Chapter 257
“I held your birthday party at the Olson Group store because it was on your wish list,” Michael said evenly. “I didn’t expect to run into her there. If that made you uncomfortable—or if you want to reconsider this engagement—I’ll respect your decision.”
His tone was calm. Too calm.
Measured. Controlled. Almost as if he was laying out terms in a business negotiation rather than a relationship.
Lindsay had come prepared to argue.
To question.
To demand reassurance.
But when she heard him speak like that—so rational, so detached—her anger had nowhere to land.
It simply dissolved.
Because the truth was simple: there wasn’t much between them yet.
Not enough history. Not enough depth.
And Michael…
Michael didn’t act like someone who needed her.
That was what made everything harder to hold onto.
By the time the car reached her residence, Lindsay had already forced herself into composure.
“I like you, Michael,” she said gently. “And I’m willing to take this slowly. To build something stable with you.”
A pause.
“But I need trust. Don’t give me a reason to doubt you.”
Her tone was elegant.
Composed.
Almost dignified.
But beneath it, there was a quiet expectation—an opening she was hoping he would fill.
Michael understood it.
And, as expected, he responded in the way she wanted.
“All right,” he said. “I will.”
A brief pause.
“Happy birthday.”
Lindsay’s expression softened slightly.
“Thank you.”
She leaned in first for a light hug.
Michael returned it politely—brief, restrained, careful enough that it barely qualified as contact before he stepped back.
No lingering.
No hesitation.
Just distance, neatly maintained.
After watching his car disappear down the driveway, the warmth on Lindsay’s face vanished instantly.
She turned and walked into the villa.
Inside, the staff was already waiting.
“Have the items arrived?” she asked.
“Yes, Miss Lindsay. They’ve been delivered and are waiting for inspection.”
A faint smile touched her lips—but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Good.”
The villa was bright with crystal chandeliers, light scattering across marble floors in sharp, expensive fragments.
Winnie stood near the window.
Still in her store uniform.
Still composed.
Beside her sat two massive entrance mascots—custom-designed, limited-edition pieces, each nearly her height. Playful in appearance, absurd in scale, and undeniably extravagant.
Each one cost more than most people earned in years.
And Lindsay had ordered them on impulse.
Specifically requesting Winnie to deliver them personally.
Olson Group policy required in-person verification for high-value goods. Which meant Winnie had no choice but to wait until the customer returned.
And now she had.
When Lindsay entered, Winnie immediately stepped forward, holding the invoice.
“Miss Starr, your items have been delivered,” she said professionally. “Please inspect them and sign here if everything is correct.”
“Winnie,” Lindsay said lightly.
She smiled.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Winnie paused for a fraction of a second.
It was the first time Lindsay had addressed her directly—and by name.
Her gaze sharpened subtly.
So she did know.
Either Michael had told her… or Veronica had been very thorough.
Earlier, Winnie had seen Michael drive Lindsay back.
It had been early.
Which meant Lindsay had cut her birthday celebration short.
Winnie’s thoughts flickered briefly.
Was this intentional?
A calculated move to create inconvenience?
Or simply another layer of whatever game was being played around her?
She dismissed it.
None of it mattered.
If Michael wanted to embarrass her, he wouldn’t need such roundabout methods.
And it was unlikely a woman like Lindsay would rush home from her own birthday party just to sign delivery forms.
Still—
She held the tray steady.
“Please sign if everything is satisfactory,” she repeated evenly.
Lindsay didn’t respond immediately.
Instead, she walked around the two oversized mascots, examining them slowly. Her expression remained calm, but her eyes were unreadable.
Then she turned to the butler.
“Bring me a bottle of good wine,” she said.