Chapter 3

Gavin pulled out a pair of plain cufflinks from the velvet box, his voice rising as he said, "Samuel just posted a picture on Moments. He's showing off that diamond tie clip you gave him. And this is what I get? What is this supposed to be, the cheap accessory that came with his gift?" His outrage didn't stir even a flicker of emotion in me. "Don't be ridiculous. You're overthinking it. They're from the same collection," I replied evenly. "I bought them together." Watching his face grow darker, I kept my tone perfectly calm. "Yours is the standard design—simple, elegant, and something you can wear every day. "As for Samuel's…" I smiled faintly. "Well, it's a gift for a close friend. Of course, it should be brighter and flashier—something that suits him." I stood up, ignoring the sound of his heavy breathing and the redness in his eyes. "It's late. I'm tired after today, so I'm going to bed. You've been drinking and smoking—You should sleep in the guest room tonight." Back in my bedroom, I asked the reaper impatiently, "How many points now?" "30." Oh, what a long road this was—breaking a scumbag's heart one crack at a time. A few days later, I stopped by a couture boutique. Vanessa was standing before a mirror in the velvet gown I had personally chosen and altered three times. The zipper down her back was open, exposing her smooth skin. And right behind her stood Gavin. Their postures were close, and their reflections intimate. "Come on," he teased. "With those broad shoulders of yours, this dress barely holds up as it is." "Get lost! I've got curves, thank you very much!" she snapped. "Not like those frail little women—lying in bed like a stick. I don't know how you put up with that! "Are you done staring? Pull it up already!" she ordered. As she jabbed an elbow back at him, Gavin's eyes suddenly flicked up—and he froze. He'd seen me. Vanessa followed his gaze, and a flash of satisfaction crossed her lips before she quickly feigned surprise. She turned to shield her back, exclaiming, "This is your fault! You said it looked good and made me try it on. Now I'm embarrassed in front of her!" Gavin cleared his throat. "Vanessa's also attending the annual gala. She doesn't own anything formal, and none of the off-the-rack pieces pleased her. Give her this one. You can pick another dress later. Put it on the company account." When I didn't answer, Vanessa gave a little theatrical sigh and twisted her ankle dramatically. "Ugh, I told you I didn't want to go! These girly dresses are so uncomfortable. It's strangling me. Don't make her feel awkward. I'll just take it off." Gavin immediately steadied her by the waist and turned to me. "Clara, it's just a dress. Don't be so petty." They expected me to explode. Instead, I smiled warmly. "No need to take it off. The dress really suits you, Vanessa. You look beautiful in it." She froze, startled, while Gavin looked equally confused. Just then, the curtain of the next fitting room slid open with a sharp swish. Samuel stepped out, dressed in a deep gray suit. It was meticulously tailored. He adjusted his cufflinks and said lazily, "Clara, your taste is still impeccable—" He stopped mid-sentence as he raised his gaze, taking in the scene before him. "Oh, everyone's here?" Gavin's pupils contracted the instant he saw the suit Samuel was wearing. It was the same design as his own—part of the matching set I had commissioned for us to wear at the annual gala.