Her Little Games

At the welcome back dinner, my boyfriend peeled a shrimp for me.

His childhood friend pouted beside him:

Brother, why don't you peel one for me? You're playing favorites~

My boyfriend's usually cool face instantly flushed crimson.

To ease the awkwardness, I raised my hands and said,

My nails are too long, you see. I'll let your brother peel one for you in a bit.

At my words, the friend shot me a hysterical glance.

"I'm so jealous of Sister Anya for having such long nails.

"Unlike me, I have to do housework every day, and I've never had a manicure..."

The dinner table instantly fell silent.

Only the faint clinking of cutlery against porcelain broke the quiet.

My male best friend, Chris Donovan, sat opposite me, his brow deeply furrowed. He slammed down the wine glass he had just raised.

I, too, let my smile fade, offering no response.

Willows words were venomous.

With Frank Hayes intelligence, he could surely discern the hidden meaning in Willows statement.

After all, when I was abroad, he often shared posts about "green tea" girls in our country.

Back then, he'd often tell me that those "green tea" girls were so amateur, he could spot them a mile away.

Yet now, after hearing Willow's words, he merely turned to her and asked:

"Why are you still doing housework? Didn't you say your new job was very busy?"

Willow bit her lower lip, her eyes instantly reddening. She lowered her head and said, in a wronged tone:

"Frank, you know my family's situation right now... Mom's not well, so no matter how busy I am, I have to share the household chores."

She looked up, but avoided my gaze, timidly saying:

"Not everyone can enjoy life like Sister Anya. I also want to get a manicure, but circumstances don't allow it..."

The two of them carried on, oblivious to anyone else, enacting a scene of deep childhood friendship.

Chris finally couldn't hold back. He crossed his arms and let out a cold laugh:

"Willow, right? If you want to talk about your own misery, just talk about yourself. Why drag Anya into it?

"What, Anya's family is wealthy and she's pampered? That's her good fortune. Who are you being passive-aggressive for?"

Frank seemed to just realize this was my welcome-back dinner.

He turned, his gaze sharply sweeping over Chris.

Then he looked at me, finally saying in a low voice to Willow, "Let's eat first; we'll talk afterward."

Willows tears instantly welled up and fell.

"Frank, I didn't mean it... Do you think I'm being annoying?"

"Today was supposed to be Sister Anya's welcome-back dinner, and you insisted on bringing me along, but I ended up spoiling it for everyone...

"I'll just leave now..."

She said, making to stand up.

Frank grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

Every word she spoke revealed the depth of her relationship with Frank C that he had "insisted" on bringing her.

The other girls at the table, all my university classmates, exchanged glances, cautiously observing my reaction.

Chris gritted his teeth, ready to stand up and confront them.

I reached out and gently pressed his arm.

Frank keenly noticed my physical contact with Chris.

His gaze instantly turned cold, fixated on Chris's arm, which my hand was resting on, and he asked me in an unfriendly tone:

Mr. Donovan seems to have a strong opinion about Willow?

I still held Chriss arm, not letting go.

I simply turned to Willow, forcing a smile that held no warmth in my eyes:

How could that be? I think Willow is quite popular.

I paused, then slowly continued:

Yesterday, Franks cousin, Aaron, told me he sent you a large bouquet of 99 red roses the day before, and you accepted them.

I watched Willows face instantly stiffen, my smile deepening:

You have feelings for him too, dont you?

I did indeed have Aaron Hayes' WhatsApp.

As a distant branch of the Hayes family, that kid often asked me for favors back in the day.

Yesterday, when he asked me about my return date, he casually mentioned that he was aggressively pursuing Frank Hayes' "pitiful" childhood friend, Willow.

Willow's family and the Hayes family used to be neighbors and were very close.

However, after Willows father succumbed to gambling, losing all their assets, they moved from the villa district to a resettlement area, and the two families gradually drifted apart.

But I never expected that Willow's connection with the Hayes brothers, Frank and Aaron, had never been severed.

It was even this close.

I just didnt know if Frank knew about the bouquet of roses.

After speaking, I took a sip of red wine, my gaze over the rim of the glass, glancing at Frank opposite me.

He remained calm and unperturbed, as if he hadn't heard.

But his fingers gripping the wine glass were slightly white at the knuckles.

My friends beside me reacted quickly, immediately starting to chatter and tease Willow:

Oh my god, 99 red roses? That definitely means hes pursuing you!

You accepted the flowers, so something good must be happening soon, right?

Willow, why didnt you bring that guy with you today? Did you not invite him?

Aaron might be a cousin, but hes quite accomplished in the Hayes family. Willow, youre so lucky.

They spoke one after another, though their faces held smiles, their words implicitly confirmed Willows suspicion of "two-timing."

Willow, being roasted alive like this, finally couldn't maintain her delicate, pitiful facade.

She waved her hands frantically, explaining urgently:

"No... no! Those flowers... I thought Aaron had no use for them anymore...

"Sister Anya, you've misunderstood Aaron. He's not pursuing me; we're just like siblings..."

She instinctively turned to look at Frank, her eyes full of pleading, but then shifted her attack to me:

"I'm so jealous that Sister Anya and Aaron are so close; she's only just returned and already knows so much about Aaron's private life."

This tactic of deflecting blame was skillfully executed.

Frank, predictably, shifted his scrutiny from her to me.

He narrowed his eyes, his gaze holding a mix of inquiry and displeasure:

You and Aaron talk a lot? You were chatting with him before you even landed yesterday?

I put down my wine glass, the glass base clinking sharply on the table.

Are you asking this because youre jealous of Aaron? Or are you worried I found out something I shouldnt have?

I majored in psychology abroad.

Willow's previous statement was meant to lure me into a self-incrimination trap.

If I explained, "it was just casually mentioned," or "I don't contact him often," then I would become the weak party under interrogation, and by default, I would be agreeing that I needed to report my contacts with other men to Frank.

I had to address his motive, not prove my innocence.

The moment I asked, Frank was speechless.

He probably never expected that I, usually gentle and magnanimous, would be so sharp.

Frank and I were introduced by our families, a typical business arrangement.

Well-matched in social status, bound by mutual interests.

Over the two years wed been together, though there were no dramatic passions, our relationship was stable and respectful.

We were both sensible and polite individuals; our conversations had never been this tense or filled with hostility before tonight.

Even when I went abroad to study and he was so busy in the country that he didn't reply to my messages for three consecutive days, I had never questioned him so boldly.

His face kept changing.

It was shock, the anger of having his thoughts exposed, and perhaps even a touch of panic at the situation spiraling out of control.

Since this fire had already started, I would let it burn brighter.

Before anyone could react, I took out my phone and dialed Aaron Hayes directly.

The phone rang twice before connecting.

"Hello? Sister Anya? What's up?" Aaron's nonchalant voice came from the other end.

I put it on speaker, and my voice echoed clearly through the private dining room:

"Aaron, I'm having dinner at the Pavilion. Your brother and Willow are here too. Since everyone's here, why don't you come over?"

With that, without waiting for a reply, I hung up.

Willow's face instantly turned ashen, and she looked at Frank in terror.

Frank abruptly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound.

He suppressed his anger, growling:

"Anya Shen, do you have to do this?!

"Do you think things aren't chaotic enough?!"

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, watching him calmly:

"Since it's a misunderstanding, calling the person here to clarify face-to-face, how does that make it chaotic?

"Or are you afraid that if Aaron comes, some of your little act won't be able to continue?"

Willow finally broke down, covering her face and sobbing softly, as if she had suffered an immense wrong.

Sister Anya why are you making things so difficult for me

Cant I just leave

Chris scoffed from the side, speaking for me:

Its just calling Aaron over, how is that making things difficult for you?

Werent you happy when you received the flowers? Is it a misunderstanding or not, the person will be here soon to clear your name, why are you crying?

Frank sharply interrupted Chris, pointing at me with a stern tone:

Anya Shen, youre being overly dramatic! Willow is sensitive; with so many people here, why do you have to make such a scene to embarrass her?

Shes my little sister, whom Ive grown up with since childhood!

As he spoke, he pulled out his phone, about to call Aaron to tell him not to come.

Watching his impatient eagerness to protect Willow, the last trace of warmth in my heart completely froze.

Dont want to face the situation after he arrives?

Afraid that your self-proclaimed unique position in her heart will be shaken? Or afraid that youll discover your deep affection was misplaced?

Franks movements stiffened. He narrowed his eyes and looked at me, his gaze icy cold:

What do you mean?

My best friend, Lisa, who had been silent by my side, finally couldn't hold back.

She muttered softly, her voice not loud, yet clear enough for everyone present to hear:

Whats with the act Six months ago, I accidentally guessed Franks social media password, and he had posted private messages there only visible to one person

Things like waiting for you to grow up, my forever knight, and so many photos of Willow terribly ambiguous.

Silence once again fell over the private room.

Willow suddenly looked up, denying vehemently: "That's just because we're close, Brother has always treated me like a sister!"

Franks face completely darkened.

He stared intensely at me, his eyes filled with disappointment and disgust:

Anya Shen, I never realized how manipulative you are.

You usually act so composed, yet secretly you pry into others privacy? And even go through old social media posts?

Lisa stood up, fuming, to explain: "I was just curious and tried it myself; I only mentioned it to Anya.

"Anya even spoke up for you then, saying those were things of the past and she didn't care about your history. How can you be so ungrateful?!"

Yes, I really didn't care about his past.

Who hasn't been young and foolish? Who doesn't have a childhood friend?

I also have my purely platonic best friend, Chris; our relationship is transparent and honest.

Moreover, I went to study abroad after Frank and I officially started dating.

Before I left the country, Frank had solemnly promised our parents that we were headed for marriage.

He said we were well-matched, similar in personality, and the most suitable partners for marriage.

Even after I went abroad, despite the time difference, he tried his best to accommodate my schedule.

Last Christmas, he even turned down contracts worth tens of millions to fly to London to spend Christmas with me. We held hands and watched fireworks by the Thames.

All these good things, I saw and kept in my heart.

So I thought I could overlook his past, and I could even tolerate his "sibling affection."

But tonight's welcome-back dinner completely opened my eyes.

If I married him, it would mean constantly having to tolerate Willow, this "sister," coming between us.

Always having to give in to her, always watching her perform, always being held hostage by Frank's logic of "she's weak, so she's right."

The thought of such a life was suffocating.

Aaron Hayes arrived even faster than expected.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the show.

But the moment the door was pushed open, Frank, as if startled, grabbed Willow's hand and made to leave.

Lets go, this meal is impossible to eat.

His face was cold, and he didn't even spare Aaron a glance as he entered.

I remained in my seat, unmoving.

Just as he was about to step out of the private room, I spoke coldly:

Frank Hayes. If you take her out that door right now, our engagement can be considered over.

Frank's footsteps halted.

He turned, his gaze icy cold, looking at me as if I were an unreasonable shrew:

Anya Shen, theres no need to be so aggressive. Its just a meal, why do you have to make it a life-and-death struggle?

I stood up, walking towards him step by step, my high heels clicking decisively on the floor.

It wasn't until I stood before him that I retorted:

Who am I forcing? Did I make her cry at my welcome-back dinner? Did I make her publicly shame me for not doing housework? Did I make her accept another mans flowers and then act innocent here?

Perhaps my presence was too intimidating; as I passed the doorway, I accidentally bumped into a waiter who was cautiously entering with a wine cooler.

The waiters hand trembled, and the red wine bottle tilted.

The dark red wine instantly spilled out, landing squarely on Willows pristine white dress.

Ah!

Willow shrieked, shrinking into Franks arms.

Aaron pushed open the door just in time to see this scene.

From his perspective, he only saw me aggressively approaching, and then Willow was splashed with wine.

His face instantly turned extremely grim, and he rushed over, asking: Willow! What happened?!

Willow trembled all over, her voice tearful, yet she didn't forget to "exonerate" me:

Its okay Aaron Sister Anya didnt mean it

Dont get angry with Sister Anya because of me Its my fault, I shouldnt have come

With that, she covered her face and made to cry and leave.

Frank grabbed her hand, then forcefully pushed me.

The force was so great that I stumbled back two steps, nearly hitting the corner of the table.

Chris quickly steadied me, roaring, Frank Hayes, what are you doing?!

Frank pointed at my nose, his eyes filled with disappointment and fury:

Anya Shen, I used to think you were cultured, generous, and gentle. I never imagined youd resort to such petty tricks!

Publicly splashing someone with wine? Is this the upbringing of your Shen family? I truly misjudged you.

Looking at his righteous, protective demeanor, I suddenly felt utterly nauseated.

My stomach churned.

I took a deep breath, broke free from Chris's support, and strode forward.

I raised my hand.

"Splat!"

A sharp slap echoed through the private room, even overpowering the background music.

Frank's face snapped to the side, a clear imprint of five fingers instantly appearing on his cheek.

The entire room was silent.

I shook my tingling palm, a cold sneer on my lips:

Misjudged me? Fine, Frank Hayes, that slap was for myself.

Since were settling scores, lets settle them properly.

I stared into his shocked eyes, enunciating each word:

I recall your familys new energy business in Europe was expanded through my familys connections, wasnt it?

It was I who braved a blizzard to run to a factory for you to negotiate when I was studying in the UK, and it was I who helped you connect with several key parliament members.

Since you say you misjudged me, and you think I lack proper upbringing, fine. Since those connections were established by me, I also know how to retract them.

The moment I finished speaking, before Frank could say anything, Aaron beside him got annoyed.

He scoffed, his face full of disdain:

Sister Anya, you really think too highly of yourself, dont you?

Stop using your familys connections to pressure my brother. If our Hayes family truly had no capabilities, your Shen familys connections wouldnt do any good.

Business dealings are mutually beneficial, you think its your charity?

No effect?

I looked at these arrogant and blind brothers, finding them utterly ridiculous.

They must have been in good times for too long, forgetting what true resource barriers were.

To actually choose to oppose an engagement, and their own interests, for the sake of this woman, Willow.

I smoothed my slightly disheveled skirt, regaining my usual elegance and composure.

No effect, you say?

I scoffed, my gaze sweeping over Franks still-stunned face, finally settling on Aaron:

Then lets test it out.