a moment’s hesitation, she didn’t refuse–she couldn’t be sure what the Wilson’s might do next, especially after tonight’s unexpected incident.

“His name is Zachary Stone. He’ll start as your driver tomorrow,” Bowen said.

Once the details were settled, the living room fell silent. Aubree glanced around awkwardly before meeting Bowen’s gaze, her eyes silently asking, ‘Aren’t you leaving?’

Bowen laughed at her unspoken question. “Ungrateful,” he scolded affectionately, ruffling her hair before leading his guys out.

Settling into the car, Bowen covered his face and chuckled softly. ‘She truly treats it like her own home now!’

Up front, Chris and Samson exchanged uneasy glances–Bowen’s low laughter sent a chill down their spines.

As the engine purred to life, Bowen’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold, steely glare. “That Carmen… or whatever her name is,” he snapped, “dig up everything on her. Every last detail.”

On Tuesday, Aubree went to school as usual. Before she could even settle into her seat, Matilda leaned over. “Magnus from Honor Class dropped out.”

The news of Magnus, an ivy-bound prodigy, suddenly withdrawing had sparked chaos. School leaders had taken turns trying to dissuade him.

Aubree froze. Her first thought flew to Bowen. ‘Did he push him out?’

Before she could ask, Matilda added, “Rumor says the Wilsons did it, because of you.”

“Me? What does this have to do with me?” Aubree frowned, baffled. ‘First they storm Bowen’s place, now this? Are they collectively insane?’

Matilda shrugged. “Of course it is! He deliberately framed you for cheating, remember?”

Now Aubree was thoroughly confused. Magnus was involved, but only as an instigator, leaving no concrete evidence. The school had already closed the case. Dropping out seemed pointless.

‘Were the Wilsons plotting something else?!’ she mused.

After a moment’s thought, Aubree gave up. She couldn’t see the connection and didn’t care. This incident was just a blip. The day continued uneventfully until dismissal.

Bowen wasted no time–Zachary was already waiting as her driver by this morning. With her excellent scrim performance, she was excused from daily team practices for school. Now, Bowen made it a point to pick her up after school, eager to collect the meal she owed him.

Slinging her backpack, Aubree stepped out of the school gates–and froze.

Bryan stood waiting, a confident smile on his face. Aubree’s brows furrowed instantly. She tightened her grip on her backpack strap and quickened her pace toward the corner where Zachary waited. “Aubree!” Bryan’s smile faltered as she turned and practically fled. He shoved through the crowd, shouting, “Stop! Wait a minute!”

Aubree spotted Zachary–and beyond him, she was certain Bowen would be waiting. Her walk turned into a jog. Just as Bryan’s hand nearly clamped onto her shoulder, another arm shot out, grabbing Bryan’s wrist with an iron grip.

“Mr. Wilson, please behave yourself,” Bowen said, his voice deceptively pleasant, a smirk touching his lips that didn’t reach his icy eyes.

Zachary immediately stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Aubree.

Safely behind them, Aubree finally looked squarely at Bryan. “I’m begging you,” her voice flat, devoid of plea. “Just leave me alone.”

Bryan was still reeling from Bowen’s intervention, but Aubree’s words hit him like a slap. ‘This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.’

‘Surely she didn’t know about Magnus yet? That had to be it!’

Steadying himself, Bryan shook off Bowen’s grip and stared past him at Aubree. “Aubree, Magnus dropped out. He lied about you cheating, made us misunderstand you. Come home, and I’ll make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

After saying this, Bryan felt quite self-satisfied. ‘See?’ he thought. ‘Bowen offers protection? So can I. Talk is cheap. Bowen has been getting along with you for less than half a month, but I’m your blood-related family.’

Bryan could already picture her tearful gratitude, her relief at returning to family.

Aubree’s head tilted slightly. ‘Ah. Magnus was the sacrificial lamb. The peace offering,’ she thought.

She almost laughed at the irony. When she’d slaved away for the Wilsons, no one had treated her like a human–every mistake, every conflict, had been her fault by default. Now that she’d left, they were all scrambling to curry favor. A cold truth settled within her. ‘The Wilsons really are a bunch of hypocrites.’

Meeting Bryan’s expectant gaze, she merely said indifferently, “So if I agree to go back, you’ll avenge every mistake done to me?”

Bryan missed the chilling undertone, hearing only the potential agreement. “Yes! Exactly!” he affirmed eagerly, stepping forward slightly. “Just come home.”

Then, to Bryan’s shock, Aubree lifted the hem of her shirt, revealing her waist.