Chapter 518: Goodbye, Julian, Goodbye

“You’re looking pretty good,” Veronica said with a smile. “Better than I expected.”

Julian grunted in acknowledgment. “The food in the detention center is mediocre, but the only good thing is the routine.”

“And at least you got to kick the drugs,” Veronica said with a shrug. “That’s got to be good for your body.”

“Hahaha,” Julian let out a dry laugh. “That’s true enough.”

“What about you?” he asked, a bit of urgency in his voice. “How have you been?”

“Me… same as always,” Veronica said casually. “After you were gone, I changed the curtains. The old ones, the off-white ones, had a red wine stain you made that just wouldn’t wash out, no matter what I did.”

“Sorry,” Julian said.

“It’s fine. I wanted to change the color anyway,” Veronica said. “I switched to a gray-blue. They look much better when the morning light shines through.”

“Yeah,” Julian said. “What else? Tell me something else.”

“Let me think… Oh, that Vietnamese place downstairs from my apartment that we used to love,” Veronica tapped her forehead. “The owner moved recently. Moved out to Brooklyn.”

“That’s a real shame,” Julian clicked his tongue. “I quite liked that owner. He was a funny guy.”

“Yeah, but he said the rent in the Upper East Side has gotten more and more expensive lately. He couldn’t afford it anymore,” Veronica said, looking rather vexed. “There are fewer and fewer good restaurants in the Upper East Side.”

Julian smiled but didn’t say anything more, just listened as Veronica continued.

“What about your life?” he asked. “After I was arrested, the police didn’t give you any trouble, did they?”

“It didn’t come to that,” Veronica paused for a moment, waving her hand. “My life is the same as always.”

“Although, I did recently meet a young guy who’s into cryptocurrency,” she said. “He was going on about all this messy stuff like blockchain, crypto, NFTs… told me some string of dozens of digits in his wallet was worth tens of millions of USD.”

“So I told him that talking about all this counted towards his time, and only then did he frantically start taking off his pants, his—”

“Okay,” Julian said. “You don’t need to tell me about that.”

“Oh.”

The two of them sat in silence for a while, separated by the glass.

“I…” Julian paused. “Do you remember what I said before?”

“You’ve said a lot of things, Julian,” Veronica said. “Far too many.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“You mean about wanting me to marry you?”

“Yes,” Julian stared at Veronica. “Without a prenup.”

Veronica sighed.

“What’s the point of talking about this now?” She looked at the graying hair at Julian’s temples. “You’re going to be in for at least fifteen years of—”

“Twelve years,” Julian cut Veronica off. “With good behavior, and if I pull some strings, eight years isn’t impossible.”

Veronica paused.

“I have at least eight million USD in assets overseas,” he said. “Eight million USD. That can buy at least 16,000 hours of your time. Even if you work eight hours a day—and we both know you can’t—that’s enough to buy you out for 2,000 days. I just want eight years of your time.”

“Eight million USD for eight years,” Veronica sighed. “Julian, that’s a losing deal. You know I’m not worth that much.”

“Non-standard goods don’t have a standard price,” Julian paused. “If I think it’s worth it, then it’s worth it.”

“And I think you’re worth it.”

“Do you know about the psychological concept called ‘transference’?” Veronica said. “Transference is when a client in a long-term therapeutic relationship mistakes their dependence on and trust in the therapist for love. You think you’re in love with me, but really, you just feel that I reflect you well. You don’t need me; you just need me so you can see yourself.”

“No,” Julian retorted. “It’s not like that. This has nothing to do with transference.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’ve been in here for four months,” Julian said. “The lights in here are on 24 hours a day. I thought I would think about a lot of things—about JPMorgan Chase, about asset portfolios, about that smug look on Damon’s face. But do you know what I ended up thinking about?”

Veronica stared at him.

“I thought about your eyes. I thought about how you like to use your middle finger to flick the ash off your cigarette, not your ring finger,” Julian said.

Veronica was silent.

“How long have we known each other? Three years, right?” she asked. “How many times have you seen me?”

“I can’t remember. At least a hundred times.”

“Yeah, I can’t remember either,” Veronica tilted her head to look at Julian. “But it’s been at least a hundred times.”

She stared at Julian, a flicker in her eyes of something he couldn’t quite name.

“I’ll ask you a question,” she said, staring at Julian. “If you can answer it, I’ll agree to your proposal.”

“Go ahead,” Julian blurted out.

“What’s my name?” Veronica said. “I’ve told you more than once that my real name isn’t Veronica.”

“Of course. Your name is—”

Julian opened his mouth, but his mind went blank. He couldn’t say it.

“You see?” Veronica smiled. “You never even asked my name. So, have you ever asked my age?”

Julian’s lips moved, but he couldn’t say a word.

Veronica let out a soft laugh.

“Goodbye, Julian.” She rose gracefully. “Goodbye.”

She gently placed the receiver back on its cradle, stood up, straightened her trench coat, and turned to walk out.

As she walked out the gate of the detention center, the cool late-March wind blew past, scattering a few loose strands of hair tucked behind her ear.

She didn’t look back, walking without stopping until she was near the parking lot.

She took her keys out of her bag and unlocked a BMW 7 Series.

BMW was her favorite brand; it had the best handling.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford a Porsche or a Ferrari; she just felt they were a bit too flashy.

‘In our line of work, it’s better to be a little more low-key.’

Stepping into the car, Veronica caught sight of her own eyes in the rearview mirror.

“It’s just transference,” she muttered to herself, then started the car.

…

A few more days passed. It was now late March.

Manhattan’s winter was finally showing signs of loosening its grip. Although it was still far from warm, at least the biting, knife-like wind of the previous months was gone.

「A little after 11 a.m. on Madison Avenue.」

Li Wei and Elizabeth were walking side-by-side on the sidewalk.

Li Wei wore a denim jacket, and Elizabeth was in a long trench coat, cradling a hot oat milk latte in her hands.

Passersby occasionally recognized Li Wei, but most pedestrians in Manhattan were used to seeing celebrities and socialites. For the most part, they would just raise their phones for a quick picture from a distance or wave a greeting at him.

“…I’ll leave tomorrow after attending Alexander Mellon’s birthday banquet,” Li Wei said casually while waving to a passerby. “I’ll probably stay there for a few days, then come back after the audition.”

“Looking for investment?” Elizabeth asked. “The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation’s annual investment budget for the arts is frighteningly high. I have one vote now, so I can get your project tens of millions, maybe even a hundred million.”

Li Wei thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“Better not,” Li Wei mused. “I’m not sure I can make back the investment. It’s hard to say.”

“Not very confident in yourself, are you?” Elizabeth said with a smile. “I have a lot of faith in you. I’m sure you can make a profit.”

“I haven’t even gotten the part yet… Turn right!” Li Wei pointed. “By the way, what are you planning to get him for his birthday?”

“…”

“You still haven’t decided?” Li Wei glanced at Elizabeth beside him.

“That’s why it’s so annoying, because I can’t decide,” Elizabeth said, chewing on her already mangled straw. “It feels awkward no matter what I think of. I’ve been trying to pick something with both value and meaning. What do you think about a Patek Philippe? The brand’s slogan and the birthday wishes fit well together.”

“A basic Patek Philippe is meaningless, and a collector’s piece is a bit too extravagant,” Li Wei considered. “Besides, there’s another issue. Won’t giving him something that can just be bought with money make him think you didn’t put any thought into it? …We’re here. This is it.”

“But aren’t you just giving him red wine?” Elizabeth retorted.

“Because I’m not his granddaughter,” Li Wei shrugged and pushed the door open. “I’m a guest. Something appropriate is good enough for me to give him.”

The two entered a wine shop. Li Wei picked out an auction-grade bottle of Burgundy, worth a little over 10,000 USD, as his birthday gift for Alexander Mellon.

“Ugh, come on, help me think of something,” Elizabeth said with a coquettish pout, stomping her foot as she watched Li Wei take the wine from the shop owner. “I need to have it ready today.”

Li Wei turned to look at her and said with a smile, “Let me think… Why don’t you prepare something that strengthens your family bond?”

“?”

Elizabeth froze, hesitating. “But my grandfather is a cold-blooded animal. If he had to, I feel like he’d throw me to the lions. Family affection won’t work on someone like that, right?”

“It’s worth a try,” Li Wei said, thinking she was exaggerating. “Besides, you’re his second-in-command now. Giving him something that expresses your family bond will show him you’re a family-oriented and sentimental person. It might put him more at ease.”

“…You have a point,” Elizabeth paused. “I know what to get.”

…

The next day, Elizabeth got into Li Wei’s Cullinan.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” Li Wei said, looking at the photo album in Elizabeth’s hands. “A little nostalgia for the old days.”

“It took me forever to find these—some pictures of him holding me when I was a child,” Elizabeth said wistfully, stroking the album cover. “He’s probably long forgotten about that time.”

“What did you look like as a kid?” Li Wei asked curiously. “Can I see?”

“No!” Elizabeth clutched the album to her chest. “Just focus on driving.”