Chapter 4

"You—!"

Oliver had left Frank so furious his hand was shaking. He pointed at the doorway and for a long moment couldn't get out a single word.

I sat on the sofa with my teacup, watching Oliver stand there like he owned the world, and I couldn't help laughing out loud.

"Four million?" I set the cup down and dabbed at the corner of my mouth with a tissue.

"Oliver, do you honestly think everything under the sun has a price tag on it, and that the money in your pocket lets you do whatever you want?"

Oliver flicked the ash off his cigarette, his whole face set in that look of someone gazing down from on high. "What else? Marianne, quit acting so high and mighty. Have you ever seen four million in cash stacked up in front of you, you broke little nobody? Why can't you just take the money and go retire back in the sticks? Why do you have to make it this ugly?"

Right on cue, Teresa let a few tears fall and tugged at Oliver's sleeve.

Her voice went soft and coaxing. "Oliver, don't say any more. Marianne probably didn't mean to blow it up like this. If it really comes to that... I'll just give the spot back to her. Worst case, I'll redo a year..."

"Give it back?" Oliver dipped his head and patted her hand, his tone so doting you could wring it out.

"I went to all that trouble getting you in. Why should you give up anything? Don't worry, leave this to me. She's not going to turn the sky over."

Then he turned to fix his eyes on me, his expression dark. "Marianne, I'll say it one last time. Four million. Take the money, go retire in the countryside, and we're square from here on out. But if you keep dragging this out... then don't blame me for the methods I use on you."

"Ha. Young Mr. Gilbert, hearing you talk, I'd say you're not taking me seriously at all." Frank was so angry he'd swung back around to laughing.

At this point he truly had no desire to keep talking to this brain-dead rich kid.

He was already thinking of having the relevant department for the district come through the proper channels and haul him in.

Just then, the door of the reception room was pushed open again.

The president of Riverton University came hurrying in, the head of admissions in tow, both of them drenched in sweat.

Seeing Oliver standing there, he even nodded a reflexive greeting. "Young Mr. Gilbert, you're here too."

Oliver gave a snort, not sparing the president a second glance. "President Chavez, your admissions team did good work this time. I'll have my father donate a building to your library later."

President Chavez's face reflexively broke into a smile, and he was just about to say thank you.

Then Frank's furious shout yanked him back to reality, and he jumped.

"Oliver! Shut your mouth! President Chavez, bring out your admissions paperwork right now. In front of everyone here, you're going to lay this whole thing out clearly!"

President Chavez went pale and quickly handed over the folder in his hands.

The head of admissions stood beside him, stammering out an explanation. "Director James, at the time Young Mr. Gilbert said that Miss Finch had voluntarily given up her enrollment, so... so we... we let Miss Teresa Fox take her place... We're sorry, Director James... We didn't verify it properly, it was our mistake, our oversight... please forgive us..."

"Oversight?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"The acceptance letter is in my hands. My ID and household registration are with me too. You didn't confirm a single thing. On Oliver's word alone you let Teresa take my place, and now you think one word, 'oversight,' settles it?"

Hearing that, Oliver knit his brows, impatient. "Enough, Marianne! Don't throw a good offer back in my face. You just want money, right? I'll add another million. Five million! Sign a statement giving up the spot and this is over. Stop dragging it out!" Then his gaze slid over to Frank, who was holding his fury in.

"Director James, I hear your son's looking to buy a place for his wedding? Here's an idea. That riverside penthouse our family developed, I'll sell it to you at half price. Call it a favor from me. What do you say you take it and back off?"

The moment the words were out, Frank's face went black as the bottom of a pot.

He was so angry he couldn't get a word out, and nearly passed out on the spot.

But Oliver thought he'd hit the nail on the head.

He arched an eyebrow at me, smug, as if to say, "See? I've even bought off the official. What kind of waves do you think you can make? Better quit while you're ahead."

Watching that brain-dead act of his.

I really couldn't hold it in anymore, and it came out of me right there.

This Oliver had probably been spoiled stupid by the Gilbert family.

Really believed money moved mountains, that everyone had to revolve around him?

And when he talked, did he give no thought at all to where he was?

Was this the kind of thing you could just say out loud in front of everyone?

"Oliver, do you know who my father is?" I leaned back against the sofa and spoke slowly.

Oliver blanked for a second, then let out a scornful laugh. "Your dad's just some broke wage worker, isn't he? What, you want to trot your dad out to lean on me? Play the whose-father's-bigger game? Would you stop being ridiculous?"