Chapter 55
I pretended not to notice her suddenly changed expression and that covering gesture, turning my attention back to the list, checking off each item one by one.
Marlowe just wanted to get rid of me as quickly as possible now. Her movements were almost rough in their haste as she took out jewelry and expensive ornaments from the safe one by one, piling them on the vanity.
Amelia stood to the side, watching as those jewels that "should have been" hers were counted out piece by piece. Her face looked even worse than Marlowe's, the resentment in her eyes almost taking physical form.
I methodically verified each item until the last one on the list was checked off, then finally looked up. I picked up a ruby bracelet of exceptional quality, examined it carefully under the light for a moment, then let out a soft sound.
"What's wrong?" Marlowe's voice was tense.
"Nothing," I held the bracelet up to her, pointing at an almost invisible tiny scratch, my tone innocent yet regretful. "It's just that this bracelet was my mother's favorite. Unfortunately, it seems to have gotten scratched somehow. I wonder if it can still be repaired."
Marlowe leaned in to look. The scratch was so faint it was almost negligible, but she felt so guilty at this moment that she didn't dare argue with me, afraid I would expose her secret hiding of the safe.
She gritted her teeth, practically squeezing the words out: "I didn't take good care of it. I'll compensate you! Whatever you like, just go buy it. I'll reimburse you!"
"Oh, I couldn't," I said politely, though a faint smile tugged at my lips. "But since you put it that way, I won't hold back."
Amelia hadn't taken much jewelry from me, and under Preston's pressure, she reluctantly returned everything to me.
I packed everything into boxes I'd prepared beforehand and, under the murderous glares of Amelia and Marlowe, calmly left the White Mansion.
Without a moment's delay, I drove straight to the city's most authoritative notary's office, having notified Benjamin in advance.
When he arrived, I was confirming document details with the lawyer.
He walked over and naturally sat down beside me, took the asset list, glanced at it briefly, then handed it to his legal team. "Follow Ms. White's wishes. All procedures must be done with the utmost rigor and thoroughness."
His lawyers were highly efficient and quickly drafted all the documents that needed notarization.
But just before I signed, Benjamin suddenly spoke to his lawyer: "Wait a moment."
I looked at him questioningly.
He pulled out another document from his briefcase, pushed it in front of me, his voice low and steady. "This is partial equity in my suburban equestrian club and a tech company. Take a look, let's add it in together."
I froze.
Even the lawyer I'd hired showed a shocked expression.
He was directly giving me half of his assets.
"Benjamin," I looked at him, a complex emotion rising in my chest. "What are you doing?"
"Giving you security." He looked into my eyes, those deep eyes showing no hint of jest, only undeniable seriousness. "Our marriage is a partnership, but it's also real. I don't want you to feel like you're the only one giving and taking risks in this marriage."
Looking at his open gaze, I suddenly understood what Aurora had meant.
But I was doing the property notarization to protect against the wolves of the White family, not him.
I pushed his document back, gently shaking my head. "I appreciate the gesture, but it's not necessary." Meeting his slightly puzzled look, I said firmly, "I trust you."
These words carried more weight than any legal document.
Benjamin looked at me, silent for a moment, as if stars were lighting up in the depths of his eyes.
He didn't insist further, just nodded and said quietly, "Okay."
Leaving the notary's office, he drove me to work. Soothing music played in the car; the atmosphere was much more relaxed than on the way there.
I leaned back in my seat, watching the scenery fly past the window, when I suddenly remembered the secret in Marlowe's closet.
"Today at the White Mansion, I discovered something interesting." I turned my head to look at Benjamin, who was driving.
"What?"
"There's another safe hidden in Marlowe's closet." I briefly described what had happened. "She was very nervous, extremely nervous. There must be something shady in there."
Benjamin's fingers moved slightly on the steering wheel. He just raised an eyebrow slightly, his tone calm as if discussing the weather. "Want to know what's inside?"
"Of course."
"Not difficult," he said, eyes on the road, his voice steady as he offered a solution. "Amelia is a good entry point. She's vain and foolish. Just dangle some bait, and getting information out of her will be easy."
He said it casually, as if it were just another normal business strategy.
I actually thought it was a good method. Amelia was indeed Marlowe's biggest weakness.
I didn't say anything, just nodded to show I agreed with the approach.
But after my nod, the atmosphere in the car changed subtly.
Benjamin said nothing more, just drove in silence.
His fingers on the steering wheel unconsciously tightened, his profile appearing somewhat cold and hard in the shifting light.
I belatedly realized he seemed to be expecting something, and I hadn't given him the reaction he wanted.
I silently looked at the cold, hard lines of his profile, that subtle feeling rising in my heart again.
I pushed down that strange feeling and brought my attention back to business, speaking in a calm tone: "This plan is good, but I need you to help me contact Amelia."
My initiative seemed to soften his tense jawline slightly.
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, didn't ask questions, just responded in a low voice: "Okay."
Benjamin's efficiency was astonishing.
In just one day, he created a perfect "chance encounter" opportunity for Amelia.
The location was a members-only luxury SPA club in the city, where Amelia was a regular.
I didn't go. I had no interest in even watching such a clumsy performance.
I just sat on the large sofa in Benjamin's office, listening as he played the live audio feed from Luca on speakerphone.
In the recording, Amelia's voice was so affected that it gave me goosebumps, full of surprise and deliberate shyness. "Mr. Wilson? What a coincidence, are you here to relax too?"
Benjamin's voice sounded as cool as always, with a touch of casualness. "Yes."
A simple response, but enough to make Amelia's heart soar. She immediately seized the conversation, chattering on to show herself off, quickly steering the topic to my marriage with him.
"Ophelia is so lucky to marry Mr. Wilson," Amelia's tone carried just the right amount of "envy." "But she's so reserved, she might not know how to please you. Please don't hold it against her."
"It's fine," Benjamin's voice revealed no emotion. "Getting engaged to Ophelia is the optimal choice for the interests of the Wilson family and the White family."
This statement was like a shot of adrenaline, precisely injected into Amelia's ambition.