The Waltz of Hearts(1)

Author: Shi Liang Xiang Si

My boyfriend, Marcus Meyer, vanished without a trace a few months before our engagement. I searched for him relentlessly for the next two years, feeling like I was losing my mind.

When I coincidentally ran into him at a social event, I was shocked to learn he had become a top heir in high society. What surprised me even more, was that he was with his supposed childhood sweetheart.

I was consumed by anger and felt the need to take action. I excused myself when he entered the men's room and followed him. However, as soon as he saw me, he pushed me against the door and warned me to leave him alone.

"We didn't break up. You're still mine," I stubbornly asserted, holding fast to my conviction.

He lowered his long lashes, his expression somber as he asked, "What do you want from me now? To be your lover?"

"Marcus, are you all right?" Clara Gray's voice came from outside, shattering our uncomfortable silence.

My chest constricted, and Marcus' reaction only added to my discomfort.

He covered my mouth with his hand to prevent me from saying something that might raise suspicion from Clara, his childhood sweetheart. It was clear that he didn't want her to know about us.

"It's okay. I'll be finished soon. You can go back first," Marcus said, his voice devoid of his usual coldness.

As soon as Clara left, Marcus removed his hand. He stared at the scarlet lipstick stain on his hand, then walked over to the sink to wash it off, appearing composed the entire time.

"Marcus, did you think I would purposely make a sound just to upset her?" I fixed my gaze on his slender back, trying to decipher what he was thinking.

"Wouldn't you?" he asked, as if he was confident that I could do such a thing. Our eyes met in the mirror's reflection, his chiseled eyebrows arching.

"Yes, I would, and even more," I said, swallowing the bitterness in my throat and ignoring the pain in my heart.

"Lea Sherwood, abandon your ill intentions and stop playing games," Marcus said, his eyes flickering with warning and sarcasm as he glanced at me.

He pushed me away and walked off with a decisive stride, leaving me with no doubt that our relationship had been over for a long time.

1

It took me a while to recover from the shock.

When I pushed open the door to leave, I accidentally ran into Cayden Meyer.

"Ms. Sherwood, what are you doing here?" Cayden had an enchantingly handsome face. When he raised his eyebrows teasingly, it was both charming and irritating.

Cayden was the adopted son of the Meyer family. The event that day was held to celebrate the return of Meyers' biological son, the rightful heir. I had attended intending to mock Cayden's awkward situation, but little did I know that the true heir was my missing boyfriend.

At that moment, I lost my desire to taunt Cayden.

I realized that there were no eternal enemies in this world.

I needed to work with Cayden to make Clara fall in love with him. I want Cayden to replace Marcus in the marriage alliance between the Gray and Meyer families.

I straightened my gown and looked up at him with a smile. "I'm waiting for you."

Cayden and I had clashed in business so often that he knew my personality well. He closed the restroom door and said, "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be willing to work with me."

"Marcus is my boyfriend, but we're going through a rough patch right now. I need your help to reconcile with him. In return, I'll help you win Clara's heart and secure your status in the Meyer family," I proposed, getting straight to the point.

He lowered his long eyelashes as if recalling a distant memory. "Oh, now I remember. You shut down the airport two years ago to search for your boy toy. I didn't expect Marcus to have such a colorful past," he remarked.

"Wow, Marcus has such a long history."

His tone dripped with sarcasm.

"Think about my offer carefully," I said as I reached out to pat the non-existent dust on his chest.

Just as I was about to leave, he stopped me with a hint of intrigue in his voice. "I don't particularly like Clara. Is there something else you can offer me instead?" he asked.

I hate it when people push their luck.

I turned around and grabbed his collar angrily. "Don't you like the money? Don't you enjoy the power of the Gray family? Don't you love the status of the Meyer family?"

It was clear that he and I were both like mad dogs, easily turning hostile at the slightest disagreement.

He tightly gripped my wrist, narrowed his eyes, and sneered, "You're the one who came to me for help, Lea!"

I yanked my wrist free from his grip and twisted it to ease the lingering pain. "What you call help, I call cooperation. Think about it. If you're not interested, I have other options."

"Okay, but try to be polite to your partner in the future. You're cute, but you come off as cold all the time. Nobody likes that kind of attitude," he said with a flirtatious grin, touching my cheek. Before I could get angry, he walked into the restroom.

I found no appeal in seeing men using the toilet, so I had no choice but to swallow my indignation and leave.

Sitting on the sofa in the corner of the hall, I couldn't help but keep my gaze fixed on Clara and Marcus as if I was torturing myself.

They seemed to be a perfect match for each other.

As the event drew to a close, a row of wine glasses was left on my table. I had lost count of how many drinks I had gulped down.

I struggled to stand up, walked up to Marcus, and looked up at him. "Marcus, drive me home."

He responded with a cold expression, "Ms. Sherwood, you've had too much to drink. Please wait for a moment. I'll arrange for someone to escort you home."

"I want you to drive me home," I insisted. Noticing his frown and the intent to refuse, I added, "I have something very important to tell you, just this once."

Perhaps moved by my plea of "just this once," Marcus appeared momentarily lost in thought. He then leaned down and whispered something gently into Clara's ear, who responded with equal gentleness.

I couldn't hear what he said.

He was the only person in my field of vision.

However, he had his gaze fixed on someone else entirely.

A sense of bitterness crept into my heart, and I couldn't help but turn my back on him.

"Let's go," Marcus said, walking past me without stopping.

I was wearing a pair of 3-inch stiletto heels, which looked elegant but weren't very practical for walking.

Even though Marcus might have been aware of this, he didn't seem to care as he approached the Maybach parked outside the door.

He opened the car door and got in. After buckling his seatbelt, he immediately stepped on the accelerator without saying a word. The ride was completely silent, so silent that it felt like we weren't even breathing.

It wasn't until he turned off the engine at my courtyard gate that he got straight to the point. "What's the matter? Tell me," he said.

"I've been searching for you for the past two years, and I didn't get engaged," I said.

He was silent for a long time before responding softly, "Hmm."

Perhaps the damage had already been done.

I didn't think of our relationship as anything serious at that time. In hindsight, I could see that I harbored genuine affection only for him and that attachment still lingered within me.

I couldn't bear to see him so calm. So, I unfastened my seat belt and leaned over, half-kneeling on his lap. I pressed his shoulders and kissed him without hesitation.

I kissed him passionately, pouring all my emotions into it. However, Marcus was only stunned momentarily before pushing me away.

My head hit the car's roof, a sharp pain throbbing through it, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

"Lea, don't be like a lunatic," Marcus said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me.

I didn't know if it was because of the pain or the sadness, but my eyes were red, and my hair was a mess as I struggled. I must have looked like a lunatic, indeed.

I wiped away the smudged lipstick and looked at him with certainty and seriousness. "You didn't like me anymore," I said.

Those words hurt no one but me.

Marcus turned to look out of the window, took out a cigarette, and lit it.

He didn't say it directly, but it made me feel more pain than if he had just admitted it.

If he had admitted it, maybe I might have been able to fantasize that he was just infuriated with me. But his silence was the loudest statement, signaling his feelings for me were already lost.

As the only child of my parents, I had known since I was a child that I was the heiress of the Sherwood Corporation, which put me under extraordinary pressure.

That was why I rarely cried.

But at that moment, I couldn't stop my tears from falling.

But my voice was still calm as I said, "Marcus, I know I was a bastard back then. I'm sorry. I can make it up to you, but I won't let you go."

The cigarette almost burned his fingers, which snapped Marcus back to reality. He looked at me emotionlessly and said hoarsely, "Get out of the car."

Perhaps because he knew how difficult it was to deal with me, he chose not to reply.

After all, I had used both gentle and forceful methods in my unwavering pursuit of his love back then, going to great lengths until he finally became my boyfriend.

Right after I exited the car, he started the engine and drove away.

As the taillights faded into the distance, my heart grew colder and heavier.

At that moment, I vowed that everything I coveted, even the depths of his soul, must belong to me.

2

Unlike me, who bore the weight of my family's expectations and pressures, Clara Gray had the luxury of time and money to pursue her passion for art.

She leased the most extensive exhibition hall in Arlington, the Sky City, to host an art charity auction.

When I received the invitation, I was so overwhelmed by the busy schedule that I considered throwing away the dainty white card. However, the last item on the auction list caught my eye—a pair of matching rings called "Memory."

The pair of couple's rings symbolizes love rekindled.

They were designed by a famous Italian jewelry designer who had reunited with her first love after 30 years of separation.

The market value was immeasurable.

I was astonished that Clara could procure such a treasure for her auction.

In a good mood, I accepted the invitation and pushed aside all the documents. I rang Clayden and asked, "Would you like to accompany me to Sky City?"

I could only imagine where Clayden was, lost in his own world of passion. His voice was laced with laziness as he asked, "Where's your fiancé?"

"He's not my fiancé. He's on a business trip to Germany and hasn't come back yet."

"Money talks when it comes to winning Clara's heart. Are you willing to support me financially?" Clayden said nonchalantly, showing little enthusiasm.

"Sure."

"Ms. Sherwood, you're so generous. Send me the location when you're ready."

When he came, he opened the door for me like a gentleman.

I responded naturally with a polite curtsy.

Once in the car, I sat back and closed my eyes to rest. I could feel Cayden's eyes on me, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of reacting. "Have you seen enough?" I asked.

"Ms. Sherwood, it seems like you put some effort into your appearance today."

"Nice observation. You should try it sometime."

Speechless, Cayden quickly changed the subject. "What's the point of going to Clara's charity auction? There's no publicity or reporters, and participants are limited to those in the circle. You won't get anything out of it. Are you really going to be so kind-hearted? You?"

Indeed, I'm not a kind-hearted person.

"Clara secured the "Memory" rings for the auction. It's listed on the invitation card. I want to buy it as a gift to Marcus."

"Oh, Ms. Sherwood, you're really generous when you want to be romantic."

I ignored his mockery. It wasn't until the car pulled up to the Sky City gate that I smiled and walked in, arm-in-arm with him.

As soon as we entered, I spotted Marcus standing next to Clara, attentively listening to her.

I felt a pang of jealousy but tried to push it away. Cayden and I made our way to the front row and sat down.

"Truth be told, your beauty is truly captivating, even more so than Clara's, and you're the heiress of the Sherwood family. But do you know where Clara may have the edge over you?"

"Where?" I asked though I couldn't fathom where Clara had any advantage over me. I refused to concede defeat until the bitter end.

Yet nothing good came out of Cayden's mouth. "It's your personality," he remarked bluntly, "that sharp tongue of yours, and the way you carry yourself, I'm afraid they don't leave much room for attraction."

I sneered and ignored him. I didn't take it to heart.

As the auction began, I raised my paddle several times as a symbolic gesture.

However, Cayden was not so reserved. He bid on everything that caught his slightest interest, fully aware that I would be his financial support.

When "Memory" was put up for auction, the venue fell silent. As the price rose to 12 million dollars, no more bidders were left.

At 18 million dollars, I thought victory was mine, but Marcus raised his paddle.

Our eyes met from across the room, and I gazed into his dark eyes.

If he won the rings, it wouldn't be for my sake, so I had to secure them myself.

Marcus would only get one of the couple's rings, the one for the man.

When the bidding reached 40 million dollars, Marcus finally stopped. I managed to acquire "Memory," but the price far exceeded my planned budget. As I walked on stage briefly to claim my purchase, I didn't feel the joy of victory.

Because it was Marcus who stood in my way.

Maybe he really wanted the rings, but if he didn't want to give one of them to me, it would be even more infuriating.

After making some casual remarks on stage, I cast a glance towards Marcus, who was seated below, and said with a smile, "Given your affinity for the 'Memory' rings, Mr. Meyer, I would like to present them to you as a gift, in honor of your return."

The audience burst into an uproar.

No one had expected me to be so generous as to give away rings worth 40 million dollars to someone else.

The noise was mixed with all kinds of speculations, but my smile deepened.

As of late, I had grown tired of hearing his name repeatedly linked with Clara's. I really didn't like it.

"Thank you for your generosity, Ms. Sherwood, but I believe Mr. Schultz would appreciate the rings more. You may want to keep them for the wedding," Marcus politely declined after a brief pause.

He even got up and nodded slightly at me before leaving the exhibition center.

He intended to draw a clear line between us.

After receiving the "Memory" rings, I swiftly exited the stage and hastily made my way to the underground garage. As I turned the corner, I nearly collided with a Maybach that was just pulling out. Without a second thought, I stepped forward to halt the car.

Marcus slammed on the brakes and stopped the car, then lowered the window and looked at me as I walked to the passenger seat. "Are you trying to kill yourself?" he asked, his face a little pale.

I opened the passenger door and got in. I handed him the man's ring of the "Memory" couple's rings as I replied, "No, I'm not."

Marcus didn't even look at the ring, let alone take it. "This is a pointless gesture."

"How can it be pointless? The designer of 'Memory' and his first love was separated for 30 years and could still fall in love again. We are just two years apart. Why can't we give it another chance?" I forced the ring into his hand and said, "Just throw it away if you don't want it."

Marcus held the ring in his hand, staring at it silently for a moment. He then lowered the window and tossed it out without any hesitation.

My heart skipped a beat.

It felt as though Marcus had discarded half of the 40 million dollars and my genuine feelings.

Maybe in his view, my genuine feelings were vain and distorted, severely diminishing the value of "Memory."

I scratched the hem of my skirt helplessly and said in a hoarse voice, "I know it's all my fault. I failed you back then."

"You didn't fail me. I don't hate you at all. I just don't want to have anything to do with you. Do you understand?" Marcus pinched my chin to stop me from lowering my head to hide my tears.

"Do you think your hypocritical tears are worth anything? Do you really think it will work?" he said, looking at me quietly. His words were stern, but his eyes held no ridicule. Perhaps he simply believed he was speaking the truth.

I had overestimated my mental strength, or perhaps I had overestimated my ability to withstand Marcus's coldness.

I closed my eyes and couldn't bear to look at him any longer. Without a word, I opened the car door and got out.

He probably didn't want to see me again. When I left Sky City, Marcus still didn't come out of the underground garage.