Fateful Contract：Play the Billionaire Player

Chapter 4 Matthew's Love

"Bro, you can have any girl you want. Why can't you just let go?"

Brandon leaned against the car door, nodding toward Agnes in her white racing suit. "You're engaged to Agnes Whitmore. A stunner like her chasing after you—what more could you want?"

Agnes' red hair fell in perfect waves, her figure accentuated in all the right places. With the sun glinting off her, she seemed to glow with an otherworldly radiance. Brandon let out an exaggerated "Wow," his eyes wide in mock awe. "Man, she's not just hot. She's the heiress of the Whitmore family. Total package."

Matthew watched Agnes in silence. Everyone else had gathered around her, eager for her attention. She barely acknowledged them, used to being the center of everything. Her head was tilted just slightly, her movements indifferent, like she didn't need to try—she was above it all.

'That's the difference,' Matthew thought.

Like the gap between royalty and commoners, even among the elites, there were layers—subtle but undeniable.

It wasn't just about money or power. In their world, legacy mattered. Heritage, bloodlines, old family names. The things that couldn't be bought or earned.

The legendary three great families—Whitmore among them—stood at the absolute pinnacle, beyond the reach of ordinary wealth. Centuries of history, their influence woven through every revolution, every major event. They didn't just control money. They shaped nations.

And the Whitmore family? They were the epitome of that unreachable world. They rarely interacted with outsiders, only hosting grand galas where attendance was a privilege in itself.

The last time the Whitmore family caused such a stir was two decades ago—when word got out that the heir was a girl, and they were searching for a "chosen" fiancé.

Families from everywhere had come to Whitmore Manor, hoping to secure that impossible honor for their sons.

Matthew, at just four years old, had been declared the chosen one. To the Fitzgerald family, still building their fortune, it was an unimaginable stroke of luck.

From that moment on, loving Agnes became Matthew's destiny. He'd been trained to adore her, to make her his world.

Every holiday, every special occasion, he'd pick out the finest gifts, send the most thoughtful messages, and plan one surprise after another. It had become second nature. Loving Agnes wasn't just something he did—it was who he was supposed to be.

Matthew lowered his gaze. He knew he was bound to love Agnes. But Emma...

Brandon's voice, casual and carefree, interrupted his thoughts. "You know, man, Agnes is pretty much every guy's dream girl. If she hadn't picked you, I'd be lining up for a shot."

Matthew's silence deepened, his face clouding over. Brandon, sensing the change, shifted the conversation. "Anyway, I've been meaning to ask—what does Emma like?"

Matthew's head snapped toward him. "What are you planning?"

"Relax, bro. You're done with her. Why are you so tense?" Brandon leaned against the car window, licking his lips. "I'm just thinking about having a little fun with her. Play with her feelings for a bit."

"I'd advise against it," Matthew said, his voice sharp. "Emma's not the type to fall for that. She's stubborn."

"And that's exactly why I think you did a great job." Brandon's grin stretched wider, his eyes flashing with mischief. He rubbed his neck, where the necklace Emma had ripped off still left a faint red mark. "You hurt her. Now I have an opening. I've got a reputation for a reason, man. I know how to get to girls like her."

"I told you—she's boring and too conservative," Matthew said, irritation simmering beneath the surface. "Go after one of those girls who actually want you."

"Where's the fun in that?" Brandon flicked his hair back, grinning like a predator sizing up its prey. "Emma's a challenge. Winning her over, sleeping with her, and then dumping her—that's where the real fun is. Watching her fall apart, seeing her beg, that's the thrill. Come on, you're not any different. You even gave me her necklace. Felt good, didn't it?"

'No, it's not the same.'

Matthew opened his mouth to argue, but a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.

"What are you guys talking about?" Agnes approached, her entourage trailing behind her. With a bright, flawless smile, she slipped into the passenger seat beside Matthew, her laugh light and carefree. "You'll take care of me, won't you?"

"Agnes," Brandon cut in before Matthew could respond, flashing his trademark grin. "He was just saying you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen."

*****

Emma had no idea what was happening back at the racetrack. By the time she reached the theater, the place was in chaos.

A new red carpet stretched across the entrance, with rows of sharply dressed men and women standing in perfect formation on either side. A limousine longer than her entire car was parked out front, making her car look laughably small in comparison.

The delay on the bridge had cost her precious time. Even though she had floored the gas pedal, it was already past 3 PM.

Emma sprinted around to the back entrance, slipping in through the staff hallway. She had barely made it halfway to the dressing rooms when she heard sharp, angry shouting from the stage. "You've wasted 13 minutes and 48 seconds of Madam Whitmore's precious time! According to the contract, you will face penalties for breach of agreement!"

Emma peeked around the corner, trying to get a sense of the situation. But before she could get a clear view, a hand clamped over her mouth, pulling her into the shadows.