Chapter 4

In the hotel lobby, the manager recognized me immediately.

He blocked the entrance to the banquet hall, a look of distress on his face.

"Ms. Summer, the venue has been changed."

"Changed to what?"

"Chloe's birthday party."

My fingers tightened around my bag strap.

I had personally booked this venue six months ago.

The deposit, the floral arrangements, the lighting — every single payment came out of my personal account.

Ethan hadn't said a word to me.

"Show me the receipt," I said coldly.

The manager wrung his hands, trying to bluff his way out. "Ethan instructed..."

"I want to see the receipt," I interrupted him.

He couldn't argue, so he pulled out the booking contract.

In the "Payer" column, my name, in stark black and white.

I snapped a photo of the contract and dialed hotel security.

When the banquet hall doors swung open, it was a lively scene inside.

Chloe sat at the head table, wearing a pink poofy dress, surrounded by seven or eight of Ethan's relatives.

Someone handed her a gift, others held up phones to take photos.

A three-tiered champagne tower stood tall, the top glass still fizzing with fine bubbles.

When she saw me, she froze for a beat.

Then she smiled.

That perfectly practiced curve of fragility, innocence, and panic.

"Sum-Summer?" She instinctively recoiled half a step into the crowd.

I didn't look at her. I walked straight to the sound control panel, and yanked out the power cord.

The music stopped abruptly. The moment the current died, the speakers emitted a sharp, screeching static.

Someone's hand trembled, knocking over a champagne glass.

The entire hall fell silent.

Ethan rose from the back row and strode to me, his face ashen.

"What are you doing?"

"Canceling the venue."

"There are elders here..."

"You used my money," I cut him off. "To host her birthday party?"

He froze.

I realized he clearly thought the company had covered the cost.

He probably hadn't even checked the payment records.

"Admin booked it," he said, a hint of guilt in his voice.

I slapped the contract onto a table.

The paper landed on the red tablecloth, covering Chloe's unopened gift box.

"See for yourself who paid."

He looked down, his Adam's apple bobbed.

People in the hall began to whisper.

One of Ethan's aunts frowned and spoke up. "Ethan, what's going on?"

He didn't answer.

Chloe's eyes, on cue, began to well up.

She clutched the sleeve of an aunt next to her, her voice quivering perfectly.

"I didn't know... I really didn't know it was Summer's venue..."

Her nose was red, her lashes glistening with tears.

I didn't spare her a glance, turning to the manager.

"The contract is here, I'm the payer. Clear the hall."

The manager hesitated for two seconds.

He looked at the contract, then at Ethan, before finally nodding to security.

Waiters began clearing tables.

Someone didn't stabilize the champagne tower while moving it, and the bottom glasses clattered against the table edge.

The crisp sound of shattering glass echoed, and spilled wine pooled across the table.

Balloons were deflated one by one, collapsing onto the carpet.

Chloe finally ran out, covering her face.

Several relatives scrambled after her.

Ethan stood amidst the wreckage.

His hands clenched into fists, silent.

I retrieved the contract and turned to leave.

Behind me, he spoke, his voice low.

"Are you satisfied?"

I didn't stop.

"I'll remember this. At next week's project meeting, you'd better have a clear head."

I pushed open the lobby's glass doors.

The sunlight outside was intense, making me squint.

I stood on the steps and pulled out my phone. Mr. Davis's business card from the rival company was still tucked into my phone case.

Before dialing, my throat tightened slightly, but my hand was perfectly steady.

It connected after two rings.

"Mr. Davis, this is Summer."

"Regarding the proposal we discussed last time, I'd like to schedule a meeting."