Chapter 3 Matchmaking Dinner

Lillian felt a searing pain on her cheek, and another slap was coming. Without thinking, she caught the woman's wrist.

"You dare fight back?" Grace shrieked.

"Don't forget, that old hag's still in the hospital. Without me and your uncle, there's no way you'll be able to keep her alive!"

Seeing Lillian back down, Grace gave a cold laugh and flopped onto the couch. The TV was still on, playing today's entertainment news.

On the screen, a handsome, aloof man faced reporters. "The woman I love," he said, "will be well-protected, free from any worry."

"No relationship updates to share. When there is, I'll let everyone know."

A familiar ache tightened in Lillian's chest, pricked by those words. She couldn't tell if it was her face that hurt or something else. Three years with Conrad, yet to him, she left no trace.

Of course—he'd only wanted her body. Who was talking about feelings?

Grace's sharp voice broke the silence. "Your uncle and I just found you a decent man. Now that you're nearly done with college, it's time to get married. He's a few years older, which means he'll know how to take care of you. Just give him a son, and you'll have an easy life."

After that, Grace picked up her bag and headed out. "I'm leaving now. This month, you can cover that old hag's hospital fees yourself."

Lillian's voice rose, "Didn't Uncle say he'd handle it?"

"With what? Isn't taking you in enough? Does your cousin not need food or clothes? Next month's her school dance, and plenty of wealthy bachelors will be there. That's it!"

Grace slammed the door behind her. Exhausted, Lillian slid down against the doorframe to sit on the floor.

Before she could even feel sad, her phone buzzed. A new job opening was posted in her work group chat.

"City N Auto Show needs two female models, ages 18 to 25, height 175 cm or above. Bring a bare-faced, 2-inch photo to the interview. Pay is daily."

Lillian wiped her face, clicked on private chat, and sent in her resume. She didn't have the luxury of sitting around thinking about Conrad—she needed to make money as soon as possible.

******

Five Days Later.

Conrad had just stepped off the plane when Ford asked, "Mr. Conrad, would you like to head back to the Hillside Villa for some rest?"

"Take me to Taylor Mansion."

Ford nodded knowingly. That was the place where Conrad had first taken Lillian three years ago. She'd spent most of her time there waiting for him, unless his driver picked her up to accompany him at the Hillside Villa.

Conrad was in a good mood; he'd just closed a huge deal.

After ignoring her for a few days, she should understand his stance by now. Going by her usual style, she'd probably already put on the outfit he liked, filled the bath, and whipped up a few snacks he enjoyed, ready to apologize in that soft voice of hers.

It'd been a month—her money had to be running low by now. She usually found ways to ask him for more around this time. Given how well-behaved she'd been for the past few years, he was willing to give her another chance.

Lillian never stayed mad for more than three days. Money always cheered her up.

The car pulled up, and Conrad stepped out, expecting her to come running over and wrap her arms around him. Instead, there was no sign of her.

Frowning, he slipped off his shoes and walked in. The kitchen was empty, and the dining table had no food waiting for him. He headed straight upstairs.

The bedroom was spotless, just as she'd left it. Her skincare products, clothes, and even the headbands she liked to wear were all still there. A breeze blew in from the balcony, lifting the curtains, but the room felt empty—there was no trace of Lillian anywhere.

"Where is she?" he finally demanded, unable to contain his irritation.

The housekeeper, looking flustered, stammered, "Miss Lillian hasn't been back for two weeks, and she's not answering her phone. I assumed she was with you…"

Conrad grabbed his phone and tossed it at the housekeeper. "Call her."

Did she really think she could make him bend?

Lillian, you truly don't know your place.

Meanwhile, Lillian had just picked up her paycheck. With that and selling the bracelet Conrad had given her at a pawn shop, she'd have just enough to cover her grandmother's medical bills this month.

When Ford's message came through, she was actually in a pretty good mood.

[Miss Lillian, where are you? Mr. Conrad is back and furious that you're not here.]

Furious? Well, he could go find another woman then, couldn't he? She blocked Ford and deleted the message.

Just then, her uncle John called.

"Lillian, we're having a family dinner at the hotel tonight. Dress nicely and come join us."

Lillian was exhausted, but her grandmother was under their care, so she had no choice but to agree. She went home, changed into a dress, and headed to the hotel.

As soon as she sat down, she knew this wasn't just a simple family dinner.

With a sickly sweet smile, Grace began introducing the nearly sixty-year-old man beside her. "Mr. Mark, this is my niece Lillian. Isn't she even more beautiful than in the photos? Just look at that face—she was born to bear sons. You marry her, and in no time, she'll give you exactly what you want."

The moment Mark laid eyes on Lillian, he wasn't thinking about sons. A stunning beauty like her, all he could think about was bringing her home as his wife.

"She's still…untouched?" he asked.

Grace gave a sly smile. "No need to worry. You can go upstairs to check."

She handed the room key to Mark.

The slimy gaze on Lillian made her skin crawl. Just as she turned away, she spotted a familiar couple taking a seat at the table next to hers—it was Conrad and Evelyn.

"Mr. Conrad, thank you for taking me out to dinner. I've never been to such a fancy place before," Evelyn said, voice filled with awe.

Conrad smiled politely, motioning for the waiter to hand her the menu. "Order whatever you like."

Lillian's face turned, and she clenched her teeth, looking away. Of all places to run into him.

"Mom, look, it's Conrad!" Her cousin, Fanny, whispered excitedly, while Grace, just as surprised, noticed him too.

Grace gave Fanny a look. "Switch seats with Lillian. Let Mr. Mark have a chance to talk to her."

Fanny didn't hesitate, immediately moving next to Grace, her eyes glued to Conrad.

As Mark slid over, the smell of cigarette smoke mixed with overpowering cologne filled the air.

"Lillian, right? I heard you're still in college? What's your major?" Mark asked with a greedy smile.

"Directing," Lillian replied quietly, looking down.

"Oh, what a shame! With your looks, you should be an actress. Just look at these hands…" His hairy, slightly sweaty hand clamped onto her wrist, giving it a squeeze. "So soft and delicate."

Lillian tried to pull her hand back, but his grip only tightened. He leaned closer, his stale breath making her gag. "Wonder if the rest of you is just as soft?"

Crash! A piece of silverware hit the floor with a loud clatter, drawing everyone's attention.

Mark released her hand, and just as Lillian took a relieved breath, she locked eyes with Conrad's blank expression.

Evelyn's apologetic voice rang beside him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Conrad, I—"

"A woman's hands are delicate," Conrad said coolly. "Don't bother picking up broken glass. That's not for you." As he spoke, a waiter came over with a broom to clean it up.

When this man wanted, he'd treat a woman like royalty.

But the ones he discarded? They were left in the dust.

"Lillian, don't you see Mr. Mark's wine glass is empty? Can't you show a little consideration?" Grace scolded, giving her a glare.

"I'm not feeling well—I'm just going to the restroom," Lillian replied, forcing herself to stand.

"In such a rush? I specially ordered this soup for you. Drink it while it's hot." Grace pointed at the soup in front of her.

Lillian picked up the bowl and downed it in one gulp, then got up to leave, not wanting to see Conrad another second longer.

Watching her go, Mark smacked his lips. "She doesn't seem too willing, huh?"

"Oh, she's just shy. We've already agreed—you're the best thing that could happen to her."

"She just drank the bowl of the drugged soup, so you'll be satisfied tonight, Mr. Mark," Grace added.

"Fine, I'll try her out. But if she's not—"

"Oh, please. Our Lillian's no freebie. We still expect that investment of yours, Mr. Mark. Don't forget to pay up."