A lump formed in my throat. “…No,” I whispered, my voice barely steady.
Vera, unfazed by Gavin’s chilly demeanor, gave me a warm smile. “Alright, don’t make things difficult for Elara,” she said lightly, as if brushing off any tension.
“Thanks for dinner,” I replied, standing up. “I should get going now.”
With that, she strode confidently toward a sleek sports car parked nearby. It was a limited edition model—something no secretary could ever afford on a lifetime’s salary.
Curiosity prickled at me, and I glanced over at Gavin, who was watching me with a cold expression. “Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t buy it for her,” he said sharply.
“Oh. Okay,” I murmured, though the conversation left a strange taste in my mouth.
I realized afterward that I sounded like a jealous girlfriend suspicious of her boyfriend’s expensive gifts to other women. And yet, Gavin had actually bothered to explain himself, which only added to the oddness of the moment.
That uneasy feeling lingered with me all the way back to Gavin’s villa, only beginning to fade when I finally slid behind the wheel of my own car.
Inside the villa, Aiden was sprawled on the living room couch, looking utterly bored. When he heard the noise from the courtyard, he shuffled out wearing his leather loafers, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “Well, well. Heard you took your ‘dear little sister’ out for dinner?” he teased.
I was just closing my car door when I caught his teasing words. For a moment, I froze, the strange sensation from earlier returning with a stronger punch. My eyes instinctively flicked toward Aiden.
Only then did he realize I’d come back with Gavin. Under the full force of Gavin’s icy glare, Aiden forced a casual smile. “Hey, little Elara. So… your brother didn’t give you a hard time today, did he?”
“No, he didn’t,” I replied, watching Aiden act so normal that I began to wonder if I was simply overthinking everything again. Pressing my lips together, I added, “Aiden, I should get going.”
“You bet. Drive safe, alright?” Aiden exhaled quietly, waving me off, clearly relieved to see me slip away from the tension that hung thick in the air.
Just a couple of days later, I received a call from Adela, my old classmate who runs that charming little jewelry workshop. She told me the replica of the four-leaf clover necklace was ready for pickup.
I stopped by her studio before heading to the clinic for my shift.
Adela, a true night owl, was still up when I arrived. She handed me two identical necklaces, placing them carefully in my palm. “Alright, guess which one’s the original?” she challenged with a playful grin.
I looked up, my brow knitting together. “Where is what?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
“Don’t pretend,” she snapped, marching over to my desk and grabbing my purse. She began to frantically dig through it, as if whatever she was searching for was a lifeline.
I opened the top right drawer and retrieved one of the necklaces. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
She snatched it from my hand, glanced at it quickly, and tossed it into her own bag. “How did you convince Zane to give this to you?”
I just smiled calmly. “I told him I liked it. He said I could borrow it for a few days.”
“No way!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “He’s always treated this thing like it’s more precious than he treats me—”
“More precious than you?” I let out a soft, almost amused laugh, meeting her gaze with steady calm. “Are you absolutely sure this item ever belonged to you in the first place?”

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