The sales associate had just returned with the purchase contract when Douglas's declaration froze her in place at the door.

  Not knowing what had just transpired, she stood there awkwardly, unsure whether to enter or retreat.

  Scarlett let out a cold snort and turned her head away in disdain.

  Grace, watching the pair's childish bickering, gradually let her smile fade. "Alright, alright. You're scaring the staff."

  Only then did Douglas notice the associate standing at the door. He exhaled and obediently sat back down.

  Grace beckoned the young woman inside with an apologetic smile. "They're just joking around. Don't be alarmed."

  The associate nodded, a bit embarrassed, but quickly regained her professional composure as she approached Grace. "Please review the purchase contract, ma'am. This model comes in three configurations. The base trim is approximately 700 Dollars out the door, the mid-tier is around 850 Dollars, and the top-tier is the most expensive—fully loaded, it exceeds 1,000 Dollars."

  "The differences must be substantial?" Grace asked.

  For the same model to have such a significant price gap between trims, the driving experience likely varied considerably.

  The associate nodded. "Absolutely. The top-tier trim offers the best performance across all aspects of the vehicle. That said, the base configuration is more than sufficient for most drivers. If you don't have an extreme pursuit of automotive perfection, the base model is the most cost-effective choice."

  In short: pursue perfection, choose top-tier. Pursue value, choose base.

  "I'll take the top-tier."

  Grace promptly checked the box next to the top-tier configuration and filled in her details and signature.

  Both Scarlett and Douglas watched Grace sign and approve the payment with crisp efficiency, identical flickers of surprise crossing their faces.

  Douglas, beyond the shock, found Grace even more intriguing. He'd never met a woman who walked into a dealership and picked a top-tier Cullinan without blinking—over a thousand Dollars, just like that.

  Scarlett, on the other hand, was purely stunned. After a moment, she murmured, "Sweetie, do you really need to buy such an expensive car?"

  Many of her acquaintances owned cars, but rarely did anyone exceed 300 Dollars.

  "I like that car," Grace said, looking at Scarlett. "Liking it is what matters most."

  The reasoning was simple and irrefutable. Scarlett nodded with an expression that clearly said, I don't get it, but I respect it.

  Twenty minutes later, the associate saw them off at the entrance. "Take care, Miss Dorothy. If you have any further questions, feel free to message me anytime."

  Grace smiled and gave a slight nod. Douglas, who had slipped on his sunglasses, gestured casually. "It's scorching out here. Want me to drive you two back?"

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  Scarlett shot him a look as if he were a pickpocket.

  "Don't be so dramatic."

  But she didn't refuse outright. She took Grace's arm and led her into Douglas's car, both of them settling into the back seat.

  It was a Rolls-Royce Phantom, four-seat configuration—price tag less than half of Grace's Cullinan. And this was merely one of Douglas's many prized vehicles.

  Luke approached Douglas and asked curiously, "So? Did you get her LetsChat?"

  Douglas shrugged and shook his head.

  "Huh? There's actually a girl who turns down the young master Vance?"

  Luke found this surprising. The girl was undeniably gorgeous, but in Douglas's extensive experience, he'd never been stonewalled at the "adding contacts" stage before.

  He'd even dated celebrities and supermodels.

  Douglas, however, didn't seem angry or frustrated. Instead, he smiled knowingly. "Whether I 'get her' or not is still up in the air. Don't jump to conclusions. It's just adding her on LetsChat—I have my ways."

  On the drive back with Grace and Scarlett, Douglas was unusually quiet. He spoke only occasionally, focusing mostly on the road.

  Even when he dropped Grace off at her door, he didn't bring up LetsChat again.

  This uncharacteristic restraint only deepened Scarlett's suspicions.

  "Bye!"

  Douglas rolled down his window, waved, and executed a clean U-turn. Scarlett furrowed her brow. "What's he plotting now?!"

  Grace gave a resigned smile. "Don't be so paranoid. I think your brother is kind of amusing."

  "Sweetie, don't be fooled by appearances. He's got plenty of tricks up his sleeve. How else do you think he cycles through girlfriends like clockwork?"

  Grace nodded. "I get it. I'm not naive. I won't fall for anything so easily."

  What Grace didn't say was that, in her view, chasing novelty and cycling through partners quickly was simply one form of romantic relationship. As long as no one was hurt and both parties consented, every type of human connection had its place.

  A week-long relationship and a two-month relationship—what was the real difference? Those who dated for years only to break up in the end paid a far higher cost of trial and error. They were the ones screaming that their youth had been fed to the dogs.

  So which dating model offered a better experience? It was entirely subjective. A matter of personal choice.

  But Grace kept these thoughts to herself. She knew Scarlett was only looking out for her. Besides, Grace had long since stopped believing in love. No matter how clever Douglas's tricks were, they would never work on her.

  Back at the villa, Scarlett immediately headed upstairs to shower. This October weather was absurd—two minutes outside and you were drenched in sweat.

  Grace took her time finding clean clothes in her room, then habitually glanced at her phone. A little red dot glowed on her LetsChat contacts list.

  "cloud" sent you a friend request.

  Grace blinked and tapped open the profile.

  Age: 23

  Gender: Male

  The profile picture wasn't a photograph either.

  Assuming it was one of the team members from the "Waiting for the Right One" group, Grace didn't overthink it and hit accept.

  A message immediately followed.

  "Got you on LetsChat after all!"

  Grace stared at the screen, then suddenly smiled. "Douglas?"

  "Mhm! What do you think, Grace? Pretty impressive, right? Scarlett wouldn't give me your info, but I still found a way to add you!"

  Grace typed back as she walked toward the bathroom.

  "You didn't pay to dig up my personal info, did you?"

  "Of course not. I'd never stoop to doxxing someone like that. While you were signing the contract at the dealership, I memorized your phone number."

  Grace understood now. She had to admit, Douglas's memory and his little tricks were rather impressive.

  Scarlett hadn't been exaggerating. He really did have his ways.

  Douglas followed up with an invitation:

  "Come out tonight. It's the National Day holiday—how boring is it to just stay home every day?"

  "I know Scarlett's probably painted me as some worthless playboy, but don't worry, I know my boundaries. I just genuinely want to invite you out to have fun."

  Five minutes later...

  "Why aren't you answering?"

  "Okay, fine, I admit it—I am interested in you. But I promise I won't cross any lines. You can even bring Scarlett along. With her there, you've got nothing to worry about, right?"

  "/crying_face Say something, Grace. You're making me feel like an idiot."

  ...

  Douglas's messages kept coming. The only reason Grace hadn't replied was that she was in the shower.