Ch. 91..100

Chapter 91

Competing for the Crown

Jasper had not had the chance to tell Harvey about any of this.

"We'll talk about the shares later,” he said. “But as for the Director position..."

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Even Jasper was puzzled. He had made it clear to Summer that she could have the Director's seat only if she secured Marc Gerbers. But now...

His gaze slowly turned toward Summer.

"Summer," he asked, his voice laced with doubt, "don't tell me you've closed the deal with Marc Gerbers? They've agreed to move into Stewart Mall?”

Summer arched a brow, the corners of her lips lifting ever so slightly. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the contract onto the table.

"That's right. Now, Father, it's time for you to keep your promise."

Jasper knew better than anyone just how difficult it was to win over Marc Gerbers. Even when he had sent his most trusted people to request a meeting, the brand's principal, Martin Michaux, had refused to even open the door.

Letting Summer try had only been his Plan A. But this... this was no small matter for Stewart Group. Securing Marc Gerbers' partnership was a critical step in reforming the entire Stewart Group. So, Jasper had a plan B as well.

Who would have thought, in just a matter of days, Summer had secured the deal? Good. Very good. She truly was my daughter.

In that instant, Jasper's face bloomed with a smile, radiant as spring flowers. Without hesitation, he reached for the phone and dialed the internal line to the PR department.

"Release the announcement immediately," he ordered. "Tell everyone that Stewart Group is welcoming Marc Gerbers to our mall. I want the entire Havenbrook to know that it was the Stewart Mall who brought Marc Gerbers in."

Jasper only turned back to Harvey after the call.

"Harvey, your sister has delivered an outstanding achievement for Stewart Group. That's why I've decided to honor my word and promote her."

Harvey's eyes were bloodshot as he glared at Summer, his gaze sharp as knives.

"I don't agree!"

Summer tugged at the corner of her lips, letting out a mocking laugh.

"Harvey, the world of adults doesn't revolve around you. It doesn't mean anything, whether you agree with

it or not."

Her words made Harvey's neck stiffen in fury veins huling as his face flushed ccarlet

Competing for the Crown

Finished you've got the nerve and are so ambitious to want shares? And you even dare to fight for the Director's seat!"

Once upon a time, such words would have stabbed Summer straight through the heart. Now? She only found them laughable.

Harvey had not changed one bit. He had always treated her like an enemy.

When she first came back to the Stewart family, she had been thrilled to learn she had an older brother. In dramas, big brothers always protected their little sisters. And Harvey?

Oh, he protected someone all right. He protected Margaret.

To him, Summer had always been an invader, someone who didn't belong. He harbored nothing but hostility.

She remembered once, she and Su Margaret had argued over an item that was clearly Summer's, but Margaret had taken a liking to it. When Summer refused to hand it over, Margaret had burst into tears.

Harvey had immediately rushed over to shield Margaret, glaring at Summer like he wished he could kill her. Without hesitation, he had used his strength to shove her violently to the ground.

The scar on Summer's back now was carried from that day.

Summer's gaze turned cold at the memory.

"Ambitious," she said evenly, "isn't an insult. It just means I have the ability to back it up. Doesn't it?"

She took a slow step forward, her voice cutting like a blade. "You were out expanding Stewart Group's business these past two years, sure. But as far as I know, you spent just as much time in every bar in the city. And wasn't there someone named Milly? A hostess who clung to you, crying for you to take responsibility?"

For a split second, shock flashed in Harvey's eyes.

How did she know about Milly?

Before he came back to Havenbrook, he had already given Milly hush money to pay for her abortion and made sure she disappeared.

Summer investigated me?

A storm brewed in Harvey's gaze, the veins on his forehead standing out like ropes. His eyes reddened with rage, burning with humiliation and fury.

"Summer, stop spouting nonsense!" he roared. He turned abruptly to their father. "Father! Look at her! She's completely out of control! She already has thirty percent of the shares-Stewart Group will fall straight into her hands if you die!" Jasper's expression darkened in an instant. He was not dead yet, and his son was already cursing him to the grave. His voice was sharp, slicing through the tension like a blade.

"I'm not dead yet, and here you are, fighting in front of me like vultures. If I really were gone, the Stewart

Competing for the Crown

Summer, however, met his glare head-on, her expression calm and unyielding.

Finished

Jasper sank into thought. With Summer and Harvey now holding the same position, it was inevitable they would refuse to back down to each other.

Why not let them compete? Let the snipe and the clam fight it out, then I, the fisherman, would reap the benefit.

"Harvey," Japser said slowly, "if you're unconvinced, then compete with your sister. The two of you hold equal positions, after all. Over the next quarter, I'll be watching both of your performances closely. Whoever manages their mall better and brings in the best numbers will get the vice president seat.'

As soon as the words left his mouth, Summer and Harvey both fell into silent calculation.

Jasper saw the shift in their eyes and allowed himself a small, satisfied nod. The simmering anger that had clouded his chest finally eased a little.

At least they were listening now.

He picked up the teacup in front of him and took a slow, measured sip.

Chapter 92

Marc Gerbers: The Turning Point

Finished

"Enough of this," Jasper said at last. "Let's talk about something pleasant. Next week is Summer's and Margaret's birthday. It's rare for Harvey to be home as well. I expect the Stewart family to be harmonious for once."

The news that Marc Gerbers was officially moving into Stewart Mall swept across Havenbrook like wildfire. Everyone was stunned.

How had the Stewart Group pulled this off, and so quietly? What had they done to earn this? What on earth had possessed Marc Gerbers's principal to agree to such a deal?

No one was more shocked than the Smith Group.

Inside the chairman's office, Diana sat rigid in the chair of authority, her expression unreadable.

Bryson stood nearby, hesitating, stealing a glance in her direction as if weighing whether to speak.

Diana's money and resources were the reasons why Bryson was able to build wonders when starting Smith Group.

Over the years, Diana had earned her reputation. Ruthless. Controlling. Uncompromising. Though Bryson held the title of chairman of the Smith Group, everyone in the company knew exactly who held the real power. It was Diana.

After the subordinate finished his report, Bryson waved him away with a flick of his hand. He stood still for a moment, watching his wife lost in thought, then cautiously stepped forward.

Placing a tentative hand on Diana's shoulder, Bryson softened his voice, comforting her as if afraid to provoke a storm. “Diana, things in the business world are always unpredictable. This time, it's Marc Gerbers who lacked vision. They didn't choose us, Smith family, but it's fine; there's always next time..."

Diana's sharp voice cut him off. "Next time? You think there's going to be a next time?!"

She shook his hand off her shoulder, rising to her feet with a cold, sweeping glance toward Bryson, her eyes dark and icy. "This is the repayment I get for giving your bastard daughter, Peyton, a chance? You insisted she had Trevor behind her. That he was her powerful backer. You begged me to give her a shot, and I, out of rare mercy, agreed to listen to you. And what happened? That little slut is useless! Marc Gerber still ended up with the Smith Group.”

Bryson felt cold sweat trickle down his back. He truly had not expected Peyton to fail at. After all, he had heard plenty about Trevor's favoritism toward her over the past two years. The man had even gone so far as to arrange a heart transplant for her not long ago. It was something he, as her biological father, had

not even done.

Men. They were all the same.

Bryson had been certain Trevor was head over heels for Peyton. But in the end, out of nowhere, the Graham Group stepped in, seized the Marc Gerber partnership, and handed it neatly to the Smith Group.

Bryson lowered his voice even further, trying his best to pacify Diana's fury.

whole plan was overturned. It wasn't something Peyton could control."

"No? Then I'll blame it on you." Diana's gaze was cold as frost.

How did it turn into my fault again? Bryson felt a chill shoot down his spine.

But he did not dare to speak. To argue with Diana when she was furious was purely suicidal.

Diana's expression darkened as she sank back into thought. "Why would Fraser get involved in this?" she murmured.

First, the Graham Group had invested eighty billion dollars into the Smith Group. And now, they had gifted them this golden opportunity with Marc Gerber.

It seemed like this all traced back to Summer. The true daughter of the Smith

family, who had been found and brought home after twenty years.

A man would not go out of his way to help a woman for no reason. It looked like

she needed to have a proper chat with Madam Graham.

Diana grabbed her Hemiic bag with an icy expression, ready to leave. "Where are you going, darling?" Bryson hurried after her, his tone laced with

unease.

Diana shot him a sidelong glance, sharp as a blade. "Don't worry about me. I need to vent my anger properly right now. Otherwise, you can spend the night kneeling at the door."

Meanwhile.

Peyton had also caught wind of the news that Marc Gerber was moving into Smith Group's mall.

Just last time, she had snapped a few photos of Summer and Fraser together and sent them straight to Trevor. But he never replied.

Afterward, she sent a flurry of carefully worded messages, pretending to comfort him, acting considerate and gentle. Still, silence.

Peyton thought Trevor would turn cold toward Summer because of this.

But still, he had helped Summer anyway. Even after catching her 'cheating,' he still chose to help that

woman.

What did Summer have that I didn't?! Why was Trevor so obsessed with her?!

Peyton's chest heaved with fury, rage bubbling hot beneath her skin. She felt like she could not even breathe. She could not stop herself. She had to confront Trevor. She had to ask him why.

Peyton had barely stepped out the door, and she found herself face-to-face with Diana, who stood waiting in the doorway, radiating cold fury. Behind her were two tall, broad-shouldered bodyguards.

Peyton frowned, a flicker of guilt flashing in her heart. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice tight.

Before she could react, Diana raised her hand and delivered a slap to her face. Quick. Sharp. Merciless.

Diana let out a cold snort. "What am I doing here? I thought you had some real ability. Thought maybe you could win something for the Smith family. But it turns out, the daughter of a mistress is worse than a worm. You really disappointed

 

Chapter 93

More Than Just a Thank You

Peyton held her burning check, the sting spreading like wildfire under her palm.

This wretched woman... She actually dared to hit me.

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Ever since Peyton returned to Havenbrook and became the woman Trevor cherished and held in the palm of his hand, no one had dared treat her like this. No one!

She had an urge to lunge forward and slap back. But just as she took a step, the two towering bodyguards behind Diana shifted, their imposing frames blocked her path, and they stared at her fiercely, daring her to

try.

Peyton's courage crumbled. She took two steps back, her spine stiff, forcing herself to keep some shred of dignity. She lifted her chin, her voice brittle with defiance. "I never agreed to do this for you! Marc Gerber moving into the Smith Mall has nothing to do with me!"

Diana had come here for one reason only, which was to vent her rage. Wasting even a single extra word on this eyesore of an illegitimate daughter would be beneath her.

"You, worthless little wretch," Diana spat coldly. "Your mother should've thrown you into the river the day you were born." Then, without so much as a glance, she barked her next order.

"What are you standing there for? Teach her a lesson."

The two towering bodyguards moved at once, their muscular legs carrying them steadily toward Peyton.

Seeing them approach, Peyton's face drained of all color. She stumbled back, arms crossing tightly over her chest as though she could shield herself.

"What do you think you're doing?! Diana, you can't do this to me! I'm still... I'm still Bryson's daughter!"

One of the bodyguards gave her a cold, expressionless look. "Sorry about this, Miss Peyton."

The apology was barely out of his mouth before his boot slammed into her stomach with brutal force.

"Ah!" The impact sent Peyton flying like a rag doll. She crashed hard against the wall with a sickening thud before crumpling to the ground. A bright splash of blood bloomed against the marble floor as it spilled from her lips.

Diana stood there watching, her gaze detached, cold as winter frost. She didn't even bat an eye.

This was the fate of anyone who dared to stand against her.

"Don't let me see your face again," she said, her voice laced with chilling finality.

With that, she turned on her heel, her high heels clicking crisply as she climbed into the waiting Ressug- Resemog.

Once seated, she pulled out her luxurious phone and made a call. Her tone shifted immediately from cold arrogance to respectful warmth. "Hello, this is Diana from the Smith Group. I was hoping to arrange a meeting with Madam Graham. Thank you for your time."

burned with scaring pain, every breath a knife to her ribs. Her fingers dug into her palm, her nails cutting deep as ice filled her gaze.

If not for Summer, she thought through clenched teeth, Diana would have been begging me for mercy today.

"Sumuner, I'll make you regret this."

Peyton fumbled for her phone as her hands shook violently.

"Josh," her voice was hoarse but filled with desperate determination. "Can you... help me one last time?"

In the coffee shop, Summer sat quietly in a corner, her head slightly lowered as she stirred the dark liquid in the porcelain cup before her. The black coffee swirled gently under the delicate touch of her slender fingers.

Soft sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows, casting a warm, hazy glow over her porcelain-like profile. It was as if a sheer veil of light had settled on her skin, outlining the delicate contours of her face with ethereal softness.

Her long, softly curled hair framed her features, and her bright, clear eyes, paired with lips like freshly fallen snow, gave her an air of serene elegance. The faint coolness of her presence drew more than a few lingering glances from those around her.

Just then, the door of the café was pushed open with a soft creak. Another woman stepped inside, her entrance graceful yet unhurried.

Yvette wore a sleek, black gown dress that swept all the way to her ankles. A pair of oversized sunglasses covered nearly half her face, concealing most of her expression. She paused at the entrance, her gaze sweeping the café in a cursory glance before settling on the corner where Summer sat. Without hesitation, she made her over.

way

Yvette sank casually into the chair opposite and tossed an exquisitely wrapped gift box onto the table. "The thing you wanted. I've got it for you at the auction in France. I just got off the plane, and you're already dragging me out here. What's the rush?"

Summer took the box with both hands, a gentle smile blooming on her face. "Thank you so much, darling."

Yvette narrowed her eyes, watching Summer's serene, almost radiant expression. There was a soft glimmer in Summer's eyes, and when she smiled, her whole face seemed to light up.

With a click of her tongue, Yvetter leaned back. "Alright, spill it. Who's the guy this time?"

Summer's fingers paused just as she was about to open the box. "Giving someone a gift doesn't mean I'm in love," she replied.

She had spotted this luxury watch in a magazine, and she thought it suited Fraser perfectly. Knowing it was going to be auctioned in France and that Yvette happened to be filming there, she had asked her to help bid for it.

Yvette snorted. "I don't know about other people, but you? Please. Back when you were with that scumbag, I was basically your errand girl."

Yvette picked up Summer's coffee and took a casual sip. "I'm your best friend, not your love rival. Why are you acting all secretive?"

Summer gave a helpless smile. It wasn't that she was hiding anything. Her relationship with Fraser was still uncertain. One moment they could be something more, and the next, it might all fall apart. There was no point in making a big deal out of it.

But Yvette truly was her closest friend, and there was no reason to hide it from

her.

"It's Fraser," Summer finally confessed in a quiet voice.

The moment the name left her lips, Yvette nearly spat out the coffee she was sipping. She coughed once, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief. "You mean Fraser Graham?" she exclaimed. "You two are really together?!"

Summer gave a small nod.

Yvette's emotions swirled in an instant. She was genuinely happy for Summer, but deep down, there was a trace of concern she could not quite suppress.

Chapter 94

The Woman He Likes

Was she happy? Of course. Summer had finally opened her heart to a new relationship.

Finished

But was she worried? Without a doubt. Summer was the kind of foolish woman who loved with her whole heart and soul, utterly devoted once she gave her feelings away,

Yvette sighed, her tone unusually serious. "Summer, Fraser isn't just any man. He's the bossman of the Graham family. Do you have any idea how many women in Havenbrook are dying to climb into his bed? If it's just a fling, then fine, enjoy yourself. After all, if you manage to sleep with a man like Fraser, it's not like you're getting the short end of the stick. But precisely because of that, you've got to protect your heart. Otherwise, the day you two break up, you'll cry yourself to death"

"It won't happen," Summer said softly. She shook her head slowly, tightening her grip around the gift box as if to steady herself.

It should not happen... Right?

Yvette shot her a glance and snorted, "It better not. You're not like me, you know. I'm the type who can let go easily."

Summer could not help but laugh. "And how do you manage that?"

Yvette lifted her chin proudly. "Because I've always known how beautiful a forest can be. I'd never let myself fall for just one tree.”

Originally, Summer had planned to give Fraser the gift as soon as she got it. But after Yvette's kind reminder, she hesitated.

On her drive home, she tapped the button on her car's radio, hoping to break the unsettling silence in the

vehicle.

And then, suddenly, a familiar, lazy male voice drifted from the speakers. Her hand froze in place.

It was Fraser. He was doing an interview. He was steady, confident, and composed as he laid out the future strategy for the Graham Group.

His voice was casual yet captivating, with a faintly languid tone that made Summer's ears itch.

As the interview progressed, the reporter asked, "Mr. Graham, before we wrap up, may I be bold and ask a personal question?"

Fraser gave a nonchalant hum.

The reporter chuckled. "In your office, there's a photo on your desk. A little girl and

a dog. Could she be . your childhood sweetheart?"

On the other end of the radio, there was a sudden silence. A long one.

Summer's grip tightened on the steering wheel as the stillness stretched. Her heart was pounding as if it already knew the answer.

Chapter 94 The Woman He Likes

After what felt like an eternity, his deep, magnetic voice returned.

"She's not my childhood sweetheart, Fraser said quietly. "But she's the woman I like:

The words had barely fallen when Summer froze in place. Her mind went blank.

Finished

It was not until a massive truck barreled toward her that Summier snapped back

to reality. With a gap, the slammed her foot on the brake pedal.

But it was too late.

The harsh screech of tires ripping against asphalt filled the air, immediately followed by a sickening crash as metal collided with metal. The impact threw Summer forward with brutal force, slamming her against the steering wheel.

At that critical moment, the airbag burst open like a flower blooming in an instant, cushioning her and holding her tightly in its protective embrace.

It was a long while before Summer finally lifted her head, dazed. A searing pain radiated from her forehead, and her mind swirled in dizzy confusion. Sharp, stabbing aches pulsed through her body with every breath

she took

Outside the car window, a large, burly man with a shaved head was pounding aggressively on the glass.

Summer took a deep breath, her fingers trembling as she touched her swollen forehead. With effort, she unfastened her seatbelt, pushed open the door, and stepped out of the car.

The truck driver was livid, his face twisted in anger as he stormed over. "What the hell are you doing?! Do you even know how to drive?!"

Summer forced herself to stay calm, swallowing down the pain clawing at her insides. I'm sorry. It was my fault."

The bald man's expression shifted the moment he got a good look at her. A beautiful woman. His gaze flicked to the pristine white Millénaire she had been driving, calculating. And then his lips curled into a sleazy smirk.

"Pretty girl, if saying sorry was enough, why would we need the police?"

Summer followed his gaze, glancing at the scene of the crash.

It was a remote road, isolated. Her Millénaire was a mess. The front end was crushed, the sleek lines bent out of shape. The man's truck, however, seemed practically untouched. He stood there, solid as a ro scratch on him.

ot a

By the rules of the road, Summer had the right of way. She was going straight, but the truck had swerved out of nowhere, cutting her off with a sudden turn. According to traffic laws, turning vehicles were supposed to yield to those going straight.

Still, Summer was not entirely blameless. She had been distracted and had not noticed the danger in time to slow down. If this went to the police, it was not clear who would bear the greater fault.

But now that her mind was clearer, she stayed composed. "What do you want?" she asked evenly.

The Woman He Likes

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This woman was dressed in an elegant pale mauve Couture Charade dress, which alone probably cost tens of thousands dollars. And the Millénaire she was driving? Easily worth over seven hundred thousand dollars.

The bald man thought he had stumbled upon an easy mark and wasted no time naming his price.

"I'm not feeling so great right now," he said with an exaggerated groan, patting his chest. "And there was cargo in my truck. Because of you, I can't deliver it on time. That's a loss. Then there's the injury, the stress you've caused me..." He clicked his tongue. "You need to compensate me. At least 27 thousand dollars

Summer stared at him like he had just told her the sky was green.

This man was not injured in the slightest. His truck was practically intact. Even if she generously calculated his day's lost wages, it would not come close to two hundred thousand dollars. And yet here he was, trying to extort her for an outrageous sum.

27 thousand was not a problem for Summer.

 

Chapter 95

Wrath in a Tailored Suit

But being so blatantly extorted, Summer was no fool.

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"You say you're not feeling well? I'm injured too. How about we both go to the hospital for a full check-up? As for all those random fees, if you don't want to settle this privately, we'll call the police and let them decide."

The bald truck driver's face darkened immediately.

He had not expected this delicate-looking woman to actually have a brain. If the police got involved, it was very possible he would be the one paying compensation in the end.

His face turned an ugly shade of red, his fury boiling over. He raised his voice, roaring, "So you're saying you're not paying! I'm warning you, you hit my truck today. If you don't hand over the money, you're not going anywhere! And if you dare call the cops, I'll kill you right now!"

As he spoke, he flexed his thick, bare arms in front of her, showing off sinewy muscles marked with ugly scars, the threat clear in his eyes.

Just then, Summer's phone rang. She instinctively took a step back and answered

it.

On the other end of the phone, there was a man's lazy, magnetic voice. He heard the rage and aggression in the truck driver's shouts over the phone. His tone suddenly deepened, no longer as casual as usual. "Summer, what's going on?"

Summer pressed her lips together tightly, her gaze falling on the bald man's overly developed arms.

"I... accidentally got into a car accident," she said softly.

The bald man noticed her on the phone, his eyes widening with hostility.

"Even if you call for backup, it's useless! You should ask around who I am in the trucking world. One word from me. Pay up now, or I won't show mercy just because you're pretty!"

"Send me your location," the man on the phone said, his voice suddenly chilling to the bone.

"Bloomfield Lane."

Summer thought she heard the faint sound of hurried footsteps over the line. "Summer," Fraser's voice lowered a notch more, steady and reassuring, "get back in the car. Don't s word to him until I get there. And... don't be afraid."

Summer had been holding herself together through sheer willpower, ignoring the pain in her body and the trucker's raw threats. But hearing him say, 'Don't be afraid,' made her chest tighten, and her eyelashes fluttered faintly.

In the next second, taking advantage of the bald man's momentary distraction, she quickly opened the car door, slipped inside, and slammed it shut, locking it without hesitation.

The truck driver had not expected her to pull such a move. His face twisted with rage.

Wrath in a Tailored Suit

Summer rested her head on her arm, her mind buzzing, her cars ringing.

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The man's pounding fists shook the car with each blow, the frame trembling beneath his rage. At this much strength, if Fraser did not arrive soon, the windows would shatter from the force.

Suddenly, like a razor of wind cutting through the day, a Vertex roared down the road at breakneck speed. With an ear-splitting screech, the car braked hard and stopped dead at the curb.

The door swung open, and a man stepped out. His long legs encased in tailored trousers emerged first, followed by a tall, lean figure that radiated cold restraint and authority.

Under the dim streetlights, he walked forward with slow, deliberate steps, the weight of his presence pressing down like an oncoming storm.

The bald trucker froze at the sight of him. His raised hand hung suspended in the air, as if someone had nailed it there.

Fraser's black eyes gleamed, two shards of obsidian flashing with an icy chill. Without breaking stride, he reached out, seized the man's wrist, and twisted.

Just a brutal, precise movement. The bald man's arm snapped backward at an unnatural angle.

Before the man could even register the pain, his entire body was wrenched up and slammed to the ground like a rag doll. The sharp, unmistakable sound of bone breaking split the silence.

"Ahhh! My arm! You broke my arm! You're trying to kill me!" The bald man writhed on the asphalt, his face contorted with agony, howling like a beast in a trap.

Fraser did not spare him a glance. He bent down instead, tapping gently on Summer's window.

When Summer saw it was Fraser, her vision blurred for a moment. The string she'd been holding taut in her mind finally snapped loose.

She fumbled to open the door, but the second her foot touched the ground, her legs gave out.

Before she could fall, strong hands caught her, steadying her as easily as if she weighed nothing. His palms were warm, his hold firm, drawing her frozen body into the heat of his embrace.

His voice, low and rough, vibrated in her ear. "What happened to you?"

On the ground, the bald truck driver forced himself upright, one hand cradling his broken arm. His eyes burned with hate. "Who the hell are you? You broke my arm, you son of a bitch! I'll kill you for this!"

Fraser's gaze snapped to him, sharp and cold as a blade.

The bald man's feet locked into place. He couldn't move. He stood nearly two meters tall, a mountain of

muscle.

But facing Fraser, who was dressed in nothing more than a crisp shirt and tailored pants, he felt himself shrinking, suffocated by an invisible force.

Fraser's brow furrowed as his eyes fell on the red mark swelling on Summer's forehead.

Wrath in a Tailored Suit

Finished

The bald man's mouth snapped shut. Terror swirled with his anger, his body trembling uncontrollably. His gaze flickered toward the Vertex parked by the curb, which cost tens of millions.

 

Chapter 96

The bald man thought to himself, This must be some rich second-generation heir from a major corporation. These wealthy types feared nothing more than a scandal hitting the headlines.

Emboldened, the bald man said, "Sir, it was your woman who hit my car first. I asked her to pay me 27 thousand dollars, but she refused. Now you've broken my hand, and I haven't done anything wrong. Is there no law in Havenbrook?"

"If you don't want this to blow up, you need to pay me 140 thousand dollars this time." The bald man said.

Fraser's gaze sharpened, his voice icy as he replied, "140 thousand dollars? You think you're worth that? My woman was frightened because of you. The compensation for her mental distress is 60 thousand dollars."

The bald man's face paled at the mention of 690 thousand dollars. For some reason, he had a sinking feeling this man meant every word.

The bald man thought to himself, Good lord, that's 690 thousand dollars! I couldn't earn that in a lifetime driving trucks.

Just then, several police cars

arrived, sirens blaring, and pulled up along the roadside. A dozen officers in crisp uniforms stepped out efficiently. Leading them was Chief Larry, the head of Havenbrook's police department. It was as if a major incident had occurred.

Mr. Larry hurried over and, upon seeing Fraser, bowed respectfully. "Mr. Graham, we apologize for the delay. We came as fast as we could after your call." Please don't hold it against us, he thought.

Fraser's expression remained impassive. "Handle this," he said.

With that, he bent down, slipped his arms under Summer's knees, and lifted her up in front of everyone. Caught off guard, Summer felt herself enveloped by his strong presence. Her head spun, the dizziness growing heavier, and she was too weak to protest, leaning against him limply.

The officers, summoned for what they assumed was a serious traffic accident, were surprised to find a minor incident with no casualties. Yet, seeing Mr. Larry defer to this nonchalant man, they knew he was someone of great importance. Clearly, he cared deeply for the woman in his arms.

Mr. Larry, accustomed to high-stakes situations, stayed composed. "Of course, of course. I'll take care of everything properly."

the car, rolled down the window

Fraser gently placed Summer in the passenger seat, walked around to the driver's side, and before starting Leaning on his elbow, he fixed the bald man with a piercing gaze. "I won't accept a settlement," he declared. With that, he floored the accelerator, and the car sped off, leavi

a cloud of exhaust and stunned onlookers.

ehind

Fraser took Summer to the Graham family's private hospital, where she was immediately admitted to a VIP room. The dean personally oversaw her CT scan and full-body examination.

Fraser leaned against the corridor wall, smoking. Half the cigarette had burned away, smoke curling upward, filling the hallway with its scent. Dr. Charles, seeing Fraser with a woman for the first time, dared not slack off. After the examination, he reported promptly, "Ms. Stewart is fine, just a mild concussion. She'll

Summer lay half-reclined on the bed, medicated and feeling somewhat better. Her senses sharpened, and her mind cleared. From the accident scene to the hospital, Fraser had carried her the entire way. The thought of all those people watching made her cheeks flush. No wonder the nurses and doctors had given her those knowing looks.

Just then, the door opened, and a tall figure entered. Fraser's footsteps echoed distinctly in the quiet room, each step seemingly resonating with her heartbeat. His handsome face was cool and composed, masking some suppressed emotion. His dark eyes fixed on her. "Are you an idiot? What were you daydreaming about while driving?"

Summer stiffened at his words. It was her first car accident, and then she'd been threatened by that menacing bald man. Now, instead of comfort, he was scolding her with a hint of coldness. If it weren't for that interview, she wouldn't have been distracted. Without that distraction, none of this would have happened.

The grievances she'd bottled up all evening twisted inside her like vines. Her throat tightened, and her eyes reddened, but she bit her lip. "I know I troubled you today. Sorry, Mr. Graham. It won't happen again."

 

Chapter 97

Fraser frowned. He thought to himself, my tone hadn't been harsh, yet she acted as if she wanted to cut all ties with me. I was just trying to remind her to be careful while driving. This time, luckily, she was unharmed. But what about next time?

When he heard about the accident over the phone, a chill had gripped him. For the first time, worry, fear, and anxiety flooded him like a tidal wave, suffocating him. He'd lost count of how many red lights he'd run on the way. Only when he saw her safe in the car did his heart, teetering on a knife's edge, finally settle. Fraser sighed, his voice softening. "Why are you crying? It's not like I hit you."

Summer pursed her lips stubbornly. "Which eye of yours saw me crying?" Her eyes were just red! There were no tears! She wasn't crying. This was nothing compared to the hardships she'd faced growing up.

Fraser's lips curved into a helpless smile. He reached out and pinched her earlobe. Summer's earlobe was soft and delicate, with a slight coolness. "Both eyes saw it. People might think I'm bullying you."

Summer accused him angrily, "You are bullying me."

Fraser's voice was low and magnetic, laced with indulgence as he coaxed her. "Ms. Stewart, you wanted 1 billion in investment, and I approved it immediately. You wanted the Marloux contract, and I delivered it right away. Where else can you find such an obedient man?"

Summer thought to herself, Obedient? There was no such thing as an obedient man. Every favor came with strings attached.

Summer was speechless, her tone tinged with resentment. "Yet you still scold me."

Fraser thought to himself, Scold her? Women's logic was truly baffling.

Fraser found it amusing. He leaned down, placing his hands on either side of her on the bed, trapping her in his embrace. His dark eyes bored into hers. "I'm guilty as charged. Punish me however you like."

The man's handsome face was inches away, a faint smile playing on his lips, his bright eyes reflecting her image. His gaze was deep, dark, and intense, drawing her in like a vortex. Summer turned her face away, Huffing, "How dare I punish Mr. Graham?"

Fraser's thin lips brushed her cheek, then he nibbled her earlobe, murmuring ambiguously, "If you won't punish me, I'll punish myself. I'll bathe you tonight and sleep with you."

"..." Summer was speechless.

Was this punishing him or her? Once again, she'd fallen into his trap. His warm breath tickled her ea sending tingles through her. She pushed against his chest, her body heating up, feeling awkward and ignoring him.

Fraser reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and careful. "What were you thinking about at that moment?"

From the surveillance footage Mr. Larry sent, the truck driver had sped through the turn without slowing down. Summer had also been momentarily distracted while driving. According to traffic laws, both parties were at fault. But Summer's Momentum was badly dented, and she was more injured than the truck driver.

Finished

Summer pressed her lips together. She'd been distracted because she heard Fraser's voice on the radio saying, "The person I've always liked."

She already knew that, didn't she? Otherwise, why would someone as free- spirited and untamed as Fraser keep an old photo on his desk?

Summer realized her feelings had shifted. This change frightened her deep down. She feared falling into another relationship, losing control, and getting hurt again. Maybe Yvette was right, keep it physical, no strings attached. That kind of relationship was liberating.

She looked up at the man before her. His sharp, short hair framed a stunningly handsome face, with chiseled features, arched brows, and narrow, phoenix-like eyes with single eyelids, the corners upturned, exuding an almost demonic allure. It was hard not to be captivated.

"Today, I originally wanted to give you a gift." Summer said.

Fraser's dark, arrow eyes lit up, his gaze intense on her fair face. His voice was husky and low. "Why the sudden urge to give me a gift?"

 

Chapter 98

"The Marloux brand has entered Stewart Mall, and I've been promoted to director, so I wanted to thank you." Summer said with appreciation.

Fraser's eyes dimmed slightly. He'd hoped she was falling for his charm. Apparently, he was overthinking it. This wasn't his style, since when did Fraser need to beg for someone's affection?

He shifted, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his embrace, resting his head on her hair. "Ms. Stewart, you're impressive."

The man's embrace was warm and secure, his cool, woody scent enveloping her.

Summer thought, Just for tonight, I'll allow myself to indulge.

She nestled in his arms, her head against his chest. Listening to his steady, powerful heartbeat, it seemed to resonate in her own heart.

Suddenly, she felt the urge to share something she'd never told anyone. "Fraser, I wasn't always this. ambitious. I'm sure you've heard, I was only brought back to the Stewart family a few years ago. My foster

mother... wasn't kind to me I thought returning would heal all my grievances."

A bitter smile flickered across Summer's face, quickly vanishing. "But the Stewart family had no place for me anymore. So... I had to carve out my own space."

The arms around her waist tightened. Summer spoke simply, but Fraser heard the determination and sorrow in her voice. His voice tightened. "Ms. Stewart, would you like to find your place with me?" With that, he took her hand and placed it over his heart, gazing down at her intently.

Summer glanced at him and patted his chest. "A man's heart is like glass. If I enter, I'll just get cut by the shards."

"Is that so?" Fraser's gaze darkened, his phoenix eyes narrowing. "How would you know if you don't try?"

Summer's heart skipped a beat. "Sigh, you're interrupting me. Someone like you, born into a top-tier family with everything at your fingertips, how could you understand my situation?"

Fraser had been given the best education and resources from birth, but also the coldest family. environment. Such a gilded cage produced heirs who were ruthless, cold-hearted, and merciless. If not for that little girl from his childhood, he might have become even more arrogant, perhaps even heartless.

Suddenly, Summer heard Fraser's low, seductive voice: "Sleep with me once, and I'll give you the entire Stewart Group. How about that?"

Summer was stunned. He said it as casually as offering a piece of jewelry. She knew it was a trivial matter for him, but her heart softened. Expecting her to shy away, Fraser was surprised when Summer wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down, and kissed him fiercely. For the first time, she took the initiative. Havenbrook hosted a prestigious financial summit, attended by the city's most powerful corporations, with Larson Group and Graham Group at the forefront. Trevor was surrounded by executives, all eager to flatter him. He knew Fraser would be there, so he'd come prepared.

A Heartfelt Confession

and a pocket square matching his shirt. From head to toe, he exuded commanding nobility.

Finished

Surrounded by the summit's chairman and a group of experts, he strolled in with a casual yet domineering presence. Trevor's dark eyes flashed with venom at the sight of him. That phone call had made him feel utterly humiliated.

Trevor thought to himself, Summer knew Graham Group was my biggest rival, yet she'd deliberately gotten involved with Fraser to spite me. And Fraser, by pursuing Summer, was clearly provoking me. I could tolerate business rivalries, but not when it came to my woman.

Trevor's fists clenched at his sides. It had been a long time since he'd fought, but if not for the summit, he'd challenge Fraser to a duel right there.

The executives who had been fawning over Trevor now drifted toward Fraser. In business, loyalty was fleeting; everyone followed the money. Previously, Larson Group had dominated the financial sector, but lately, Graham Group had been snatching their projects.

 

Chapter 99

Everyone was watching to see how this rivalry would unfold. Fresh from abroad, Fraser had little regard for Havenbrook's social niceties. He ignored the sycophants, his noble gaze barely acknowledging them. Spotting Trevor standing alone, he smirked contemptuously.

As the summit forum began, everyone took their seats. The organizers, lacking tact, had placed Trevor and Fraser together. A finance reporter, sensing a rare opportunity, raised his camera to capture the two powerful men side by side but quickly lowered it under their icy stares and slunk away.

Trevor's voice was low and menacing. "To humiliate me, Fraser, you went after my woman. That's a low

blow."

Fraser scoffed, his tone laced with mockery. "Mr. Larson, you're not worth the trouble."

Trevor's veins bulged on the hand resting on the chair. "Summer isn't a woman to be toyed with. Name your terms, otherwise, it won't look good for you, Mr. Graham, to be seen wearing my worn shoes."

Fraser's eyes turned cold, his brows furrowing, a storm brewing in his gaze. "Mr. Larson, comparing the woman who loved you for five years to a pair of shoes? You're truly scum."

Trevor hadn't meant to say that, but the thought of Summer with Fraser drove him mad. "Fraser, you don't love her. If you want a woman to play with, Havenbrook has plenty. Why bother with her?"

Fraser sneered. "Since when are you the expert on my feelings? How do you know I don't love her?"

Trevor was taken aback. He met Fraser's enigmatic yet meaningful gaze, momentarily speechless. He didn't even notice when the summit ended.

Fraser stood, adjusted his suit, and cast a disdainful glance at Trevor. "Let me remind you, Mr. Larson, Summer broke up with you. I don't care about her past relationships. If you didn't cherish her, someone else will."

Trevor, sharp as he was, couldn't miss the clear affection in Fraser's words. For the first time, fear crept into his heart, he might have truly lost something irreplaceable. But even if Fraser liked Summer, she couldn't possibly love him back. Trevor was convinced their five-year relationship was too deep to be forgotten.

Summer spent a few days in the hospital, pampered like an invalid. Fraser even sent a seasoned maid to care for her. One might think she'd suffered a grave illness.

Returning to her ward after a checkup, she saw a man in a white doctor's coat standing at her dooi. Handsome and poised, Xavier gave her a subtle once-over before smiling. "Hello, I'm Xavier Hathaway."

Xavier had heard about Fraser carrying Summer into the hospital that night. It seemed the mighty Fraser had finally fallen. Summer didn't recall meeting him. He continued, "I'm the head of this hospital and... Fraser's childhood friend."

Summer replied, "Hello, I'm Summer Stewart."

"Didn't expect we'd have such a connection. Oh, I forgot to mention, I was at Westhaven too."

Finished

Xavier smiled. “No need to be nervous. Fraser and I grew up together. You're the first woman to appear by his side."

Summer thought to herself, The first? Then who was the girl in the photo on Fraser's desk?

Before she could ask, someone called out "Dr. Xavier" from afar. Xavier crouched slightly. "Well, Summer, let's hang out sometime. Don't tell him I came by."

As he turned to leave, Summer blurted, "Mr. Xavier, about that photo on Fraser's desk of a girl, who is she?"

Xavier thought to himself, It seemed she didn't know the girl was her.

Xavier's smile deepened at her conflicted expression. "Next time, take a closer look at that photo yourself. You'll figure it out."

 

Chapter 100

With that, Xavier left. Summer was bewildered by his sudden visit. She'd been on sick leave from the company, citing discomfort and hospital rest. Unsurprisingly, the news reached the Stewart family, but no one visited. Only Jasper had called. She wasn't disappointed, just used to it.

On her first day back at work after discharge, Julia finally showed up, entering Summer's office. "Summer, I just got back from Locha and heard about your accident. I didn't mean to not visit, any injuries?"

Summer didn't look up from her files. "I'm not dead, if that's what you're asking."

Julia had been whisked away by Margaret for a shopping trip to Locha, upset over Summer's promotion. Only upon returning did she learn about the accident. She suspected Margaret knew and deliberately kept her away, but with Margaret's recent struggles, Julia let it slide.

Unfazed by Summer's coldness, Julia pressed, "Why were you in the Graham family's hospital?”

Summer set down her pen and leaned back. "Is that all you came to ask?"

Flustered by Summer's sharp gaze, Julia coughed. "Your birthday's coming up. I was wondering if you and Margaret could celebrate together, instead of her waiting until the next day. You share the same birthday, after all."

Summer chuckled dryly. "You're overflowing with motherly love for Margaret. For years, you prioritized her birthday for the family's reputation, making me celebrate the day after. You never spoke up for me then."

Julia's face flushed and she thought to herself. Fine, this daughter's been a powder keg lately.

She tested the waters. "I'll invite Trevor to your birthday celebration."

Summer smiled knowingly. "I'll invite my own boyfriend, thanks."

Julia's lips curved into a relieved smile. "Good, good. Mom will make sure it's perfect for you."

Julia thought to herself, So, Summer and Trevor reconciled.

That evening, Summer returned to Skycrest Villa. Since her discharge, Fraser had coaxed her into staying there. On the day he picked her up, she'd assumed they were heading to her apartment at Brookhaven Estates and dozed off in the car. Only when they arrived at Skycrest Villa did she realize.

Fraser had leaned on the car window, fingers to his temple, smirking. "Ms. Stewart, with your alertness, you'd be sold off and still counting the money."

Summer pouted. "Are you planning to sell me, Mr. Graham?"

Fraser ruffled her hair affectionately. "Not yet. When I'm tired of you, I'll fatten you up and sell you for a good price."

Now, in the bedroom, Summer was playing with Pudding.

Hearing the bathroom door open, she turned to see Fraser emerging, a towel wrapped low on his hips. Water droplets slid from his chest to his waist. disappearing into the tantalizing lines of his physique. His

After her hospital stay, Summer had gradually accepted their relationship as a couple. Blushing, she boldly replied, "If you ask like that, then no, I haven't."

Fraser strode over and pulled her into his arms. "Then tonight, you can look and touch to your heart's

content."

The bedside lamp cast a soft glow over the large bed. Pudding, once again, was ushered out. Unhappy, Pudding barked, "Why do they always kick me out mid- play!"

Inside, Summer lay beneath Fraser. Her porcelain skin contrasted with the silky blue sheets, flushed with desire. The teasing had her chest burning.

She let out a soft, breathy moan. "Mmm..."

Fraser propped himself up on one arm, his sculpted muscles on display, and reached into the bedside drawer. He tore open a packet and positioned it carefully.

Summer's face burned with embarrassment. Averting her gaze from the intimate scene, she noticed the drawer was stocked full of similar packets.

Summer's heart skipped a beat, and she thought to herself, So many! How long will these last?