Leave the Wrong for the Right

Quincy's assistant, Calvin Jones, just seems naturally at odds with me. The first incident happened at our engagement party. Taking advantage of the moment when I was toasting the guests, he used a box cutter to slash the leg of my custom-made suit pants. That day, I stood on the stage, the torn hem of my pants swinging with every move. Down below, the big shots of River City's business district whispered among themselves, their amused glances impossible to hide. The veins on my hand gripping the wine glass bulged, yet Quincy pulled me aside and whispered, "He's still young," and I held back. The second time was even worse—he secretly changed the time and location on the wedding invitation. Originally, the wedding was set at River City International Hotel, but he changed it to a guesthouse in Y City and sent out the invitations. Three days before the wedding, I received dozens of questioning calls. Mr. Clark said he and his team were blocking the guesthouse entrance in Y City, and Mr. Lee said he'd booked a flight to Y City but couldn't find the venue. I read Quincy's explanation that 'Calvin just had a slip of the hand' and held back my anger once again. But the third time, he crossed every single one of my bottom lines. The night before the wedding, in the ballroom of the Empire Hotel, the light from the crystal chandeliers scattered over the guests like shattered diamonds. I was holding a glass of champagne, toasting with our partners, when I heard the words 'Congratulations on your wedding, Mr. Shawn'—then my mobile suddenly vibrated. I looked down at the screen, and the preview image froze me instantly—Quincy and Calvin were in the presidential suite where we were supposed to stay tomorrow, their intimacy painfully obvious. "Mr. Shawn? What's wrong?" The partner's voice snapped me back to reality. I forced a smile and slipped my phone back into my pocket. "Excuse me for a moment." My feet felt weighed down with lead as I hurried toward the restroom. The moment I locked the stall door, I pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling so much I could barely tap the screen. The voices in the video were soft, but each word was like a needle piercing my heart. "Bang!" My fist smashed against the tiled wall of the stall; the pain in my knuckles was nothing compared to the tearing ache in my chest. "Mr. Shawn, are you in there?" The secretary's voice came from outside the door, anxious, "Ms. Scott has arrived and is looking for you." I took a deep breath, splashed cold water on my face, and straightened my tie. When I pushed open the door, the man in the mirror looked pale, but his eyes were filled with a surge of fury. "Tell Quincy Scott I'm waiting for her on the terrace." The night breeze on the terrace was a bit chilly, clearing my mind. I gazed at the myriad lights of River City in the distance, remembering the first time I met Quincy Scott three years ago. Back then, the Scott family was on the brink of bankruptcy. Quincy Scott, wearing a white dress and with red-rimmed eyes, came to me and said, "Mr. Shawn, please help the Scott family." I helped not only by injecting capital but also by opening up upstream and downstream channels for her. At the time, she held my hand and said, "Yale, I will never betray you in this lifetime." Looking back now, those words sound like a joke. The sound of high heels drew nearer. Quincy wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, her voice soft and sweet: "Yale, why are you hiding here? Everyone's been looking for you." I slowly turned around and gently pushed her away. Under the moonlight, the marks on her neck stood out clearly, exactly matching what I saw in the video. "Where did you just go?" Suppressing my anger, I wanted to give her one more chance. She pressed her lips together, about to speak, but Calvin stepped out from behind her. He put his hands in his pockets, looking at me with a provocative gaze. "Mr. Shawn, is it necessary to be so strict before marriage? Will Ms. Scott even have any space of her own in the future?" I fixed my gaze on Calvin, my voice turning cold. "I'm asking Quincy Scott, not you." Seeing Calvin stand up, Quincy immediately defended him, reaching out to pinch his cheek. "Yale, don't argue with Calvin, he's still just a kid."