"I have something to do today; I can't attend." Addison's voice was cold and hard, her face equally icy. "Addison, just come to the party. Do it for me, please?" Marilyn's voice held a pleading tone, soft and humble. She knew very well that Addison's claim of having something to do was just an excuse to avoid the event. Addison didn't respond, maintaining her earlier cold stance, clearly keeping her distance. Marilyn half-sat on the bed, propped up by one arm, barely managing to remain sitting. Although her mental state seemed fine, her physical condition was clearly deteriorating. She raised her eyes, staring directly at Addison. The elderly woman repeated her request, but this time her voice was even weaker. "Addison, please, just do this for me." There was no response. Addison merely stared at Marilyn with a detached expression. She noticed how much more frail Marilyn looked. Her usually rosy lips were now completely pale. Her face was ashen, making her look vulnerable and heart-wrenching. In her heart, Addison thought about how she'd remind Lana to make more nourishing soups for Marilyn when she left—her condition clearly wasn't good. But then, Marilyn's next words caught her completely off guard. "My days are numbered anyway." Upon hearing this, the cold indifference Addison had been maintaining faltered slightly. She lifted her gaze to look at Marilyn, her eyes darkening. Her days are numbered? After saying that, Marilyn didn't look at Addison again. Her gaze drifted to the window, her emotions unreadable. Addison couldn't understand. But she didn't ask, unsure whether Marilyn was telling yet another lie. Addison didn't want to break the fragile calm she had managed to keep. Marilyn's voice was one of sorrow. "I'm just an old woman, living on medication, with no one to talk to ... I know my body. I don't have much time left."I just want to see the family be alright before I go." Addison spoke up, "Virginia will take care of the family and keep you company." Marilyn shook her head, her voice tinged with disappointment and, if you listened closely, an edge of contempt. "I won't let Virginia marry into the family. "If she did, I'll suffer more and my health will worsen. Addison, I'm sure you understand. Can you bear to watch me fall apart because of Virginia?" Addison pressed her lips together. She had her own concerns, perhaps even more than Marilyn. She had known for a long time what would happen if Virginia married into the Johnstons. But she had done everything she could. She had warned Lance many times about Virginia's true nature. However, the radiance of his perfect image of Virginia had completely overshadowed all of her flaws. Lance couldn't see it. Or even if he did, he pretended not to. Could she stop him? Could she really stop him? Addison lowered her gaze to Marilyn, who looked utterly worn out, her heart a swirl of conflicting emotions. Marilyn withdrew her hand from where she had been propping herself up, trembling slightly as she tried to rise from the bed. Addison instinctively reached out to steady Marilyn, but as soon as her hand moved, she realized what she was doing. She quickly withdrew it and clenched her fist at her side. Marilyn stood, grabbing Addison's hand. "Addison, I'm begging you." She had decided to let go and give Addison space. If Addison wanted a divorce, then so be it. Lance was the one who didn't deserve such a good wife. If Addison didn't want to have anything to do with the Johnstons anymore, Marilyn would respect that and avoid contacting her. But now, she had come to a realization. Addison's heart was clearly still with Lance. It was Virginia's arrival that had put Addison in this difficult position. She couldn't stand by and watch Virginia take Addison's place. If Addison was too kind to make a move, then she must step in to take the initiative. "Come to Steven's 70th birthday party. It will help the family maintain our dignity. Can you imagine—on such a day, Steven's granddaughter-in-law doesn't show up? What will people think?" Marilyn's eyes were pleading, and she was on the verge of kneeling in front of her.Addison frowned, her heart tightening as she watched Marilyn's desperate expression. Finally, she relented. "I'll go. I'll go. Please, sit down." For a brief moment, Marilyn looked stunned, but then a smile spread across her face. "Are you sure?" Addison feigned a stern look. "Never mind, I won't go then." "No, no, no, we need you." Marilyn's smile grew, and even her weary face seemed to brighten a little. "Lana, hurry up and bring something for Addison to eat!" "I'm thinking ... Addison, you didn't bring a dress; what will you wear tonight?" Marilyn's demeanor shifted, now focused, as she thought hard. "I'll have someone send something over for you to choose from!" Addison shook her head. "It's fine; I'll have someone send it over." "You're having someone send it? You're a young woman; life isn't easy for you. How can I let you spend money on a dress?" Marilyn suddenly seemed to remember something else. "Did Lance send you money? Do you have enough to live on? Have you been eating properly?" She reached out to touch Addison's hair. "You look thinner. You weren't eating well when you were with us. Have you been eating properly recently? Or is it your mood? "When you're feeling down, you can't sleep well. Did you sleep okay last night?" Marilyn's words were full of concern, each sentence landing heavily in Addison's heart. At that moment, Addison's emotions were complicated. It had been so long since anyone had shown her this kind of care. Marilyn's words filled her with a warmth she hadn't felt in ages, and her eyelashes fluttered lightly. Addison turned her head away, unable to meet Marilyn's eyes, which were full of concern. In the evening, at the Johnston Residence. Steven liked things old-fashioned, while Marilyn preferred a more modern, bold style. The Johnston Residence was a perfect blend of both—rugged elegance and subtle charm mixed seamlessly. The white stone corridors and courtyards symbolized the grandeur of nature, while the softer, more graceful touches revealed an air of refined beauty. Guests moved between the banquet hall and other areas."The Johnstons definitely live up to their name; their parties are always extravagant! This is the first time I've seen a house this big. The courtyard outside? It looks like something from the past!" "Well, it's Steven's 70th birthday. Can you expect anything less? Don't you know the family status in Halton?" A man looked at the speaker as if they were an idi*t. He grabbed a glass of wine and added, "This is the most luxurious party Halton has seen in years." ... Outside, Virginia stepped out of the car, holding her elegant dress. She lightly placed her hand on Lance's arm, her excitement barely hidden. This was the chance she had to fight tooth and nail to secure. She was determined to seize it. Lance stood beside her, his movements refined, his noble demeanor evident with every step. With Virginia's arm linked through his, they walked toward the hall. Just before they entered, Lance paused at the door. His expression was conflicted, as if deep in thought. "Lance, aren't we going in?" Virginia noticed that something was off. Lance snapped back to the present, lowering his head. "Let's go in." He had only been thinking about the promise he made to his grandfather—a promise made with the Johnston Enterprises CEO title as the price. But he had given Addison a chance; it was her choice not to come. What could he do? And besides, she had been sneaking around behind his back. How could a woman like her deserve to show up at his grandfather's party? With those thoughts, he continued walking. Virginia, noticing Lance's return to his usual distant demeanor, smiled brightly, walking by his side.