Chloe Fairchild: "...Huh?"
Sean Conrad: "...L-Lard?!"
Annelise Valentine didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Zane Patterson was just like her—neither of them ever lifted a finger in the kitchen. His kitchen was purely for show, so how could he possibly keep something as wholesome as honey on hand?
This jar of lard was most likely left over from when his housekeeper was cooking.
Sean Conrad looked at Zane lying on the sofa, barely conscious and frowning. His voice faltered.
"Um... Zane."
"Sorry, man! Who knew your kitchen was hiding something this intense?"
"I mean... lard. It's... it's gotta be good for the digestive system, right?"
Chloe Fairchild covered her face as she listened from the side. It was too cringeworthy to watch.
"You two, stop making things worse!" she said, carefully helping Zane up. "Go look for some sparkling water or yogurt; that might actually be useful. If you can't find any, just boil some water and let it cool to room temperature!"
"You got it!" Sean and Chloe quickly slipped into the kitchen to rummage through the cabinets, not daring to randomly touch any more bottles and jars.
After being fed some warm water, Zane seemed to feel a little better.
It was unclear whether it was from the discomfort or the immense psychological trauma of the half-cup of lard-water, but his brow remained furrowed.
Zane seemed to sense a familiar scent beside him. He murmured,
"Annelise..."
"I'm here, Zane. What is it?"
"Annelise..."
His voice was terribly hoarse, tinged with exhaustion and the stench of alcohol.
"I'm here," Annelise replied patiently.
She picked up a cotton swab, dipped it in iodine, and began carefully cleaning the blood and the wound on his hand.
After cleaning the back of his hand, she wrapped it with a simple gauze bandage. She then checked his wrist and forearm, relaxing only after confirming there were no other injuries.
Throughout the entire process, Zane kept murmuring her name intermittently.
Chloe Fairchild sighed to herself. She leaned closer to Annelise and asked,
"Annelise, does Jett Westgate know you came here all by yourself this late at night?"
"He knows."
'He doesn't just know,' she thought. 'I probably made him furious.'
"He knows?! And he... he just let you leave?"
Annelise thought of the cars in the garage, all missing their steering wheels, and rubbed her temples.
"I have my ways. Don't worry."
Sean Conrad glanced at Zane, hesitated, and finally asked, "Annelise, are you really going to get engaged to Jett Westgate?"
Annelise fell silent for a moment. "I don't want to, but..."
She suddenly recalled the story her grandfather had told at the dinner table...
'Grandpa always treated me the best.'
'When I was a child, my parents were busy with work, so Grandpa was the one who raised me. He spoiled me rotten, which is how I grew into this fearless person who's afraid of nothing.'
'He's the person I respect and rely on the most.'
'If I insist on calling off the engagement now, what will happen to Grandpa? Would he be disappointed? Would he think I'm being immature? Would he be heartbroken?'
'The thing I fear most is seeing Grandpa heartbroken. He's getting on in years. He's still spry, but he's not as strong as he used to be. I can't imagine what would happen if my selfishness made him so distraught that it affected his health...'
When Sean Conrad heard her say, "I don't want to," he was instantly thrilled, completely missing the "but..." that followed.
"That's great, Annelise! If you don't want to marry Jett Westgate, then this makes things easy!"
"Your engagement is the day after tomorrow! Time is short. We have to hurry up and think of a way to sabotage this whole affair!"
"We had to hold back in Aethelgard, but now we're on our home turf..."
He lost himself in thought, imagining all sorts of sabotage schemes and even fantasizing about Zane confessing his feelings to Annelise after she called off the engagement.
Chloe Fairchild rolled her eyes as she listened from the sidelines. She couldn't resist kicking Sean Conrad in the shin. "Sean Conrad! Shut your trap! Stop coming up with such terrible ideas!"
"Hey! How is this a terrible idea?!"
Annelise cut in, "That's enough. The marriage alliance with the Westgate Family isn't as simple as you think. Don't get involved. I'll handle this myself."
Dragging them to Aethelgard to cause a scene was already absurd enough; she didn't want to pull Chloe and Sean into this mess, too.
Chloe and Sean exchanged a glance. "Alright... In that case, Annelise, if you need anything, you have to tell us. We'll help in any way we can!"
"Okay."
The sky outside was already beginning to brighten. Annelise checked the time.
"I have to get back. My mom scheduled me for a dress fitting this morning. I'm leaving Zane to you two. When it gets a little later, order him some millet congee to eat. It's good for his stomach."
Chloe nodded. "Okay."
Annelise walked to the door, then suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right. I'm going to be busy for the next few days, so can you guys find someone to handle Skyline and the club? The club just needs to be restored to how it was. As for Skyline... find a designer to redecorate it. Just say we're upgrading the facilities. And whatever you do, don't let my parents find out about this."
Chloe gave her an "OK" sign. "Don't worry."
***
When Annelise returned to Valentine Manor, the sun was just beginning to rise.
Jett Westgate was sitting on the living room sofa, smoking a cigarette with the air of the master of the house. Pale white smoke curled upward, obscuring his face.
The contrast between him and the exhausted Annelise, with her faint dark circles, created a bizarre illusion.
She felt like a pampered young wife who had stayed out all night and been caught trying to run away.
And he was the calm and composed patriarch, waiting for her to walk right into his trap.
She knew Jett Westgate was most likely angry.
But she was in no mood to deal with the man in front of her.
She lowered her eyes, avoiding Jett Westgate's gaze. "I'm going to my room to rest."
With that, she turned and walked toward her room without a backward glance.
"Stop."
Annelise's body stiffened, and her feet stopped moving against her will.
She couldn't explain why she stopped, only that his single word carried a powerful and oppressive aura.
Jett Westgate unhurriedly extinguished the half-smoked cigarette in his hand.
Then, he began walking toward Annelise.
As he walked toward her, step by step, the faint scent of alcohol on Annelise drifted over to him.
"So you did go to see him."
He stopped in front of her. The scent of cedarwood mixed with tobacco—Jett Westgate's signature scent—instantly enveloped Annelise.
"Did you have fun?"
Annelise: "It's none of your business."
Her words enraged Jett Westgate. The next second, he seized Annelise's wrist and started dragging her toward the second-floor bedroom.
"Ah—that hurts!" She gasped in pain as he half-dragged, half-pulled her, making her stumble up the stairs.
"BANG!"
Jett Westgate kicked the bedroom door open. It slammed shut behind him. He dragged her a few steps to the bed, then violently threw her onto it!