Chapter 3 Harold's Birthday Banquet

Evelina barely remembered how she'd left the Quinns' house that day, her mind shrouded in a fog she had no interest in clearing. She wanted nothing more to do with their lives, yet Tessa managed to shove her new reality in Evelina's face at every turn—never passing up a chance to parade her engagement for the world to see.

Evelina found refuge in a cramped apartment near her office—forty square meters of solitude with bare white walls, a partitioned bathroom, and secondhand furniture that rattled when she brushed past. But it was hers alone, a fragile boundary the Quinn family couldn't cross.

On a rainy evening, Tessa's barrage of Instagram updates finally pushed Evelina past her limit. She intended to block Tessa, but her finger slipped and opened the latest post instead.

Tessa had outdone herself: a glossy photo of the Quinn family's sunlit living room, glittering with a rainbow of jewelry and a proud heap of property deeds fanned out across the coffee table.

Her caption screamed across the screen: "This is what my parents gave me: wedding gifts that arrived early, worth over ten million!"

Scrolling through Tessa's feed felt like wading through a fever dream of luxury—sleek sports cars lined up like trophies, designer handbags scattered across tufted beds, rows of couture dresses and diamonds sparkling in the light. Even the family group chat screenshots stung: Albin, usually all sharp edges, joking and affectionate; Joanna, who had never spared Evelina a kind word, oozing warmth and doting on Tessa.

To the world, they looked like the perfect family—close-knit, glamorous, and overflowing with love. Who wouldn't be jealous?

A bitter, lopsided smile tugged at Evelina's lips. The family chat group consisted of only three members—she hadn't even been added.

The last time Albin and Joanna messaged her, it was to strong-arm her into that arranged marriage, all while feigning concern as they discussed wedding gifts.

"We'll keep the wedding gifts here for you," they had insisted. "Otherwise, the Dawson family will just take everything once you move in. But don't worry, we ordered some lovely silk blankets just for you."

Looking back, she almost laughed at how naïve she'd been to feel even a flicker of gratitude.

For Tessa—who wasn't even related by blood—they handed out houses and flashy cars, filling the mansion with glittering jewelry and luxury gifts, terrified their precious girl might suffer after marrying into the Dawson family. For Evelina, though, their only worry was whether she had enough blankets.

With a single decisive tap, Evelina blocked her parents and Tessa. Her reputation was already in ruins; they probably wished she would vanish for good, sparing them further embarrassment.

She took a steadying breath, smoothing down her nerves for the workday ahead. Pulling on a high-necked undershirt beneath her uniform, she hid the fresh marks that mottled her skin—especially the dark, unmistakable hickeys scattered along her neck.

Evelina held a key position at Rise Bank, one of the country's top private banks with branches scattered across every major city skyline.

She specialized in credit operations—scrutinizing and approving every loan application before landing in the hands of the department director, Jordy Bailey. The department couldn't process a single case without her sign-off.

Yet, Evelina's aphasia complicated daily life. She couldn't use sign language during client meetings; no one else in the room would understand her.

Still, her impressive résumé—dual degrees in finance and business management—had prompted Rise Bank to bend their usual rules to bring her on board.

Of course, her entry into the bank hadn't relied solely on credentials. Her schoolmate, Jordy, had put in a good word for her at just the right moment.

One afternoon, Jordy swept into her office with his trademark easy charm, placing a thick folder on her desk. "Wright Group's credit documents—dig in as soon as you can. Leadership wants us to nail down a relationship with them. Their annual cash flow hits the billions. If we lock in this partnership, year-end bonuses will skyrocket."

His gentle manner and bright smile made him a favorite among the younger women in the office, though he seemed oblivious to his own popularity.

Evelina inclined her head in silent agreement, her practiced composure betraying no hint of nerves. She had managed credit cases so often that the process felt as natural as breathing.

Jordy leaned in, his tone casual but eyes intent. "I'll be out of town on the third—flying to Otresh for meetings. You'll need to go in my place to Harold Wright's birthday banquet."

With that, he slid an ornate, crimson invitation across the desk.

A flicker of confusion crossed Evelina's face as she glanced at the invitation.

"I've already arranged for your dress," Jordy continued, offering a reassuring smile as he reached over to ruffle her hair—a gesture that lingered a second too long. "All you need to do is deliver the gift I picked out and show your face at the banquet."

That brief, affectionate touch unsettled her, but Evelina chose not to dwell on it. She quickly lifted her hands, signing her question, her brows knitted with concern. "Me?"

Catching the hesitation in her eyes, Jordy's expression softened with genuine concern. "All you have to do is show up, use my invitation, and hand over the gift. You don't need to mingle with anyone," he said, his voice low and reassuring.

A knot of anxiety tightened in Evelina's chest. She dreaded the thought of stumbling or making a scene—anything that might embarrass Jordy or jeopardize his trust in her.

Sensing her unease, Jordy leaned in, his tone gentle but insistent. "Landing this Wright Group deal is crucial for us. My dad pulled some strings to get this invitation—it wasn't easy. Please, Evelina, just this once."

He had opened countless doors for her over the years. She owed him more than she could ever repay, and this—walking into a banquet with the city's elite—was a small price compared to all he'd done. Plenty of people would die for a chance to mingle with the Wright family; she'd be a fool to turn it down.

Evelina drew a steady breath, steadied her nerves, and signed her agreement, a grateful smile lighting up her face. "Alright, I'll go."

A month slipped by, and the Wrights' house erupted with activity—valets darted between a parade of high-end cars stacked along the roadside.

Evelina exited her taxi at the curb, cradling an ornate wooden gift box against her side. Rather than mingle with the fleet of luxury vehicles, she slipped quietly down the sidewalk, preferring to approach on foot and escape notice.

Even so, her graceful figure and composed presence drew more than a few sidelong stares through the crowd.

As the line of high-end cars came to a standstill, heads in designer interiors swiveled to follow her.

The apricot dress Jordy had chosen hugged her silhouette with subtle, sculpted lines, the neckline and slim waist artfully showcased by intricate tailoring. She wore her hair in a simple, low ponytail, no jewelry gleaming at her throat or ears—yet something about her air made her impossible to overlook.

An attendant, waiting by the door, ushered her briskly inside.

Just as she crossed the threshold, a jet-black Bentley glided to a halt at the front of the drive, calmly claiming the best spot as the waiting crowd parted in quiet recognition.

Reclining in the backseat, Andreas lounged in a perfectly fitted suit, his long legs casually crossed. His expression betrayed nothing but boredom as he glanced out at the commotion beyond the tinted window.

Without moving, he flicked his gaze toward the butler standing beside his car. "So Grandma's finally back from her spiritual retreat?"

The butler, ever composed, replied, "Your grandmother notified us two months ago. She wanted you to start immersing yourself in the company's business. Her plan was to return right before your grandfather's birthday—just in time for the family reunion."

Without waiting for the rest of the line to move, the butler opened Andreas's door with practiced efficiency, ignoring the annoyed drivers in the luxury cars behind them, all desperate to attend Harold's eightieth birthday banquet. For Andreas, though, this was just a reluctant homecoming.

After five years away, the Wrights' house felt both familiar and alien. Staff hustled through the courtyard, assembling a lavish dessert display while elegant guests mingled beside the music-flecked fountain. Andreas strode inside, his composure unshakable, his presence commanding attention without a word.

He cut a striking figure in his immaculate suit, angular jaw and cold, mesmerizing eyes drawing lingering glances from everyone he passed—yet his demeanor remained distant, untouched by the celebration swirling around him.

His striking good looks drew a flurry of furtive glances from the city's privileged young ladies, yet none dared approach—his presence radiated an icy confidence that kept everyone at bay.

Evelina, uncomfortable amidst the chatter and bright lights, quietly handed the gift for Harold to the attendant and slipped away to the edge of the crowd. She pressed a hand to her temple, a wave of nausea rising as the sweet scent of desserts mingled with the sharp tang of champagne.

Her stomach had been unsettled for days, each bout of nausea arriving without warning.

A familiar voice suddenly cut through the noise. "Evelina—what brings you here?"

Tessa swept in, somehow armed with an invitation, peacocking through the crowd in a dazzling dress. Every gesture was staged for effect—the way she swirled her wine, the tilt of her chin, the flash of the diamond ring on her right hand.

The same ring, Evelina realized, that the Dawson family had chosen for her own engagement party—now glinting shamelessly on Tessa's finger, barely two months later.

Evelina's patience frayed. She had no desire for drama and moved to slip away, but Tessa, with a practiced turn, blocked her path, refusing to let her escape so easily.

Tessa's voice dripped with mockery. "Evelina, everyone's talking about your little scandal. If I were you, I'd have the decency to stay home instead of further tarnishing our family's name."

Evelina barely spared Tessa a glance, the corners of her eyes cold and sharp with quiet disdain. She watched Tessa's theatrics, easily reading the script—provoke her, stir up a scene, then pin the fallout on her for the whole Wright family to see.

She refused to play into such an obvious ploy. With an icy composure, Evelina turned to leave, ignoring Tessa entirely.

But just as she took a step, someone's foot pinned her elaborate gown. The heavy skirt snagged, and Evelina pitched forward, unable to catch herself.

Glass crashed spectacularly against the manicured lawn as an entire pyramid of champagne flutes toppled with her, the shattering echo cutting through the party and snapping every head in her direction.