Heirs and Hearts: The High Society Seduction

The Devil In Him

“Oh my gosh, I am sorry!” Agatha apologized as she spilled the wine over Arthur’s coat purposely. “I didn’t mean to do that… I am just really clumsy.” She tried to make an excuse.

She watched Arthur’s brows meet in annoyance. He looked at his Balenciaga drenched in stinking fermented grape juice. He smelled like rotten fruit now and there was nothing he could do to remove them.

Agatha tried to wipe off the wine using her tissue, “Here, let me help.”

She thought Arthur would let her help him wipe all of it but instead, he tried to push her away. It was sort of in her favor and a smile creeped out of her lips. The circumstances are now landing on her side and she is somehow relieved that the old man is irritated by her silly schemes.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I can take care of it.” Arthur raises his hands so Agatha will stop helping him.

“I guess you are annoyed.” She sounded helpless and sad so Arthur would not stop her once she wanted to leave.

“What? No, of course not!” He tried to redeem himself but she is already sticking with her original plan of leaving.

“The date is already ruined. Don’t worry, I’ll ask my father to send some money to compensate for that clothing.” Even though Agatha knew that they did not have enough money to pay for the damages.

“No, I will not ask you to pay for it. However, can you stay? I did not spend so much money for this date alone only for it to be canceled.” He said.

She tried her best not to show annoyance. He is too pushy to the point that she just wants to sedate him or punch him in the face until he falls asleep.

“No, I do not want my first formal date to be ruined, and it is my own doing as well. I apologize for the money that has caused you. If you would like, we can try to reschedule this date if you don’t want to let go of me that bad.” She held her head up high.

Arthur could only sigh, surrendering. “Alright then, I will call you once I sort things out. Can I get your cell phone number?”

“Sure.” Agatha pulled out her phone and gave Arthur her fake number. The same number that she uses whenever she is out clubbing.

“Let me drive you home.” He offered. “That is the least I can do for you.”

Agatha was further crept out. “No, I appreciate your offer, but I would like to refuse.”

Arthur could not do anything now. He watched Agatha storm out the door and never chased after her at all.

Agatha felt extremely cold under her bodycon dress. She forgot to bring some sweaters with her which immediately made the wind slip through her skin. She tried to call her mother so they would pick her up but to her demise, no one was answering.

She could only think that maybe, her father ordered her mother not to take any call from her. She knew how obedient her mom was and just one word would make her go kneeling to her father.

She could only sigh and hug herself as she walked down the streets. The lamps were getting gloomier and she didn't even know where she should go. Her feet are just walking by themselves with no concrete place or destination.

If she is not mistaken, this would be the first time that she is going to ride some random taxi alone. This is also the first time that her butler did not call for her so he could fetch her; Agatha could not get used to it.

She is foreign to her land. She doesn't even know how to properly sway her hands to call on the cab that is driving down the streets.

“f*****g drivers…” She whispered to herself. She cannot call one and they all seem to be ignoring her.

She kept on walking on the route that she was still familiar with. Her feet kept on moving until the buildings and the trees became strangers to her.

At last, Agatha got lost. Her cell phone has died and she doesn't know who to call. Even if there is a payphone, she still doesn’t know where to insert the coin she has in her hands.

She is hopeless.

Agatha found herself unable to discern any sign of oncoming traffic as she cautiously looked both behind and in front of her. Suddenly, a blinding light flashed before her eyes, momentarily impairing her vision.

As she approached the crosswalk, the traffic light flickered from red to green, signaling the pedestrians to cross. Without a second thought, Agatha stepped onto the black and white stripes, her gaze flicking to the left and then to the right.

Yet, just as her foot touched the pavement on the opposite side of the street, a sudden screech echoed through the air, and a sleek silver sedan appeared from nowhere, its tires burning rubber against the asphalt.

Time seemed to slow down for Agatha in that split second. Her heart leaped into her throat as she realized the car was headed straight towards her. Instinctively, she jumped back, her pulse pounding in her ears. The car swerved violently, tires squealing in protest as it narrowly missed her by mere inches. The rush of wind from its speed tousled her hair and the adrenaline surged through her veins.

Agatha stumbled backward, her eyes wide with shock as she watched the car careening down the street, narrowly avoiding other pedestrians who had frozen in their tracks. The driver, a blur behind the windshield, seemed oblivious to the chaos left in their wake.

As Agatha caught her breath and tried to steady herself, she became aware of a presence beside her. In front of her was a handsome, masculine man in impeccably tailored formal clothing—a suit that spoke of high-end fashion. He looked down at her with an air of arrogance, his expression almost dismissive.

Without a word, he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a sleek leather wallet. Agatha watched, bewildered, as he flicked it open with practiced ease and withdrew several bills. In a swift motion, he tossed them at her feet, the cash fluttering down like confetti.

Agatha's initial shock at the near miss with the car was replaced by confusion. She stared at the money on the ground, then up at the man who had thrown it. "What... what is this?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man's lips curled into a faint, smug smile. "Consider it compensation for the inconvenience," he replied coolly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Agatha felt a surge of indignation rise within her. She straightened her spine, clutching the bills tightly in her hand. "I don't need your money," she said firmly, her voice tinged with defiance. "And I certainly don't appreciate your attitude."

The man paused in his stride, turning back to look at her with raised eyebrows as if surprised by her boldness. "Oh? And what would you prefer, then?" he asked, his voice now tinged with mild amusement.

"I'd prefer some decency and respect," Agatha retorted, her words laced with a simmering frustration. "I don't know who you think you are, but throwing money at me like I'm some charity case is insulting."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the onlookers nearby, some nodding in agreement with Agatha's sentiments while others watched the exchange with curious interest.

The man regarded her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slight incline of his head, he said, "Very well," before turning away again and disappearing into the crowd, this time without another word.

Agatha stood there for a moment, her heart still racing from the confrontation. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, the bills crumpled slightly in her hand.

“Tsk… you just don’t know how hell of a wealthy family I had.” She tried to lie to herself as she whispered in the air.

Slowly, she unfolded the bills and counted them once more, then made a decision.

She approached a nearby homeless shelter she often passed by but never entered. She knew there were people there who could use this money far more than she ever could. She handed it over and decided to place it under an anonymous name.

She briskly walked out, determined to keep her helpful actions to herself, without seeking any recognition.

Suddenly, a voice behind her cut through the air, low and tinged with mocking amusement. "If money isn't what you want, how about a different offer? How much would you be worth for the night?"

Agatha froze, her breath catching in her throat. She turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as she faced the arrogant stranger once more. His smirk had widened, his gaze now openly assessing her with a mixture of pomposity and condescension.

Anger flared within Agatha, hot and fierce. "You're despicable," she spat, her voice trembling with a potent blend of rage and humiliation. "How dare you? How dare you presume to insult me like this?"

She can feel his gaze piercing her. From her head to her feet, until it is back in her eyes. “And you even waited, huh? How can you have so much time to spare?” Agatha laughed, trying to mock him back.

The man's smile faltered slightly, but he maintained his composed facade. "I merely thought you might appreciate a more... direct transaction," he replied casually as if discussing the weather.

Agatha's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I don't need your money. I don't need anything from you," she declared, her voice rising with every word. "You think because of what you wear and what you have, you can treat people however you want? Well, you're wrong. You're nothing but a shallow, pitiful excuse for a human being."

The man's facade cracked further, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "You're making a scene," he muttered, glancing around briefly as if suddenly conscious of the attention they were drawing.

"I don't care," Agatha retorted defiantly, her chest heaving with emotion. "Maybe this will teach you a lesson in delicacy and respect."

Agatha thought the man would be moved but instead, he slowly walked towards her. She tried walking backward, but he reached for her wrist and she froze down. He leaned closer to her ears and whispered, “I like the way you talk.”

“Excuse me?” She tried to pull away.

Agatha immediately became a ball of fire, her emotions threatening to explode. She couldn't handle such arrogance, and couldn't stand being treated like trash by someone who presumed superiority based on wealth and status alone.

The man's smirk faltered further at Agatha's words, his gaze narrowing with a mix of surprise and irritation. "You're quite feisty," he remarked coolly, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"And you're insufferable," Agatha shot back, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Who do you think you are?"

The man straightened his posture, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he composed himself once more. "Allow me to introduce myself properly," he said with a hint of mockery as if indulging in a game. "I am Elijah. Elijah Vincent Hugh. The eldest son of the man you are set to marry."

Agatha's heart skipped a beat, her mind reeling at the revelation. Hugh—a name synonymous with vast wealth and influence, a family known across the city for their business empire.

"You're... you're Elijah Vincent Hugh?" Agatha managed to say, her voice now tinged with disbelief.

"Yes," Elijah replied smoothly, his tone now tinged with a hint of smug satisfaction. "And you, I presume, are the soon-to-be wife of my father, who seems to have a penchant for turning heads."

Agatha's hands trembled—her recent engagement to a man whose family she had only just begun to understand, and now this encounter with his son, who epitomized everything she despised about entitlement and privilege.

"You've got it all wrong," Agatha said through gritted teeth, her voice low and intense. "I won't be treated like this, not by you or anyone else. You may have money, but you have no right to demean and belittle others."

Elijah's expression hardened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "You're overreacting," he replied dismissively, though there was a hint of unease beneath his facade.

"No," Agatha retorted fiercely, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I'm standing up for myself. And if this is how your family operates, then maybe I need to reconsider everything."

“Reconsider?” Elijah asked in disbelief. “Isn’t it that… you will marry my father because your family is now drowning in debt?”

Agatha couldn’t believe how Elijah almost killed her on the road and now, was throwing shameful messages at her.

“Tell me, Elijah.” She glared at him. “What is your deal with me?”