Jada took a deep breath, forcing her emotions down, and turned to look at Caius.

He was silent, his face stormy again.

Outside, Walter tried the handle several times, finding it locked. “Jada? Did you fall asleep in there?”

“It’s over already. Mr. Brooks had to leave early — I’ll drive you home.”

Still no response. Walter called over a staff member to fetch the spare key.

Hearing the commotion, Jada closed her eyes briefly, then reached out and squeezed Caius’s hand.

His anger wavered, calming slightly as he stared back at her.

Just before the key turned in the lock, Caius sighed and leaned back.

Jada exhaled in relief, quickly pushed him into the bathroom.

At the same time, the door opened. Walter stepped inside, frowning at the empty room. “Jada?”

The lounge had been locked from the inside — there was no way to pretend she hadn’t been there.

Jada splashed water on her face in the mirror, fixed her hair, wiped away her ruined lipstick.

There were faint marks on her arms, but Walter had also lost control earlier — nothing needed explanation.

Within minutes, she looked exactly as she had when Walter had left. She smoothed her dress, erasing every trace of what had happened.

Before stepping out, Jada glanced at Caius, her voice low. “Mr. Martino…”

Caius stared at her for a long moment before speaking coldly: “Remember our terms. If you let him touch you, I won’t keep my promise.”

Jada nodded, slipped out of the room just as Walter came looking for her.

She walked up to him and looped her arm through his. “What are you doing here? Is it over already?”

Walter wasn’t so easily fooled — something felt off.

But today was his engagement day with Carmen. He had already told Jada it was just for the sake of the partnership deal, that they’d call it off when the project stabilized.

Still, guilt gnawed at him as soon as he saw her.

That strange feeling he had was quickly buried.

“Yes, it’s over.” Walter softened his tone. “Why did you lock the door? I was calling you for ages.”

Jada lowered her eyes, feigning embarrassment. “My stomach hurt. I didn’t want anyone walking in, so I locked it. I must not have heard you.”

“I just didn’t expect it to end so soon — after all, tonight wasn’t just a simple birthday party…”

Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but the sadness in it was hard to miss.

Looking at her soft, obedient expression, Walter felt a pang in his chest.

Sophia had been bright and principled, strong-willed and stubborn when crossed.

She was genuine — she loved fiercely and hated fiercely.

But she had never liked Carmen.

Walter had wanted to keep the peace, but he couldn’t stop the conflict between the sisters from deepening.

And since Carmen was frail and easily upset, every time the two clashed, Walter had to persuade Sophia to back down.

He remembered how she used to pout, accusing him of favoritism.

Just like Jada was now.

Even though Sophia had grown distant before her death, that familiar feeling still hit Walter hard, almost enough to bring him to tears.

Overcome by longing, he pulled Jada into his arms, as if he could hold Sophia again through her.

He buried his face in her neck, revealing a vulnerability he never showed to anyone.

After a long while, he pulled back, cupping the back of her head gently. “Don’t worry. It will be over soon.”

“I only think of Carmen as a little sister I need to protect. Once the Quinn family is through this crisis, I’ll break off the engagement. I won’t marry her.”

Jada said nothing, but in her hidden expression, mockery flashed.

Carmen wasn’t the type to give up what she wanted — she wouldn’t let Walter end the engagement so easily.

Jada’s lips curved in a cold smile. She wrapped her arms around Walter and patted his back gently.

Walter straightened. “You said you weren’t feeling well?”

Jada’s smile turned warm. “Just a little stomach ache — I’m fine now.”

Walter’s grip on her hand tightened, his gaze darkening. “Come to my place tonight.”

Jada lowered her head shyly. “But… won’t Miss Quinn be upset?”

Walter’s eyes turned hard. He scooped her into his arms, striding forward with urgency. “You’re my girlfriend, Jada.”

Jada looped her arms around his neck, leaning obediently against him.

Walter’s breathing grew heavier.

Holding her tight, he carried her downstairs.

After they left, Caius wheeled himself out of the bathroom.

He stared at the open doorway, his expression dark as storm clouds.

Grant Holdings was one of San Francisco’s most powerful corporations, and Walter, its young CEO, was widely admired.

He owned countless properties, but the place he took Jada was a private estate in Pacific Heights — an enclave of the city’s wealthiest elite.

Inside, Walter pinned Jada against the entryway cabinet, kissing her with an urgency that left her breathless.

Her phone lit up on the side table.

“Whose call is that?” Walter growled, annoyed.

When it kept ringing, ruining the mood, he tried to grab it.

But Jada snatched it up first, saw the screen — Mr. Martino — and powered it off without blinking. “Just a friend. Ignore it.”

Walter didn’t press. He tossed the phone aside and kissed her again.

Outside, in the corner, Caius sat in his black Rolls-Royce Cullinan, listening to the endless shut-off tone. His expression darkened.

Looking up, he caught a glimpse of two figures pressed together in the lit window above. His fury snapped. He hurled his phone aside. “Ethan, get out!”

The bodyguard immediately stepped out, pulling the folded wheelchair from the trunk.

Before he could set it up, a red Ferrari screeched to a stop at the front gate.

Ethan quickly ducked into the shadows. The Cullinan’s lights shut off.

From the Ferrari stepped a woman in a white dress and heels — Carmen Quinn.

“Mr. Martino?” Carmen called toward the house, her voice taut with anger.

Ethan glanced at the car, waiting for instructions.

Caius’s gaze lingered on the now-dark window, then he waved dismissively and leaned back.

Carmen didn’t knock. Walter never locked her out — every house she knew had her fingerprints saved in the system.

She had never been to this estate, but she knew his usual passcodes. After two tries, she got the door open.

The trail of chaos started at the entryway — phone, purse, heels — leading up the stairs, where Walter’s custom tuxedo jacket from the engagement party hung on the banister.

A surge of rage nearly blinded her. She bunched up her dress and ran upstairs.

The bedroom door wasn’t locked.

Walter was on the bed with Jada, his shirt and tie discarded on the floor.

Jada lay on her back, Walter’s kisses trailing down her neck, almost reaching her last layer of clothing.

Walter was burning up, fully lost in desire — not noticing that Jada’s clear eyes were calculating, waiting.

The timing was perfect.

She didn’t stop him.

But just before the final barrier fell, footsteps sounded outside — heels striking the floor — followed by Carmen’s voice: “Walter…”

Everything froze.

Walter scrambled up, pulling the blanket over Jada and snatching up his clothes.

Half-dressed, he nearly stumbled trying to put them on, looking nothing like the composed CEO.

Carmen stood silently, watching him dress, then turned her icy gaze on Jada, as if she could kill her where she lay.

Jada stayed quiet, calmly clutching the blanket, face unreadable.

The suffocating silence broke only after Walter finished dressing. He turned to Carmen, lips pressed tight. “Why are you here?”

At his gaze, Carmen’s expression softened, her resentment melting into wounded vulnerability. “Can’t I come?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Walter pinched the bridge of his nose, about to soothe her.

Then he remembered Jada on the bed. His words cut off. He took a deep breath. “Carmen, we’re like siblings. I’ll always care for you, protect you. But I need my own space, my own life. When the company stabilizes, I’ll end this engagement. I will marry, have a family — children — of my own.”

Carmen’s eyes welled with tears. “I know. You and my sister were together before. I understand.”

“But Walter, today was our engagement day. Couldn’t you at least spare me that humiliation?”

Walter frowned. “No one knows I came here.”

And he hated when Carmen brought up Sophia — it tore open wounds that still hadn’t healed.

Carmen’s gaze darkened, her nails digging into her palms to stop herself from screaming.

Sophia had been dead for years — why couldn’t Walter forget her?

How much longer would that woman’s shadow haunt them before she was finally gone?