**Chapter 64** Avery was resolute; nothing would convince her to relinquish the inheritance her father had entrusted to her. The thought of letting it slip through her fingers was unfathomable, a betrayal she could not entertain, no matter the provocation. Her voice dripped with defiance as she faced Elliot. Yet, instead of recoiling, he found amusement in her fervor. “What’s got you grinning like that?” Avery snapped, brow furrowing at his expression. “Just you,” he replied, his tone laced with mockery. “So self-righteous, so arrogant—you’re quite literally digging your own grave.” She could barely withstand his jab; self-righteous, sure, but what did he mean by digging her own grave? “Return to your room! Just seeing you makes my head spin,” she retorted, exasperation evident in her voice. The air shifted, Elliot’s expression darkening like a brewing storm. His voice fell to a deep, menacing whisper. “I’ve done nothing wrong. That headache of yours must be due to your own sickness,” he shot back, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Isn’t there a family doctor on call? Should I ring him for you?” She crossed her arms, indifference coating her words. “Get lost!” Elliot growled through clenched teeth. Frustrated, Avery stormed back to her room, her thoughts swirling in chaos. She shut her laptop with a decisive snap and flung herself onto her bed, the weight of her emotions nearly suffocating. Her heart, once so firmly tethered to Cole, had long since severed its bond. The mere thought of him lingered as an aftertaste she couldn't shake off. Cassandra’s call was the catalyst that dredged up dormant feelings she wished to forget. Cole, the gambler, the risk-taker—now an echo of danger and disappointment. Every shared memory now felt tainted, moss-covered, like an abandoned relic. How had she allowed herself to become so entangled in a fantasy? It was as if she had been trapped in a twisted reality show, far removed from authentic emotions and encounters, living a lie. The turbulent storm of her thoughts eventually lulled her into an uneasy sleep. At the stroke of 2 a.m., a sleek car slid into the driveway of the Foster mansion, the silence of the night shattered by the arrival. Mrs. Cooper, roused from her slumber by a persistent bodyguard, sprinted to the living room, her heart racing at the unsettling sight of Rosalie’s fiery countenance. “Bring Avery Tate down here!” Rosalie’s voice sliced through the air like a knife, fierce and commanding. Without hesitation, Mrs. Cooper darted towards the guest room. Five minutes later, a disheveled Avery emerged, groggy but immediately alert as the tension in the room ensnared her senses. “I thought you were just a naive girl,” Rosalie spat, trembling with rage. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time! You dated Cole? Why didn’t you confide in me? If I had known, I would never have agreed to this ridiculous arrangement with Elliot!” Avery met Rosalie’s furious gaze with an icy calmness. “Nobody asked me how I felt; I was merely a pawn in your game. If you’re upset that the piece you chose was flawed, that’s a burden you must bear.” With that, Rosalie surged to her feet, confronting Avery with a trembling resolve. “Fine, say what you will! But how do you explain the mess with Cole tonight?” “What mess?” Avery shot back. “Are you blaming me for his gambling troubles?” Rosalie faltered at Avery's retort, her anger faltering as the truth rang clear. “You know full well that he wouldn’t be in this position if he hadn’t courted trouble himself. Instead of guiding him, you prefer to lay the blame at my feet. Is simply being associated with the Foster family a sin in your eyes?” Avery's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, emotions threatening to spill over. Rosalie, her temper boiling over, delivered a sharp slap across Avery’s cheek, the sound cracking through the air like thunder in a silent night. Pain ignited across Avery’s face; yet beneath it smoldered a burgeoning hatred. “Yes, I did frame Cole,” she declared coolly, her voice steady as she stared into Rosalie's eyes. “He betrayed me, and trust me, I wanted my revenge. As for grandchildren? If I’m with Elliot, you can forget that dream.” Encouraged by her boldness, Rosalie raised her hand once more to strike, but in a twist of fate, her strength evaporated, and she collapsed onto the couch, leaving Avery staring at her in shocked silence. Before Avery could react, the gentle presence of Mrs. Cooper rushed to Rosalie’s side. Elliot appeared at the top of the stairs, his silhouette contrasting sharply against the dim light of the mansion, draped in a gray silk robe, his expression a mask of cold authority. For a fleeting moment, Avery bristled at the idea of facing him, a response she wished she could suppress. Not now, she thought, not now.