Chapter 70 In an instant, the sparkle of admiration that had lit up Chelsea’s face flickered and faded into nothingness. “I can’t say it’s a certainty, but I’d wager I’m at least eighty to ninety percent sure of what I’m saying,” Charlie stated, his tone unwavering. “I kept this from you because we were on good terms before. Honestly, I thought his qualities might allow me to overlook this particular shortcoming.” A cold shiver danced down Chelsea's spine, and it felt as though a lifetime passed as her trembling fingers finally guided her wine glass to her lips. “He may have impressive qualities, but he’s carrying a hefty burden,” Charlie continued, indifferent as he deftly sliced his steak. “You shouldn’t put someone like him on a pedestal. The moment you consider marrying him, my concerns about your safety would grow tenfold.” Taking a deep breath, Chelsea murmured defensively, “I’m sure there must be a reason for his actions… I can’t believe he’s some kind of monster…” After a brief silence, she added, “I would know if he were beyond redemption. After all these years at his side, I know him inside out.” Charlie couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his sister’s naivety. “Let me remind you, there was a serial killer recently apprehended after eluding capture for over a decade. He lived a normal life and was hailed as honest and kind by those around him…” “Charlie Tierney, watch what you say!” Chelsea snapped, her voice rising in indignation. “I have my thoughts and opinions. This is none of your concern!” “I knew you wouldn’t take kindly to my critique of him, which is precisely why I kept my mouth shut all these years,” Charlie replied, feigning innocence. He shrugged nonchalantly, “But cling to your fantasies! If the day comes when you wake up, our family will be here, ready to welcome you back.” “I don’t need your pity! I’ve built my own life,” she retorted, the fire in her spirit flickering defiantly. “It seems Elliot Foster is treating you well,” Charlie teased, his eyes twinkling with mischievousness. Being the heir to the Tierney legacy, Chelsea had never requested a single cent from her family since venturing out on her own. “Regardless, he’s a remarkable boss. Even if he can never truly be mine, I remain steadfast by his side,” she declared boldly, raising her glass for a toast. “Here’s to your pursuit of Avery Tate! You’ve always succeeded in winning women over; may it be the same this time!” “I fully expect it will be,” Charlie said with a smirk as their glasses clinked together. A week later, Ben burst into Elliot’s office at Sterling Group, brimming with excitement over the latest buzz concerning Trust Capital. “Charlie Tierney has his eyes set on investing in Tate Industries, right? The word on the street is that Avery Tate hasn’t given him a firm yes just yet,” Ben grinned, his enthusiasm palpable. “I’ve heard he’s been seizing every chance to ask her out—dinners, hikes, even trips to the art gallery! He’s going all-in, but sadly, Avery has remained indifferent and brushed him off at every turn…” “Looks like Mr. Tierney finally met his match!” Chad chimed in, a hint of amusement in his tone. “He’s the classic Casanova—every girlfriend has been more stunning than the last, and they all adored him. Even after breaking up, he maintained good relationships with them. I’m shocked that Miss Tate isn’t falling for his charms!” Elliot’s expression darkened, a storm brewing behind his eyes. He found no humor in it at all. The thought of Charlie Tierney asking his wife out under the guise of “business” was not just disrespectful—it was an affront to everything Elliot held dear. “She’s been holed up at home for a week, nursing her injuries,” Elliot stated tersely. Both Ben and Chad halted in confusion. “What happened to her?” Elliot hesitated, drawing a deep breath as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “My mother hit her.” “What on earth? Was it because of that incident involving your nephew?” “Yes,” Elliot confirmed, his gaze drifting away from the screen of his laptop. He sipped his coffee bitterly, bitterness lacing his voice as he added, “She hasn’t uttered a single word to me all week.” “Did you attempt to comfort her after what your mother did?” Ben asked, a glimmer of concern in his voice. Elliot shook his head, bitterness gnawing at him. “What about a gift, something to lift her spirits?” Chad inquired. Again, Elliot simply shook his head. Both Ben and Chad exchanged exasperated glances. Any onlooker could see the reason behind Avery’s silence—she had no intention of talking to the man she was convinced would only serve her a divorce. “She’s looking for a way out. If I dared to ask her what she wanted, she would say a divorce;” Elliot’s voice dripped with despondency. “Anything I’d do to cheer her would be met with accusations of insincerity, that if I really cared, I should just let her go.” He found himself paralyzed, frozen in fear of action or word, knowing that all Avery wished for was freedom from him. A surge of sympathy washed over Ben and Chad. Elliot was undeniably superior to Charlie Tierney in every conceivable aspect, yet here he was, enmeshed in a web of his own making, his romantic life spiraling into chaos. In truth, one could trace this mess back to his lack of experience—wisdom often comes with practice, and those who have been through the trials and tribulations of love often find the second and third times around much easier to navigate.