3: 3

3

The wedding is tomorrow.

The wedding planner called two days ago to confirm the schedule. I told them everything stood as arranged.

The gown was ordered half a year ago. Angela went for the fitting. I didn't go with her. She said there was no need, Fred would take her.

I didn't think much of it at the time.

Looking back now, the signs were there all along.

She'd already shot the wedding photos with Fred.

The last thing she said to me tonight was, "I took the pendant."

Telling me. Not asking me.

And now I stand here watching Angela reach out and take the pendant from Fred's hand, close her fingers tight around it.

Then she lifts her eyes to me, brows knit, looking at me like some stranger making trouble for no reason.

The last thing left inside me finally broke.

"I won't be there tomorrow. I'll organize all of Simmons Group's files tonight and send them to your email. The company seal and the corporate seal are on the second shelf of the safe. The code is your birthday."

"The IPO is already squared away with the underwriters. From here on you just follow up."

Angela froze for a second, finally realizing I wasn't saying it in anger.

"Miles, what's that supposed to mean?"

Behind her, Fred tugged her gently by the arm and murmured, "Angie, Miles is upset right now. Don't take him seriously."

He looked at me with that not-quite-a-smile in his eyes, though his mouth still wore the face of the good little brother.

"Miles, cool off. Tomorrow's your big day. Calling it off at the last minute will only make you a joke."

I gave him one cold look and turned for the door.

Angela shouted after me, "Miles! You stop right there!"

"Let me tell you, this wedding is not being canceled. The Simmons family can't afford that kind of embarrassment!"

"If you don't show up tomorrow, I'll marry Fred!"

"Don't come crying later!"

I didn't stop.

By the time I got back to the old Simmons residence, the sky was fully dark.

The osmanthus tree in the yard was one the old man had planted with his own hands, filling the whole courtyard with sweetness every autumn.

The plaque above the gate had been passed down through generations of the Simmons family.

Four words carved there: A House of Good Deeds. Every year at New Year's, the old man watched with his own eyes as I wiped it clean.

I had packed my things and was about to leave when a white Porsche pulled in.

Angela pushed the door open and got out, that same cold look still on her face.

Fred came around from the passenger side and walked quickly up to me.

"Miles!" He reached for my suitcase. "Don't do this. Where are you going, dragging a suitcase around in the middle of the night?"

I didn't let go.

He paused, then drew his hand back.

He sighed, his tone gentle. "I know you're feeling low. But things are already what they are. Are you really going to push it this far?"

"What Angie said just now was only temper. Why hold it against her? You know what she's like."

Angela leaned against the car door, arms folded across her chest, watching me coldly.

"Fred, why are you even bothering to talk to him?"

"He's the one who wants to leave."

Fred glanced back at her, then turned to me and lowered his voice. "Miles, listen to me. Put the suitcase back. The wedding goes ahead tomorrow as planned."

"If you don't want that set of wedding photos, we can reshoot. I'll get the photographer to rush the prints tonight. There should still be time."

I looked at him.

Under the streetlight his eyes looked especially sincere, brows drawn slightly together, mouth set with just the right amount of worry.

But his mouth was smiling.

Faint. Almost impossible to see.

But I grew up with him.

Twenty-five years. I knew that expression too well.

Every time he made a mess and I cleaned it up for him.

He'd stand off to the side, wearing exactly this expression.

"Move," I said.

Fred blanked for a moment, then gave a wry smile. "Miles, why won't you just listen?"

Angela walked over, her heels clicking hard against the gravel.

"Miles, you just walk out like that. Did you ever think about how I'm supposed to explain it to our relatives and friends?"

"Everyone shows up first thing tomorrow, and the groom's gone. Where does that leave the Simmons family's face?"

"But I've got it figured out now." She let out a cold laugh. "You want to go? Then go. The Simmons family won't miss one of you."

"All these years, you thought you were so important? You think the company can't run without you?"

"Let me tell you, tomorrow I'll put Fred on the board. He's every bit as good as you."

4: 4

4

I said nothing and stepped around her, moving on.

That was when Fred called out, "Wait."

I stopped.

He strolled up to me, slowly, the gentleness on his face peeling away piece by piece like a mask.

"Miles." He gave a short laugh, his voice neither loud nor soft. "If you're really leaving the Simmons family, then there's something we need to make clear."

"You can go. But you don't get to take anything that belongs to the Simmons family."

Angela blinked. "Fred, what are you saying?"

Fred turned, spread his hands at her, all reluctance.

"Angie, think about it."

"When Grandfather took him in, he was just an orphan. He had nothing to his name."

"The food, the clothes, everything he used — which of it didn't come from the Simmons family?"

"His tuition, Grandfather paid for it."

"His position in the company, Grandfather arranged it."

"The house he lives in now, the car he drives, all of it is Simmons money."

"He wants to leave? Fine. But he doesn't get to take Simmons property with him."

"Otherwise, how is that any different from stealing?"

Angela frowned slightly. "That's... maybe a bit much?"

Fred sighed, walked over and put an arm around her shoulders, his tone earnest. "Angie, I know you have a soft heart."

"But think about it. Grandfather was so good to him, raised him like a real son, even gave him the family pendant."

"And now he's throwing a fit over something this small and threatening to walk out. Is that how he repays Grandfather's memory?"

Then he pressed harder. "Yes, he ran the company all these years. But that's Simmons property. Without Grandfather backing him, what did an outsider have that gave him the standing to run anything?"

"Grandfather giving him that chance was a kindness, not something he was owed."

"So the way I see it, leaving with nothing is only fair."

Angela's eyes flickered, but she kept her face cold and nodded.

"You're right."

"Miles, open the suitcase."

My hand tightened around the handle.

The streetlight was dim, too weak to make out her expression.

But her chin was tilted up, like she was interrogating a criminal.

I pressed my lips together and spoke each word slowly. "That's right. The Simmons family raised me for twenty-five years."

"But after Grandfather passed, I took over Simmons Group."

"I poured everything into it these years, took it from a mid-sized company to one of the top firms in Riverton."

"And now it's about to go public."

"I didn't eat and live off anyone for free!"

"Angela."

"Are you sure you still want to search my suitcase?"

Angela went quiet.

That was when Fred twisted the knife from the side. "Miles, I know you're good."

"But without the Simmons family as your platform, do you really think you could have gotten this far?"

"Don't put Angie in a hard spot. She's only thinking of the family too."

"You open the case, we check it, everything's fine, and we let you go right away."

"If you won't, that only proves you've got something to hide."

Angela's eyes went colder. "You heard him. Open it!"

I said nothing more, bent down, laid the case flat, and pulled the zipper open.

The lid flipped back, the case lying open on the ground.

When they saw what was inside.

Fred froze.

And Angela froze too.