Hearing Summer say with great excitement that the signing process had gone smoothly, Diana's heavy heart—which had felt like a cloud saturated with rain—finally lightened a bit.
Aurora reached out to feel her forehead. "Why do you look so terrible? You're pale, almost ghostly. Are you sick too?"
"No, I just didn't sleep well last night." Diana turned her head away to avoid the touch. "Maybe it's just my fair skin; it doesn't show much color."
"Give me a break!" Aurora withdrew her hand, intentionally putting on a stern face. "I know you have superior genes, but stop using your 'porcelain skin' to flex on my yellowish-tan complexion."
"I'm not." Diana was amused by her antics. After a few playful quips, the gloom between her brows finally dissipated a little.
Forcing the ill but hardworking Aurora back to the hospital for rest, Diana dived headfirst into the resumes sent by the headhunting firm.
When the family business split, Alexander Stone had acted like a looter, stripping away the entire administrative team and the existing management system. He thought he had taken the "brain," but he forgot that Aurora held the "backbone" of the company—the fiercely loyal technical experts. As long as the core code remained, the company known as Snow still had a chance to breathe, even if it currently resembled a hollowed-out skeleton.
Hiring was their only lifeline now.
Time flies when one is busy. It wasn't until dusk began to settle that Summer, bag on her shoulder, poked her head through the door. "Young Mistress, not leaving yet? Those clouds are getting thick; there's bound to be a heavy rainstorm soon."
"I'll leave after finishing this," Diana replied without looking up.
But when the entire floor was silent except for the clicking of her cursor, she looked out the window. The sky was pitch black, like some giant beast about to swoop down. That suffocating feeling instantly reminded her of the oppressive corridors of the Knight family old mansion and Maya's eyes, which were always filled with scrutiny and coldness.
That home... she truly couldn't go back, nor did she want to.
Ultimately, she pushed open the glass doors of "Blue Night." Heavy metal music flooded her ears like a tide, and men and women in the dancing pit were frantically chasing dopamine amidst shifting shadows. Diana sat at a corner of the bar and ordered an Absinthe special called "Polar Night."
The spicy liquid burned its way down her throat, making her eyes sting slightly.
"Hey beautiful, drinking alone is no fun. How about I join you for a toast?"
A greasy male voice sounded in her ear, followed by the scent of cheap cologne. Diana didn't even lift her eyelids, her fingertips whitening as she gripped her glass.
Seeing her ignore him, the man grew more aggressive. He leaned against the bar, shaking his wrist to show off a gold Rolex that looked like it was desperate to blind someone. "Don't be so cold. Let's be friends. This round is on me; order whatever you like."
Diana finally turned her head, her gaze as cold as a blade. "No need to buy me a drink. Use the money to buy a mirror and look at yourself instead."
The man's smile froze, replaced by an indignant snarl. "What are you acting all pure for? Anyone hanging out in a place like this—who's cleaner than who?"
As he spoke, his fleshy hand reached for Diana's slender arm.
"Don't touch me with your filthy hands," Diana's voice was frigid, her fingers already quietly reaching into her bag for her pepper spray.
"Heh, I think I'll touch you anyway!"
Just as the man was about to lash out, a well-defined hand suddenly reached out from the side, firmly catching his wrist. The strength was immense, making the man yelp in pain instantly.
"Having a bit too much fun, aren't we?" Julian leaned in with his trademark nonchalance, smiling like a fox. "Looking for a partner? Want to go upstairs and 'practice' with me?"
The moment the previously overbearing man saw Julian, his knees nearly buckled. "Julian? It's a misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding!"
Diana's heart tightened. She subconsciously looked behind Julian for William. She didn't see him, but she did collide with a pair of bottomless dark eyes.
Jasper Sterling was leaning lazily against a nearby pillar, an unlit cigarette between his lips, watching as if it were a cheap silent play. His face was written with a cold indifference that said "don't expect me to save you," even tinged with a bit of playful mockery.
Diana looked away self-deprecatingly. She knew that if Julian hadn't been there, this man would probably have handed the thug a rope just to see how she'd struggle.
Julian shoved the man's hand away, disgustedly pulling out a tissue to wipe his own. "Misunderstanding? I don't think so. This is William's precious sister. You think you can lay a hand on her?"
His smile vanished, replaced by a lethal glare. "Get to the men's room and kneel. Wait for my people to come teach you some manners. You've got a death wish, trying to touch a member of the Knight family on my turf?"
The two men scrambled away, practically crawling into the crowd.
"Let's go, Diana, come upstairs and sit for a while," Julian returned to his carefree self. "Your brother is home 'playing dead' with a fever. If he knew you were being harassed at my place, he'd tear the roof off."
Diana couldn't refuse and followed the group toward the second-floor VIP lounge.
The lighting in the stairwell was dim. To create an atmosphere, the steps were covered in extremely thick foam carpeting. Diana's mind was preoccupied with William's illness; distracted, her thin heel caught in a gap in the carpet.
Her body tilted backward by inertia. She let out a startled cry, expecting a nasty fall, but her waist was suddenly caught in a firm, warm embrace.
A large hand steadily supported her. Through the thin fabric of her clothes, the heat from his palm almost scorched her skin.
Diana scrambled to regain her footing and turned around, bumping into Jasper's half-smiling eyes. They were so close she could smell the faint scent of cedar on him, mixed with a hint of tobacco—intensely aggressive.
Her heart skipped a beat. Her voice was slightly strained. "I'm sor—"
Jasper briskly withdrew his hand, as if that support had merely been a way to push an obstacle aside. He let out a scoff, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Spare me the apology. If William knew you couldn't even walk straight, he'd probably get you a baby walker."
Diana was left speechless. she stepped aside to clear the stairs for him.
Once the group of socialites entered the lounge, the topic quickly shifted from luxury cars and watches to business talk. Diana held a bottle of fruit beer Julian had specifically ordered for her, quietly shrinking into the corner of a single-seater sofa.
The sofa was large, and Jasper sat to her right. His posture was completely relaxed, long legs crossed, his slender fingers tracing the rim of his glass.
"Hey, did you hear? William got sick this time, and that Carter Missy who just won Best Actress was so worried she rushed back from the film set overnight to take care of him. Truly devoted."
"What's the use of devotion? Which woman isn't devoted to him?" Julian tossed an ice cube into his mouth, mumbling, "William's temperament... he's only gentle on the surface. He had someone send her back to the airport first thing this morning without even seeing her. This news will probably hit the trending searches tomorrow."
Diana listened, mechanically swallowing a mouthful of the cloyingly sweet drink. These romantic entanglements never had anything to do with her, the "sister."
"Speaking of which, did Diana bring a boyfriend back after all those years abroad?" someone suddenly changed the subject.
Diana's hand tightened around the bottle. Feeling a phantom gaze from the man beside her, she looked up calmly and replied softly:
"I did."