Chapter 4: Want to Tear Them Off

Clara casually tossed the throw pillow at Elliot’s face, muttering, "None of your business."

She rose from the sofa, taking her remaining half-glass of lemon soda with her.

Elliot maintained that faint, lingering smile, watching her hemline brush past his casual trousers. He lightly rubbed his slightly itching fingertips.

Clara poured out the soda and noticed that the things on the kitchen island seemed to have been moved. To be precise, they had been tidied up.

The cake plate had been cleared away, and the previously cluttered island was now spotless. She asked casually, "Did you come in to clean my room?"

Elliot didn't answer, just watching her.

Clara walked around the island and opened the fridge, only then realizing the truth.

It must have been Big Brother.

Her previously empty fridge was now packed with all sorts of additive-free snacks, meals, and fresh fruit, vegetables, and milk.

How did she know it was Quentin? Because all her high-sugar, high-additive sodas and drinks had been thrown out.

Clara’s eyebrows knitted together.

Luckily, she had finished her stash of junk food earlier. Otherwise, it would have ended up in the trash bin too.

Elliot’s gaze swept across the full refrigerator and then over the now-calm Clara.

So she knew who had been here.

She wasn't surprised at all; she even tacitly allowed Quentin to enter her room at will.

Clara closed the fridge door and turned to meet Elliot’s scrutinizing gaze. She asked guiltily, "What are you looking at?"

Elliot stood up. "I’m not even allowed to look anymore?"

He walked to the opposite side of the island, propping his hands on the edges. "It’s not like you’re going to draw a line between us."

It was a subtle topic—hard to catch at first listen, but perfectly applicable to Clara, who was currently in a sensitive period regarding the baby swap.

Elliot was the first person brave enough to bring it up directly to her face.

Surprisingly, it didn't trigger any of her defensive emotions. Instead, it made her feel much lighter, as if nothing had changed between them.

Clara pursed her lips. "Why were you secretly following me outside earlier?"

"I wasn't following you," Elliot said matter-of-factly. "I was just escorting that little thing downstairs. If it got bumped or bruised, would you have come out to pick it up?"

Elliot’s voice had a rhythmic lilt, creating a naturally seductive tone. He navigated social circles with ease—a social butterfly of a different sort.

Clara found his reasoning somewhat logical but was still unsatisfied. "But you got me caught."

"My mistake." Elliot tilted his head toward her. "Care to let me make it up to you?"

Clara truly needed an outlet for her frustration. "Then you have to play games with me tonight."

Elliot’s ability to gain fingerprint access to her room relied entirely on his gaming skills. A few years ago, when Clara was obsessed with gaming, they would often play all night.

"Fine," Elliot gestured with his eyes. "Pack your things. I’m taking you somewhere else to play."

An hour later, a black Cullinan quietly slipped out of Cloud Bay.

Clara kept the car windows rolled up, guarding against the Harbor Bay media, but she was surprised to see no flashes or cameras.

She craned her neck and opened the window a crack.

As the night scenery became quieter and more expansive, she rolled the window down completely.

The comfortable night breeze rushed into the car, blowing back Clara’s curled hair. There truly were no media outlets stationed outside Cloud Bay.

"Where did they all go?"

Elliot leaned his elbow on the window frame and said casually, "Maybe they went home for dinner."

Clara didn't believe him for a second. But regardless, having no one to disturb them was definitely a good thing.

Clara cast aside her worries, opened the window to its maximum, and leaned against the side to watch the night view of the island.

The Repulse Bay area was much quieter; the moonlit bay and the neon lights of the distant city were reflected on the water, casting blurred shadows.

In the rearview mirror was a face that was deeply moving at first sight.

Clara felt sentimental for a moment and couldn't help but check the mirror. Discovering that her "sentimental" expression looked quite beautiful, she decided to keep looking sentimental, even though her mood was actually fine.

It wasn't until she saw Elliot driving toward the airport that she remembered to ask, "Where are we going?"

"Velaa." Elliot parked the car, walked around to the other side, and opened the door for Clara.

The Harrison family’s private Gulfstream G700 was waiting on the tarmac nearby.

"Did you tell—" Clara stopped mid-sentence.

She was still angry with her father and mother. If he hadn't told them, then so be it. There was no need to report a vacation.

Elliot knew what she was thinking, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Clara was very direct with her emotions; they were all written on her face.

They arrived at Velaa Island the following morning.

Clara had carefully selected an Ocean Pool Villa, but when she tried to book it, she was told it had been taken ten minutes ago.

Clara felt a bit of regret. Just as she was debating which one to switch to, she turned around and saw Cynthia post a moment on WeChat.

The nine-photo grid featured the very hotel villa she had just missed out on. Below it was a group of girls on a retreat.

They were showering her with praise: "Cynthia is so beautiful! Have fun!" "Where is this? It's gorgeous."

Some of the nicknames looked familiar. Clara remembered—they were the people badmouthing her in the group chat last night. One was even complaining on Cynthia’s behalf about losing the auction to Clara.

Clara didn't care much about those words. She tapped on Cynthia’s chat window.

[Clara: Sister, sister~ Where are you staying? It’s so beautiful.]

[Cynthia: ?]

[Clara: Your taste is so good, just like mine. I really love this villa.]

[Cynthia: Sorry baby, no can do. I let you have the antique seal box; you’ll have to let me have this one.]

Clara hadn't expected Cynthia to see through her so quickly. She didn't hide her thoughts.

[Clara: This villa is so big. Aren't you scared sleeping there alone? Do you want to switch for a slightly smaller one?]

[Cynthia: You're right, I'm so scared. Why don't you come and sleep with me, Clara?]

After being teased, Clara bit her lip and exited the chat.

When she logged back onto the booking site, she saw that the Ocean Villa was suddenly available again.

Clara sat up straight, her eyes lighting up. She immediately asked Elliot to help her book it. She then hugged her phone and sent a flurry of "kiss" emojis to Cynthia.

Cynthia brought up the main event: [Coming to the beach party tomorrow?]

[I’ve organized a hunk showcase. Let’s go clear our heads.]

Clara’s eyes crinkled into a smile. [Then I’ll have to think it over carefully [Kiss.jpg].]

Cynthia narrowed her eyes—what a little seductress.

Clara wasn't teasing her on purpose. After all, being out with her brother made some things a bit inconvenient. However, the second brother was easygoing and fun—not like the eldest, who was so old-fashioned and dogmatic. There was still a chance.

Just as Clara was calculating how to "accidentally" touch the male models, she suddenly heard a voice above her. "What are you chatting about that makes you so happy?"

Clara jumped, instinctively turning her phone face down. She looked up to see Elliot’s face right in front of her.

Elliot looked down, staring at her face-down phone for a long time. He already had an idea of what was going on. "The hotel is booked."

Clara squinted her eyes and acted cute. "Thanks, Elliot."

Elliot asked casually, "Have friends there?"

"Mhm."

"What a coincidence." Elliot mused, "Men or women?"

Clara was very honest. "Cynthia."

"Her." The prominent families in Harbor Bay all socialized with one another. The Liang mansion was right next to Cloud Bay; in a way, they were neighbors.

Hearing it was a woman, Elliot felt a secret wave of relief. "Since your friends are there, you can all play together."

Elliot led her on, "Any activities planned? If not, I can organize a gathering for you. What type do you like..."

"It’s already planned."

Elliot nodded and asked a few more questions. He quickly managed to get the whole story out of the guileless Clara.

However, Clara omitted certain keywords, only implying there would be many people.

Elliot seemed completely unfazed, generously approving of their plans. "Not bad. I like parties with a lot of people too."

"Do you need me to call a few more over?"

"No need," Clara said happily, sensing a green light. "But if you want friends to keep you company, you can call them."

After all, she probably wouldn't have time for him then.

Elliot remained silent, his expression unreadable. His large hand covered his glass as he swirled the wine.

It was a good thing that Clara had reached the age where she liked looking at men. He was a man too. Elliot raised his hand and drained the glass.

The weather was perfect. Clara had changed into a primrose-yellow beach dress on the plane, and Elliot had changed into a beach shirt, leaving the first three buttons casually undone to reveal his smooth collarbones and the lines of his chest and abdominal muscles.

After they landed, a butler met them to take them to their overwater villa. The villa was in a quiet location by the lagoon, ensuring they wouldn't be disturbed.

There were two bedrooms; they took one each.

Clara pushed her luggage into her bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she was greeted by the terrace and the ocean view. The rhythmic waves hitting the shore made her feel lazy.

Clara booked a spa treatment and lay on the bed, checking the news online. After several days of fermenting, the trending topics had halved and were gradually dropping off. Only some trivial items remained; it could be described as a brief calm after the storm.

Clara listlessly scrolled through other meaningless topics. The spa therapist was a Southeast Asian girl whose techniques were very professional. She tried to remain focused on her work but couldn't help but marvel at the extraordinary silkiness, delicacy, and clarity of the skin beneath her hands.

Clara’s beauty belonged to the top tier of Eastern aesthetics. Such looks were soft and shimmering, without aggression; one look and the image melted into the heart, then took root and sprouted everywhere, making one feel restless and unstable.

Clara put down her phone and began thinking about how to have fun tomorrow and which bikini would be appropriate.

Meanwhile, at the top of a skyscraper in Central, Harbor Bay, Quentin stood before a floor-to-ceiling window. In the distance, night had fallen over Victoria Harbour. The brilliant lights flowed like a river, sinking deep into his eyes.

Behind him, his secretary reported the impact of the recent public opinion incident item by item. Among them were several overseas partners wanting to terminate cooperation, which Elliot had authorized.

The thick, ink-black night outside the window was reflected on Quentin’s sharply defined face.

He spoke at the right moment, asking a question he already knew the answer to, "Who authorized it?"

The secretary paused for a moment and repeated the name mechanically. After all, the current overseas market was entirely under Elliot’s negotiation and control. Even if Quentin hadn't heard clearly, he should have known his own brother was in charge.

But Quentin nodded as if he were finding out for the first time. "Fine."

"Assess the losses and submit a report to the Chairman."

The secretary excused himself and left. Quentin wordlessly overlooked the night view of Victoria Harbour for a while, his slender finger lightly turning his pinky ring.

Back at the water villa, Clara was playing games with Elliot when she heard a phone ringing.

Elliot glanced at the caller ID, switched it to silent, and placed it face down on the table.

Clara looked at his actions a couple of times. Soon, Clara’s phone rang too. The caller ID said "Dad."

Elliot stared at Clara’s screen. He grabbed the phone before she could and answered it. "What is it?"

Clara sat nearby, hugging a pillow. Hearing Elliot’s less-than-pleasant tone, she watched him take the call from the living room out to the terrace.

The second brother was someone who could navigate any conversation with anyone with ease; he rarely showed impatience, except in front of Harrison.

And Harrison truly couldn't be considered a qualified father or a good husband. He possessed the cold sobriety of a lifelong businessman, always calculating interests. Even if the sky fell, he would use his mouth to hold it up.

All the brothers had a subtle attitude toward him. Clara always felt that her father was "hard on the outside, soft on the inside," even though she often didn't want to deal with him either.

Clara operated the controller and played a few rounds of single-player games by herself before Elliot returned from the terrace and gave her phone back.

Clara asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing." Elliot sat down. "Let's continue."

On the surface, Elliot seemed fine, but Clara could clearly feel that he was somewhat distracted. Although his phone was on silent, the screen kept lighting up, going dark, and lighting up again.

Clara watched for a while before putting down the controller and standing up. "If you’re busy, go ahead. I’m going back to sleep anyway."

Her tone was cheerful. "Don't be unhappy. Once you finish today, we’ll go to the beach together tomorrow."

Clara stepped off the sofa and casually patted Elliot’s shoulder before leaving the living room for her own bedroom.

Elliot sat on the sofa for a while, looking down at his phone. He was soon laughed out of frustration by the series of messages.

The next day, his flight landed in Harbor Bay at 8:00 AM.

He made several calls to Quentin, only to hear: "Sorry, the phone you are calling is powered off." This was the automated message for a phone in airplane mode.

It was obvious which flight Quentin was on.

When the call finally went through at 10:00 AM, he heard Quentin give a rare greeting in Cantonese: "Good morning."

Elliot replied with fake sincerity, "Good morning, Big Brother."

"It must have been hard for you to go to such lengths to get me back here."

Quentin didn't take the bait. "The signal in Velaa is poor. I’ll hang up now if there's nothing else."

"Big Brother," Elliot interrupted him. "The little sister has a wild mind. She’s planning to go 'play with men' today."

Elliot stopped there and hung up the phone. He knew Quentin would have a headache today. He wasn't about to let Quentin ruin his mood without returning the favor.

Ideally, Quentin would directly stop Clara from going, which would make her hate him.

On the other side, listening to the dial tone, Quentin’s expression darkened. He could easily guess what Elliot was planning.

Clara had just woken up and finished getting ready, admiring herself in the mirror for quite a while. Now that the second brother was gone, she had dug out her boldest bikini to wear.

Her sheer beach dress revealed her waist and legs, with a fishtail hem and swaying tassels. One could faintly see the ice-blue shimmering bikini underneath, held at the neck by a diamond chain. Several diamond chains hung around her waist, outlining her graceful curves.

It was revealing and clear, yet it generously displayed the magnificence of a young woman.

Just then, Cynthia called to ask, "Have you decided, baby? Are you coming today?"

"Since you invited me so warmly, how could I bear not to go?"

Cynthia laughed. "So reluctant?"

"No!" Clara picked up her shawl and small hat. "My second brother was here yesterday, but he went home this morning."

"There's no one watching me. I can play with whatever I want today."

"I'm leaving now. I'll find you at the restaurant in a bit." Clara pushed open the door and entered the living room, asking casually, "By the way, how many of those... will be there tonight?"

"Eight. They’ve all passed health checks and background checks. I’ve booked them from the Magic Mike trainee program; their histories are clean."

"I’m picking them, so don't worry," Cynthia’s voice came through the receiver.

The words coincided with Clara’s sudden, frozen footsteps.

Quentin was standing right in front of her, having heard every word Cynthia said.

Clara froze on the spot!

The room was deathly silent.

Only the diamond waist chains on Clara’s body continued to sway gently. They clinked softly against the girl’s slender, snow-white waist. The diamonds refracted the dazzling light, making her skin look radiant, soft, and delicate.

Like a fruit bursting with juice.

It was dizzyingly bright.

He wanted to tear them off.