Chapter 41
After dinner, the servants brought out desserts and fruits.
Sloane took my hand and spoke earnestly: "Ophelia, you see, your grandfather and I are getting old. We don't have many other wishes - we just hope to see Benjamin settle down and get married soon."
She glanced at Benjamin across from us, her tone taking on a note of urgency. "We shouldn't interfere in your young people's affairs, but since you've decided to get married, shouldn't you set a wedding date soon?"
Quentin also put down his cup and added in a deep voice: "Yes, it should be settled. The Wilson family's eldest grandson's wife can't be left in this uncertain position."
My heart skipped a beat.
Marriage? That word had never appeared in the deal between Benjamin and me.
I instinctively gripped my cup tighter. The warmth from the cup seeped through to my fingertips, but it couldn't dispel the sudden panic in my heart. How should I respond? Say we're just business partners? That would surely hurt their feelings.
Just as I was caught in this dilemma, Benjamin, who had been silent, spoke up.
He looked at his grandparents with a serious expression, his tone steady as always: "Grandfather, Grandmother, I understand what you're thinking. But marriage is a lifelong matter for Ophelia - we can't rush it."
He paused, then turned his gaze to me. In those deep eyes, my somewhat flustered reflection was clearly visible.
"I'll follow her wishes," he said, each word clearly and solemnly, "and I'll work hard to make her willingly agree to marry me."
The word "work hard," coming from his mouth, carried a strange persuasive power.
There was a moment of silence in the living room, then Sloane's face broke into a smile. "Good! Our Benjamin really knows how to care for people. It's settled then - you'd better put in the effort!"
I looked at Benjamin. He was raising his cup, using the motion of drinking coffee to hide the faint smile that flashed across his lips.
When we were leaving, Sloane held my hand reluctantly.
Quentin went to his study and brought out an antique wooden box, placing it in front of me.
"Take this. A meeting gift." His tone was still brief, but carried an authority that wouldn't accept refusal.
I looked at Benjamin hesitantly. He nodded slightly at me.
Only then did I reach out to take it. Opening the wooden box, I found a ring lying quietly inside.
The ring was set with a ruby, its color rich and deep, glowing with a warm, understated radiance under the light - clearly a priceless antique.
This gift was too valuable. It wasn't just a piece of jewelry, but a symbol of status, a silent recognition.
"Thank you, Grandfather." I solemnly closed the box and held it in my hand, feeling its heavy weight pressing down to the bottom of my heart.
In the car on the way back, I rubbed the wooden box in my hands, silent for a long time.
By the time we returned to the White Mansion, it was already very late.
Only one wall lamp was left on in the living room. I changed my shoes and was about to go upstairs when Amelia's door suddenly opened.
She was wearing a pink lace nightgown, sprayed with sickly sweet perfume, her face showing deliberately fake concern. "You're finally back. It's so late - were you with Mr. Wilson?"
I couldn't be bothered with her and walked straight past.
But she followed persistently, her voice carrying an urgent probing tone. "Don't be angry, I'm just concerned about you. Oh, by the way, Dad was talking about it today, saying Mr. Wilson is so busy, he wonders when he'll have time to come eat at our house again?"
Her intentions were completely obvious. In those pretty eyes, desire and calculation for power and wealth shone without any attempt to hide them.
I stopped, turned back, and gave her a cold glance, my tone devoid of warmth: "I don't know."
With that, I went straight upstairs, shutting out her resentful gaze and that sickly sweet perfume smell behind the door.
I leaned against the door, listening to the reluctant footsteps downstairs, a cold smile curving my lips.
Amelia's interest in Benjamin was even stronger than I'd imagined.
She wouldn't give up so easily.
But so what? An ant trying to shake an elephant would only be crushed - there was no other outcome.
The next day, I had just arrived at the office.
Amelia walked up to me in high heels, looking down at me from above. Her gaze was like a poisoned knife, as if she wanted to carve chunks of flesh from my body.
"Ophelia, don't think you can rest easy just because you've latched onto Benjamin." She lowered her voice, full of malice. "Don't forget, you still have that hundred-million-dollar bet with Dad. The company's performance is declining now, and we need to develop new clients. You can't just sit around and enjoy yourself, right?"
I looked up at her, quietly watching her performance.
Seeing I wasn't reacting, she pulled out a blank client development plan from her folder and slammed it on my desk, her lips curving into a smug, malicious smile.
"How about this - you go out and drum up business today. When you land a new client worth at least ten million, then you can come back to the company. Otherwise, don't bother coming back."
These words were basically kicking me out. In today's poor market conditions, landing a completely new ten-million-dollar client in one day was pure fantasy.
She thought this would embarrass me, make me lose face in front of everyone.
But I slowly stood up, picked up the blank plan, and even gave her a faint smile.
"Fine."
My straightforward answer caught her off guard, as if her punch had landed on cotton.
I picked up my handbag and, under the sympathetic yet entertained gazes of everyone in the office, walked past her with composure.
Amelia's petty tactics actually gave me freedom. I happened to need to see Benjamin anyway.
As I walked toward the elevator, I called Benjamin's assistant, Luca, to arrange a lunch meeting to discuss the investment details.
Luca quickly replied that Benjamin had an international conference in the afternoon and had time at noon.
I chose a restaurant known for its privacy, booked a private room, and sent over the address.
The restaurant was located on the top floor of a building in the city center. When the elevator doors opened, a server respectfully led me to the reserved room.
The wooden sliding door was slowly pulled open. I stepped inside, but the moment I saw the room's layout, I paused slightly.
The private room wasn't large, but it was decorated elegantly and romantically.
Facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, there was only a small table for two. On the table were scented candles, a vase with a bouquet of white roses in full bloom, and even the tableware was in matching heart shapes.