**Chapter 53** “Perhaps it is destiny,” Chad mused with a hint of irony in his tone. Charlie’s brow furrowed as he shot back, “That’s a cruel twist of fate for my little sister.” Chad leaned in a little closer, a flicker of candor dancing behind his eyes. “Forgive my bluntness, Mr. Tierney,” he said. “Chelsea is indeed a remarkable woman. Yet, despite the countless years she has devoted to Mr. Foster, he remains emotionally unavailable. Even if she dedicates the next thirty years to his side… it wouldn’t change a thing. He simply won't love her.” Charlie’s eyes glinted with a dark intensity as he responded with clipped civility, “I appreciate the reminder.” As twilight settled in, Elliot gathered the company’s managers for an extravagant dinner, aiming to celebrate yet another successful quarter. Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but the atmosphere soon shifted when Ben, ever the jovial spirit, coaxed Elliot out for drinks. Everyone was acutely aware of Elliot’s brooding demeanor, an undeniable cloud hanging over him that no one dared to address. Therefore, like a team of determined warriors, they rallied together to lighten his mood with ample amounts of wine. As the first hints of intoxication softened the edges of Elliot’s sharpness, Ben seized the opportunity to snatch his wine glass away. “You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet tonight. Isn’t it exhausting to bottle everything up?” He swapped the glass filled with dark red liquid for one brimming with juice. Elliot raised his slender fingers to his temples, rubbing gently as lethargy seeped into his bones. “Avery wants a divorce,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, heaviness cloaking his words. “Am I that pitiful?” A suffocating silence enveloped the room, as if time had suddenly stilled. How could anyone dare to label their accomplished boss as pathetic? Had Avery Tate lost her mind? Elliot Foster was a powerhouse—intelligent, driven, and with a charisma that could ignite any room. The line of admirers hoping for his affection would stretch from here to the South Pole. “What does everyone think of Miss Tate?” Chad asked, breaking the tension with a curious tone. “Just a typical college student,” Ben replied, then reconsidered, shaking his head. “Well, maybe not. She’s quite stunning. Chelsea has a lethal beauty, but Avery radiates that sweet and approachable girl-next-door charm.” “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Avery Tate! Should we invite her over?” one of the others chimed in, his voice laced with intrigue. Ben flicked a glance toward Elliot, who remained lost in his thoughts, fingers still pressed against his head. Feeling the weight of his friend’s distress, he pulled out his phone. “I’ll have Avery come pick you up, Elliot!” A sharp intake of breath escaped Elliot as his heart raced, but he remained silent, an unwitting agreement to Ben’s suggestion. Meanwhile, at the Foster mansion, Avery sat at her desk, deep in thought, revising her thesis. The shrill ring of her phone broke her concentration, and to her astonishment, the caller ID displayed Elliot’s name. However, when she answered, it wasn’t Elliot’s voice that greeted her. “Hello, Miss Tate. Are you available right now?” “Um, I’m not… Who is this?” Avery replied, heart thumping anxiously in her chest. “Elliot has indulged a bit too much this evening. Could you come and fetch him?” “Me? Surely he has a bodyguard for moments like this?” she questioned, surprise lacing her tone. “I doubt the bodyguard is inebriated as well.” The room fell into shocked silence, the weight of her words hanging palpably in the air. “The bodyguard isn’t with him tonight,” Ben clarified. “So, will you come?” Avery stood up, determination etching her features as she grabbed her coat from the hook. “Send me the address. I’m on my way.” Ben ended the call, relaying their location as he swiftly hung up. Approximately forty minutes later, Avery and the appointed driver arrived at the restaurant where Elliot and his friends had thrown caution to the wind in their revelry. As she stepped out of the car, the scene before her was daunting. A cluster of men loomed at the entrance, their gazes pivoting toward her with equal parts curiosity and bemusement. Her cheeks flushed, and instinctively, Avery tucked her chin into the protective collar of her coat, trying to ward off the attention. Ben, ever the facilitator, approached with Elliot unsteadily leaning on him. “Miss Tate,” he said earnestly, handing her Elliot as if he were a fragile object, “even if you don’t harbor feelings for him, please be gentle with his heart.” Avery nearly stumbled backward, the weight of Elliot’s presence almost causing her to drop him. “Hurt him?” she echoed incredulously, eyes wide. “If only I could! I just have no idea how to.” Her voice struck a chord within Elliot, awakening something fierce and raw. In an instant, he pushed away from Ben and turned, closing the distance until he had her pinned against the cold metal of the car. The air between them crackled with an unspoken tension, the world around them fading into a distant hum.