Chapter 3 Approach

The Briarwood Apartments were impeccably decorated, yet felt as cold and impersonal as a hotel suite, lacking any sense of warmth or hominess.

In the past, Ophelia would have obediently stayed in the place Benjamin had crafted for her.

But now...she booked the presidential suite at the most luxurious hotel in her favorite part of town.

To placate her, Benjamin dutifully deposited a generous monthly allowance, which she hadn't touched.

Benjamin hadn't called or messaged her once. It was as if she had been completely erased from his world.

Did it hurt? Of course it did.

Four years of relationship, seven years of unrequited love—it was not something she could just let go of.

But more than pain, she felt a numbing coldness from being repeatedly trampled upon.

Benjamin's mother, Mia Wilson, did call once.

Her tone was as gentle as ever, merely asking if Ophelia had settled in and reminding her of the importance of the upcoming birthday party, urging her to arrive early with Benjamin.

Ophelia held the phone, her fingertips icy.

Did Mia know she had been kicked out?

Perhaps, to the White family, this was simply a trivial marital spat.

She didn't mention Benjamin, nor did she bring up Emily. She agreed politely.

On the day of the birthday party.

Ophelia chose a black velvet gown, simple and conservative in style, yet expertly tailored to accentuate her slender waist and graceful curves, making her skin appear even more radiant.

She wore no extravagant jewelry from the White family, opting instead for a pair of platinum chain earrings she designed years ago, resembling two silent stars hanging from her earlobes.

Her long hair was pinned up, exposing her delicate neck. Her makeup was flawless, but it couldn't hide the sadness and resolute determination in her eyes.

She knew what she might face today. But she had to go.

It was not just for the White family's dignity, but also for herself—she couldn't hide like a defeated loser and let others trample on her pride.

Benjamin's car arrived punctually downstairs.

He came to pick her up himself, perhaps at Mia's insistence.

Ophelia opened the car door and got in. The atmosphere inside the car instantly dropped to freezing.

Benjamin was dressed in a Brioni bespoke suit, his hair meticulously styled, his handsome profile taut.

He didn't even glance at her, as if she were something repulsive.

They drove in silence.

The party was held in the White Mansion's ballroom. The room was filled with the scent of perfume and the glitter of jewels, the air thick with insincere pleasantries and flattery.

Ophelia held a glass of champagne, barely touched, maintaining a forced smile as she followed Benjamin, enduring the scrutiny of various gazes.

Those looks carried curiosity, pity, schadenfreude, and disdain.

She could sense Benjamin's impatience and distraction; his gaze frequently darted towards the entrance.

Sure enough, soon there was a deliberate commotion at the entrance.

Emily had arrived.

She wore a white lace Valentino gown, fresh and delicate, like a flower swaying in the wind.

She kept her head slightly lowered, her cheeks flushed with a shy blush, one hand nervously clutching her skirt, her eyes timidly scanning the room, as if searching for something.

When her gaze found Benjamin, it immediately filled with dependency and grievance.

Benjamin instantly abandoned Ophelia, striding towards Emily.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, he wrapped his arm around Emily's waist, whispering in her ear, as if she were the one meant to stand by his side today.

Emily leaned into him, her face glowing with blush, her eyes sparkling with a mix of surprise and pride.

Ophelia stood frozen, feeling her blood turn to ice.

Her fingertips were cold, the condensation on the champagne glass chilling her skin, but it couldn't compare to the bone-deep coldness spreading from her heart.

At Mia's birthday party, in front of all the friends, family, and business partners, so brazenly!

Countless eyes flickered between her and the pair, whispers rising like a tide, threatening to drown her.

"Look! Mr. White brought that woman..."

"Tsk, his wife is right there."

"Bold move, bringing her to Mrs. White's birthday party?"

"I heard Mr. White and Ophelia have been on bad terms lately."

"More than bad, looks like he's ready to replace her."

Those gazes and comments felt like needles, piercing Ophelia's exposed skin, bringing waves of shameful heat.

She felt stripped naked under the spotlight, judged by everyone.

Benjamin had shattered her last shred of dignity in such a manner!

Emily seemed to sense her gaze, timidly looking over, a fleeting hint of pride and provocation in her eyes.

Ophelia's jaw tightened, a sense of solitary defiance and anger nearly overwhelming her.

She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, tasting a hint of metallic blood, barely maintaining her composed expression.

She even began calculating how much gossip she'd face if she turned and left now, and whether it would be worth it.

Just as her fingers grew numb, barely able to hold the glass, a lazy, amused voice broke through the suffocating tension.

"Why are you alone here? Mom was just asking about you."

Ophelia turned abruptly.

William stood beside her, holding a glass of whiskey.

He wore a dark-patterned suit, no tie, his shirt collar casually undone, exuding a roguish charm.

His face bore his usual, inscrutable smile, his eyes seeming to see through everything.

His greeting, devoid of formal address, was naturally familiar, instantly cutting off many of the prying, curious gazes.

Many people's attention shifted to him.

Ophelia quickly suppressed any outward emotion, nodding slightly, her voice steady. "It's a bit stuffy inside. I came out for some air."

William stepped forward, standing beside her, his presence creating an invisible barrier of safety. He swirled his glass, the ice cubes clinking softly.

"Yeah, it is pretty stuffy," He said, his tone carrying a hint of meaning, his gaze drifting over the distant couple, "Especially when you see some nauseating scenes, the air gets worse."

Ophelia's heart stirred, but she showed nothing on her face.

"Not joking," William took a sip of his drink, his tone lazy, but his words sharp as knives, "Benjamin is getting more and more out of line. On Mom's birthday, he brings all sorts of unsavory people here, making a fool of himself."

His words, though seemingly casual, precisely shattered Benjamin's carefully maintained façade, subtly revealing his misconduct, favoritism towards his lover, and infidelity to everyone listening.

Ophelia immediately understood his intent.

He wasn't just passing by; he was a hunter following the scent. He was offering her a knife while also gathering ammunition to attack Benjamin.

She suppressed the cold sarcasm in her heart, responding calmly, "Thank you for your concern. It's just a trivial quarrel; it will pass. I just didn't expect some people to forget their pain and act even worse."

"A leopard can't change its spots," William scoffed, his blunt words contrasting with his refined appearance, amplifying his aura.

He turned to Ophelia, his gaze probing, "But you do surprise me, you're tougher than I thought."

Ophelia met his gaze, unwavering. "People have to grow up."

William's interest deepened. He was about to say more when Benjamin, his expression dark, dragged Emily over.

Clearly, Ophelia's brief respite and William's involvement had made him feel out of control.

"William, you really have time to chat here?" Benjamin's tone was hostile, his gaze coldly sweeping over Ophelia.

William's smile grew more relaxed. "You're busy entertaining guests, I have to help you out, care for family." He emphasized his words. Emily's face paled, shrinking behind Benjamin.

Benjamin's temple throbbed. "My family matters are none of your concern!"

"Really?" William raised an eyebrow, "Your matters are the White family's matters. If some unclear individuals affect the company's stock price or embarrass our parents, it's not just your family matter anymore." His words were slow but piercing.

Benjamin was momentarily speechless with anger.

Ophelia watched the unfolding sibling rivalry with indifference, feeling no emotion.

She placed her champagne glass on the nearby railing with a crisp sound.

"You all continue," She interrupted the tense atmosphere between them, "I'm a bit tired, I'll go greet mom, excuse me."

She finished, not even glancing at Benjamin and Emily, straightening her back, walking past them with poise.

Benjamin stared at her cold, resolute back, a sense of inexplicable frustration and loss of control gripping him.

William watched Ophelia's retreating figure, then glanced at the disgruntled Benjamin, a meaningful smile curving his lips.

As the party wound down, Ophelia found a moment to escape to the garden terrace, seeking refuge from the suffocating opulence.

She had just settled when footsteps sounded behind her.

She thought Benjamin had come to provoke again, turning impatiently, only to meet a pair of deep eyes.

William had followed her, holding her shawl—the one she had left on a chair earlier.

"It's chilly at night." He handed her the shawl, his gaze resting on her slightly pale face, his tone calm but carrying an undertone of something else.

Ophelia hesitated, taking the shawl. "Thank you."

They stood side by side, looking at the distant city lights. Silence stretched between them.

"Thank you for today," Ophelia said softly.

Regardless of his motives, he had indeed helped her.

William turned to look at her, the night rendering his features somewhat indistinct, but his eyes remained clear.

"No need to thank me." He paused, his voice deepening, carrying a seductive hint, "If you need, I can make him suffer more."

Ophelia's heart skipped a beat, looking up at him abruptly.

His gaze in the dim light was especially sharp, filled with unreadable emotions, but the intense, undisguised intent made her heart race.

The "him" he referred to was undoubtedly Benjamin.

Was he offering her an alliance? Suggesting they team up against Benjamin?

Why?

Just because he disliked him? Or was there something else?

The terrace light was dim, but his gaze felt piercing, as if it could see into her soul.

Ophelia's heart skipped a beat, a dangerous yet irresistibly alluring possibility unfolding before her.

She clutched the shawl tightly, her fingertips trembling slightly.