Chapter 117
Dawn's first light had barely touched the sky when a sleek red sports car pulled up outside the coffee shop.
Becky stepped out, her crimson dress catching the morning light as she strode purposefully toward a corner table.
"I thought coffee was off-limits for you these days," she said, sliding into her seat. "What's with the sudden invitation?"
Caroline's fingers hesitated briefly on her cup. "It's been so long... I figured I'd treat myself today."
The truth was more complicated. Her chemotherapy and medications had forced her to avoid stimulants like coffee.
But now—well, she simply wanted one final indulgence.
"How are things with Stanley?" she asked, studying her friend's face.
At the mention of his name, Becky rolled her eyes with practiced elegance. "Let's not ruin a perfectly good morning by discussing him."
She took a delicate sip before cautiously changing the subject. "Caroline... I heard about what happened at your grandmother's birthday. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I... I didn't even comfort you after it happened."
The unspoken guilt hung between them. Becky couldn't even imagine what Caroline had endured these past few days.
"It's nothing," Caroline replied with a gentle smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's all behind me now."
Her gracious understanding only stoked the anger Becky had been suppressing.
That bastard Stanley had immediately suppressed all news about Caroline's situation, then locked Becky in their bedroom for three days straight.
He'd claimed she was having some kind of breakdown and needed rest, essentially placing her under house arrest. She'd only managed to escape while he was at the office.
Everything Caroline had worked so hard for—gone. Today, Becky decided to make Stanley understand exactly who was in charge.
"Let's go to Eros Lounge!" she declared suddenly.
Caroline blinked, momentarily lost. "What's Eros Lounge?"
Becky's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Something special. You'll see."
---
Thirty minutes later, Caroline stared wide-eyed at the private room filled with devastatingly handsome men.
"Aren't you worried Stanley might crash your little party?" she asked quietly.
Becky waved dismissively. "This place is under the White family's protection—Arthur helped set it up. If Stanley has the balls to make a scene here, let him." Her eyes glinted dangerously. "I'm almost hoping that dog shows up."
Caroline fell silent for a moment.
"He's still your brother," she reminded gently.
"Only when I acknowledge him as such," Becky retorted. "Otherwise, he's just another mangy mutt."
She wrapped an arm around Caroline's slender waist, her tone suddenly instructive. "Men are like dogs, Caroline. They need proper training. We have to be the ones in control, understand?"
Caroline nodded vaguely. "Controlling Stanley seems... ambitious."
"That's his problem for being stupid enough to love me," Becky replied with casual indifference.
But Caroline could see through the act. Stanley had finally crossed a line.
Caroline didn't care whether Becky needed a partner; she just wanted her friend to be happy.
"Becky," she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady, "if... if someday I'm not around anymore, promise me you'll take care of yourself. Stay happy, just like you are now."
She fought to control the slight tremor in her voice, these farewell words harder to say than she'd expected.
To her surprise, Becky's face brightened with excitement. "Caroline! Are you planning a getaway too?"
"W-what?"
"You said 'if someday I'm not around'—that sounds like an escape plan to me," Becky said with conspiratorial glee. "You absolutely should leave! Let Arthur and those two little brats see what happens when you're gone. I bet Heidi would destroy them within a month!"
The thought clearly delighted her. Then she caught herself.
"But why are we wasting this beautiful day on such depressing people? We're here for fun!" She gestured casually toward several male models. "You, you, and you—take good care of my best friend here. I'll make it worth your while."
In the corner, a young man with gold-rimmed glasses had been quietly observing. Despite his scholarly appearance, he couldn't hide his youth.
Noticing Becky's gesture, confusion flickered across his face before he obediently approached Caroline's table, his innocent eyes somehow managing to radiate "keep your distance" energy.
"Hello, miss," he said stiffly.
Caroline nodded coolly. "Hello."
She was here solely for Becky's sake and had little interest in engaging with anyone else.
Blake Hamilton—the young man, visibly relieved by her indifference, relaxed and resumed scanning the room.
"Looking for someone?" Caroline asked after several minutes of silence.
Blake startled slightly, frowning as he weighed his response.
Caroline smiled faintly, unbothered by his scrutiny.
"You don't actually work here, do you?"
Rather than appearing embarrassed, Blake answered with surprising honesty, "No. I'm looking for my sister. Someone mentioned she might be here tonight, so I..." he gestured at his outfit, "improvised."
"Do you have a photo?" Caroline asked after a thoughtful pause. "Perhaps I could help."
Before leaving this world behind, she wanted one final act of kindness.
Hope flashed in Blake's eyes before quickly dimming.
"No," he admitted. "We've been separated for years. I don't have any recent pictures." His voice strengthened with conviction. "But I'd recognize her instantly if I saw her."
Caroline sighed softly. "After so many years? That's won't be easy."
"I know," Blake said with quiet determination. "But as long as there's even the slightest chance, I'll keep trying."
For years, he'd deliberately placed himself in the public eye, hoping his sister would notice him.
Against his grandmother's explicit wishes, he'd come to Sovereign City just for the possibility of seeing her again.
His unwavering determination seemed to touch something in Caroline. She fell silent, lost in thought.
The private moment shattered when the door crashed open. A tall silhouette appeared in the doorway, his commanding presence immediately changing the atmosphere in the room. The manager was right behind him.
Several models caught the manager's panicked signal and quickly slipped out.
Blake didn't move.
He sat quietly beside Caroline, acting as though the interruption had nothing to do with him.
The manager, seeing Blake remain seated, looked desperate to remove him, but the door had already closed behind Stanley's imposing figure.
Stanley strode directly to Becky's side, looming over her.
"We're leaving," he commanded, voice like steel.
Becky merely twirled her wine glass between elegant fingers. She crossed her legs unhurriedly, her red-bottomed heels swaying gently with the movement—a deliberate display of defiance.