Chapter 174 The Ring
Inside the room, the conversation was interrupted by a sudden, heavy thud from somewhere beyond the door—like something had toppled over onto the floor. Amelia's voice faltered mid-sentence, her brows knitting instinctively.
"Hold on… I think someone's outside. Let me check."
She rose from her chair, moving toward the door. Only then did she notice it wasn't fully closed—just left ajar, as if someone had been there before.
Stepping into the hallway, she found no one in sight.
Maybe she had imagined it.
She was about to turn back when something caught her eye—a dark patch staining the deep crimson carpet near the trash bin. Amelia walked over, crouching to inspect it. In the bin sat a porcelain bowl, its contents reduced to a shallow puddle of broth that smelled faintly of ginseng.
She touched the rim. Still warm.
Someone had brought hot soup all the way here… yet instead of stepping inside, they had tossed it into the trash without a word.
It didn't take long for her to guess. At this hour, the only person likely to bring ginseng soup to Vaughn's study was Anna.
But why come all this way just to throw it out? Had she overheard the conversation inside and taken offense?
Amelia frowned slightly.
Back in the room, she simply told Vaughn there was no one outside.
Vaughn, unaware Anna had been there moments earlier, turned to Amelia. "By the way, Amelia, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
"When you first arrived in River City, you told me you were fine letting your engagement to Quentin take its course, so I didn't press the matter."
"But last night your father called me. He said he's already sent your younger sister abroad… and that your sister and Quentin will be breaking up."
To protect the Martinez family's public image, they claimed Rachel was going overseas to study.
Vaughn continued, "Your father also said he supports your marriage to Quentin and hopes to arrange your engagement soon."
"But when I asked if that was truly your wish, his answer was vague."
"You know my greatest hope is to see you become my granddaughter-in-law. Now that your father agrees, the only thing that matters to me is your own choice."
"So, Amelia… would you be willing to get engaged to Quentin and marry into the Williams family?"
The first time Amelia met Vaughn was when she had just returned to the city. Back then, the Martinez family had been anything but welcoming—Kevin and Tobias kept their distance, Jenny would have sent her back to the countryside without hesitation, and Rachel schemed against her at every turn.
At the time, she had refrained from rejecting the engagement outright, relying temporarily on the Williams family for stability.
But now things had changed.
Her five brothers in the Martinez family treated her as their most cherished sister. And she had someone far more important in her life.
"I'm not willing."
Vaughn hadn't expected her refusal to be so direct. He blinked.
"I'm in love with someone," Amelia said softly but firmly. "I love Michael… and he loves me."
The name seemed to hit Vaughn like a jolt. "Amelia… you mean Michael Johnson?"
She nodded.
Vaughn's first instinct was to mention Michael's injured legs, but he remembered seeing him standing on his own the last time they met.
The Johnson family's son was flawless in appearance, background, and capability. His only imperfection—his disability—had been resolved.
Such a man was, in truth, far more appealing than Vaughn's own grandson.
Amelia's preference for Michael over Quentin wasn't without reason.
Still, Vaughn felt a pang in his chest.
He had never heard of Michael showing interest in any woman. Not once in twenty-five years had he dated or been seen with a female companion. And yet suddenly he had feelings for Amelia—enough to confess to her?
Vaughn almost sighed aloud.
In all his life, he had never wanted a girl to join his family more than he wanted Amelia. But before that hope could take root, it was doused in cold water.
The fault, he thought bitterly, lay with his grandson for failing to win her heart.
He made one last attempt. "But Amelia… Michael is eight years older than you. What if there's a generation gap?"
She met his gaze without hesitation. "That's fine. I like older men."
Her lips curved faintly. "And as for a generation gap…"
She remembered something Eric had told her—how Michael had once sat in his office, seriously searching online for instructions on how to set her photo as his phone wallpaper.
The memory made her smile, her voice softening unconsciously. "Sometimes… a generation gap can be kind of adorable."
She would say anything to make Vaughn drop the subject.
Though she couldn't help wondering—if Michael, far away in Sulien, heard himself described as "older" at only twenty-five, how would he react?
The engagement was officially off.
Vaughn fell silent for a long moment before letting out a deep sigh. He was about to suggest they return to the banquet hall when Amelia stopped him.
"Wait. Can I see that ring you're wearing?"
On Vaughn's right thumb was a dark band, worn smooth and gleaming from years of use.
"This ring? Why?" Vaughn asked, curious but handing it over.
Amelia took it carefully.
She thought of Anna outside the door earlier, overhearing their talk, throwing away the soup in anger… and of Vaughn's upcoming cruise to the island in two days. Something about it all left her uneasy.
As her fingers closed around the ring, her eyes narrowed slightly. For the briefest second, a faint red shimmer flickered across its surface before vanishing into the air.
She masked her reaction, glanced at it casually, and returned it to him.
"Nothing. I just thought it looked nice."
Vaughn noticed nothing unusual, slipping the ring back onto his thumb.
Having already wished Mr. Williams a happy birthday and expressed her sentiments, Amelia decided not to return to the banquet hall.
Once the identity of the Bald Eagle became public, stepping back into that room would make her the center of attention.
She sent a text to Dorian and Asher letting them know she was leaving, then walked out of the Williams mansion's front doors.
Rocco was waiting outside. Old friends meeting again could never skip a few words of greeting.
But Amelia hadn't expected to see Emory there as well.
Emory stood tall and straight, his expression solemn. The moment he saw her, his eyes swept over her from head to toe.
Before she could speak, he said, "I heard from Rocco… you're the Bald Eagle?"
In the world of ancient culture, Emory was a recognized authority. His voice was steady, carrying a weight that demanded attention.
The next moment, he drew a deep breath, and a faint glimmer of moisture touched his eyes. "Good child."
Amelia barely had time to react before he clasped her hand in both of his—firm, warm, and filled with genuine emotion.
"When Rocco brought that artifact back to our country years ago, I always wanted to thank you in person."
"But he said he didn't know your true identity, or where you came from."
"Meeting you today… it fills a gap I've carried in my heart."
"Good child, thank you for those seven consecutive nights in the ring, winning back Celestria's lost relic from foreign hands. You are a hero in every sense of the word."