“Can we not talk about her? She’s bad luck!” Xavier snapped, clearly irritated. Anyone in Ahn City would immediately recognize him as a notorious womanizer, a man who never seemed to stop entertaining women. His presence was always accompanied by a crowd of female admirers. He was frequently seen in the company of actresses, models, and other beautiful women who were often the subject of tabloid gossip. Any well-known name in the entertainment industry could likely be traced back to his circle.
Yet, despite his reputation, Xavier had been betrothed to someone since childhood—a commitment enforced by his father’s unwavering authority. His fiancée came from a well-respected family, highly capable and educated, and just a few years younger than Xavier. She had always lived a life of high standards, receiving the finest education and making a name for herself as a doctor in a prominent hospital. The elders saw her career as a promising future, one of prestige and stability.
To Xavier, however, she was nothing more than a boring obligation. He didn’t have much personal interest in her, but he had to keep the engagement intact because of family expectations. The issue, however, lay not with him but with her. She had developed deep feelings for him, a love that had remained steadfast despite his indifferent and reckless behavior. She never once complained, allowing their engagement to drag on year after year, even as Xavier continued to play the part of the carefree bachelor.
As the years went by, the pressure of marriage loomed over Xavier. He was running out of time. His engagement would have to turn into a wedding in a few years, and every time he thought about it, a headache would follow. He rubbed his temple in frustration. “Forget it. I don’t want to deal with this today. Just don’t bring it up again. I came here to talk to you about something important.”
Weston, who had been listening quietly, responded flatly, “Spill.”
Without further words, Weston strode toward the elevator, his presence commanding. Xavier followed him, pressing the elevator button. The ride was a quiet one, with a few employees already inside the elevator. Weston didn’t bother with his exclusive elevator, preferring to mix with the rest of the company staff.
The employees, caught off guard by the unexpected company, huddled together in the corner of the elevator, giving Weston and Xavier more space. Xavier, ever the charmer, smiled at them and casually started a conversation. “Look at you guys. Are you usually afraid of him?”
One brave employee, perhaps a little too bold, replied, “No, no. Mr. Ford is very approachable.”
Xavier chuckled, turning back to Weston. “Approachable? Did I hear that right?”
Weston’s gaze flicked toward Xavier, cold and calculating. The employees, sensing the tension, immediately fell silent. They knew better than to provoke their boss, especially in such close quarters. Weston had a chilling presence; when he stood still, his mere existence radiated authority and intimidation.
The elevator doors opened with a soft ping, and Weston stepped out with his usual quiet confidence. Xavier quickly followed, eager to get to the point.
“I came here for business today. Why else would I have come all the way from Ahn City to Fern City?” Xavier said, trying to regain control of the conversation.
Weston got into the car and immediately closed the door, signaling that the discussion was over.
Xavier stood outside, frowning as he pulled on the passenger door handle, only to find it locked. He knocked on the window, hoping to catch Weston’s attention. When Weston finally lowered the window, he didn’t even look at his uncle. Instead, he kept his focus on the road ahead.
“What do you want?” Weston asked, his tone detached.
Xavier sighed, abandoning any attempt at pride. “Weston, I’m sorry for coming without notice. Can you give me a ride? Please?”
Weston didn’t respond, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. “It’s inconvenient,” he muttered, his eyes still fixed ahead.
“Where are you going?” Xavier pressed, his voice tinged with impatience.
Weston echoed the question, his gaze briefly flicking up to meet Xavier’s. His expression was as cold and unyielding as ever. He treated everyone the same, even his own uncle.
Xavier raised both hands in mock surrender. “I’ve never met anyone as stubborn as you. Fine, I’m going to the same place as you. We’re meeting the same person. Happy?”
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