Chapter 73

Across the city, at the Whitmore residence, Charlotte was pounding on her mother's bedroom door.

"Mom, please! I'm just going out for a few hours. I'll be back this afternoon!"

The knocking echoed down the hall.

After a while, the butler appeared.

"Miss Whitmore? Your mother already went out."

Charlotte let her hand fall with a frustrated groan.

Her father had stationed security outside, and they had strict orders not to let her leave. Even if she somehow climbed out a window and slipped past them, then what?

She didn't have a car anymore.

Was she supposed to call an Uber to a party?

She would rather stay home.

"Will you knock it off?"

Sebastian Whitmore emerged from his room looking murderous. He had worked through the night and had barely been asleep before Charlotte started hammering on doors.

"Some of us are trying to sleep."

Charlotte glared at him.

Sebastian rubbed a hand over his face.

"Richard Sterling personally spoke to Dad about what happened. If you start running around town again and someone from the Sterling family sees you, what do you think that looks like?"

"That woman is perfectly fine!" Charlotte snapped. "She didn't die. Nobody died at the house, so why should I—"

"Because Dad isn't waiting for someone to die before he takes it seriously."

Sebastian's patience was visibly running out.

"If Sterling decides he's had enough and his banks start tightening credit on Whitmore Group, do you have any idea how much trouble that creates?"

Charlotte's lips trembled.

Sebastian gave her a cold look.

"Listen carefully. Make one more scene out here and I'll start calling your friends myself. Every single one."

Charlotte stared at him.

"I'll tell them you've been grounded. I'll tell them Dad took your apartment, your cars, and your trust fund."

Her face went white.

"You—you wouldn't."

"Try me."

Charlotte knew her second brother well enough not to test him. She clenched her teeth and stormed back into her room.

Not long after, her phone rang.

Charlotte looked at the name on the screen for several seconds before finally answering.

"Ryan?"

The caller was her boyfriend of six months, Ryan Foster.

The Foster family was roughly on the same social level as the Whitmores—wealthy, well connected, and firmly established in the city's upper circles. Ryan had recently returned after graduating from university abroad.

He also had an older sister nearly ten years his senior.

Unlike Ryan, she was sharp, decisive, and highly capable. Control of the Foster family business—and, for all practical purposes, its future—had settled into her hands years ago.

Ryan had never been particularly ambitious. Once it became obvious that competing with his sister was pointless, he became even less interested in trying.

Most of his time went to parties, cars, and whatever else kept him entertained.

"Ryan… Dad won't let me leave the house," Charlotte said, her voice breaking. "He even hit me."

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Ryan knew Victoria, so there was little point hiding the reason from him. Charlotte told him what had happened, cursing her parents, her brothers, and everyone else she could think of along the way.

"…And Richard Sterling did all of this over some gold-digging bitch! I'm his daughter's friend!"

"Richard Sterling personally spoke to your father?"

Ryan's voice sharpened.

"What did Victoria say?"

Charlotte hesitated.

She had no idea where she stood with Victoria anymore, but there was no way she was admitting that Victoria had refused to help her.

"Victoria's obviously on my side," she said quickly. "She said she'd talk to her father."

"…I see."

There was a short silence on the other end.

Charlotte was attractive, came from a wealthy family, and would eventually own shares in Whitmore Group. She was academically capable too, but when it came to people, she was nowhere near as clever as she thought she was.

Ryan had always known that.

With his own family business firmly under his sister's control, he had long since realized that marrying well might be more useful than trying to fight her for power. That was part of why he had chosen Charlotte.

But it wasn't the only reason.

He did have feelings for her.

And more importantly, he had an ego. His girlfriend had been humiliated, and in his mind, that meant someone had humiliated him too.

"Charlotte, leave it to me."

His voice lowered.

"I'll handle it."

Ryan might have been spoiled and lazy, but he wasn't completely stupid. Richard Sterling was obviously untouchable, and going after Victoria would be just as idiotic.

But there was always someone lower down the chain. Someone easier—like the gold digger Charlotte claimed was being kept by an older man. A woman with no background or family power, protected only by whoever was currently paying for her lifestyle, sounded like an easy target to someone raised in Ryan's world.

"Stop crying," he said. "Stay home for now. Don't make things worse with your family."

His voice turned colder.

"And don't worry about that woman. We won't touch the man behind her."

Ryan gave a humorless laugh.

"But that gold digger isn't untouchable. Whoever's keeping her can't watch her every second of every day."

He paused.

"Sooner or later, she'll learn what happens when she messes with people she shouldn't."

Early Sunday morning, sunlight shimmered across the lake at Richard's estate.

The pearl-white Ferrari rolled out of the garage and into the courtyard.

Elena stood beside it in a fitted cream athletic set, her long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. The red Ferrari key fob was in her hand, and the excitement on her face was impossible to miss.

"You're enjoying this."

Richard's voice came from behind her.

Elena turned.

He was walking out of the house in a sharply tailored navy suit, looking very different from the casually dressed man she had spent the weekend with.

"Obviously."

She held up the key.

"The weather's perfect, so I'm taking it out for a drive. Want to come?"

Richard looked at her bright expression and smiled slightly.

He reached out and brushed a finger over the tip of her nose.

"I have a board meeting with New York this morning, then a few meetings with government officials downtown."

"Oh well."

Elena hadn't expected much. She had known from the beginning that Richard was busy.

Real billionaires apparently did not have the twenty-four-hour romantic schedules of men in romance novels.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Elena pulled out her phone and showed him.

"This club. I saw pictures online. There's a private scenic road around the golf course that runs through the hills and along the water. Apparently it's quiet, the pavement's good, and there's barely any traffic."

Richard glanced at the name on the screen.

"The Sterling Consortium's hospitality division was one of the developers. The parent company is a joint venture with several institutional investors. We own forty percent."

Elena stared at him.

Richard gave a quiet laugh and looked toward the butler.

"Have our driver come out. And arrange a security car to follow them."

"Yes, sir."

A few minutes later, a middle-aged man with a weathered complexion and a calm, observant expression approached them.

"Mr. Sterling. Ms. Hayes."

Richard gestured toward him.

"He's a former professional rally driver and the best performance driver on the estate."

Then he looked at Elena.

"The SF90 has nearly a thousand horsepower. You've never driven anything this powerful before, and I'm not comfortable with you taking it onto a mountain road alone. He'll ride with you, and security will follow in another car."

Elena nodded.

"I know. I'm not going to drive like a maniac."

She thought for a second.

"I don't think I've even had a ticket since I got my license."

"That isn't as reassuring as you think."

Elena laughed.

Then she reached out and caught Richard by the tie.

His eyebrow lifted, but he obediently leaned down.

Elena kissed him quickly on the cheek.

"Bye. I'm going to have fun."

And before Richard could answer, she was already turning toward her new Ferrari.