A cold moonlight draped over the office building. As Diana Bell dragged her exhausted body out of the main entrance, the silence of the night was shattered by the sharp vibration of her phone.
She swiped the screen open with heavy eyes. The bright red "1" on the WhatsApp icon felt particularly piercing in the dead of night. She tapped on the new contact request, only to see a profile picture so minimalist it bordered on chilling: a solid black background with a single, blood-red rose standing lonely on the right side.
The sender's nickname was just one character: Seven. The verification message was equally laconic: [It's Seven]
"Seven?" Diana searched her memory quickly but couldn't find a single trace of the name. In an era where telemarketing scams and spam were rampant, she usually ignored such cryptic requests without a second thought.
She was about to lock her screen and toss the phone into her bag when it vibrated again, almost frantically. [It's Seven] [It's Seven]
The same three words, now carrying an undeniable edge of impatience.
The last subway train was leaving in eighteen minutes, and she was still two kilometers from the nearest station. Diana looked down at her high heels and frowned—she didn't have time to play hide-and-seek with a mysterious "number."
With a practiced flick of her slender finger, she sent "Seven" straight into her blocklist.
Just as she started her hundred-meter dash, an unknown local number called. She intended to hang up, but her palms were sweaty from the rush; her finger slipped, accidentally hitting 'Accept.'
The other end was silent for a heartbeat before a deep, magnetic male voice came through, laced with a hint of resignation. "You blocked me."
Diana froze in her tracks. "...William? Is that you?"
"Yes," William Knight's voice crackled over the line, sounding even crisper through the speaker. "The man who just signed a marriage certificate with you but hasn't had the chance to add you on WhatsApp yet."
Diana's face flushed. She explained awkwardly, "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you. I thought it was one of those spam messages for tea sales or high-interest loans..."
"Can you let me out of the 'dark' now?"
Diana hurried to her settings, fishing that solid black avatar out of her blocklist and clicking 'Accept.'
"It's nothing urgent, actually," William said softly. In the background, she could faintly hear the muffled announcements of a Chinese airport. "I just wanted to let you know that things here are moving along smoothly. I'll be heading back early to see you."
His voice was like an old cello, vibrating against Diana's eardrum in the quiet night, making her heart skip a beat.
"I understand," she replied softly. Fearing she sounded too business-like, she bit her lip and added, "I'll be waiting for you."
After hanging up, she clutched the warm phone, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. Although they had agreed to a "respectful and independent" marriage, saying those words out loud made her feel like a young wife longing for her husband's return.
Before she could pull herself out of that strange mood, an uninvited guest blocked her path.
A flashy red BMW lurched to a halt in front of the office.
Boss Archer—a man notorious in the industry for his terrible reputation and a physique that resembled a horizontal oil drum—wobbled out of the car, his layers of fat shaking.
"Miss Bell! It's the middle of the night. It isn't safe for a lady to take the subway. Let me give you a lift."
To pull off this "ambush," Boss Archer had been lurking outside the building for hours in the sweltering midsummer heat. He was drenched in sweat, emitting a greasy, nauseating odor.
"What a coincidence! I just happened to be in the neighborhood and ran into you. It must be destiny."
Diana raised her eyes coldly. "Quite a coincidence. I just saw a pile of trash at the intersection when I walked out. I guess we're destined to see each other every day."
Archer's face stiffened, but he quickly grabbed a gaudy bouquet of red roses from the back seat, trying to shove them into Diana's arms. "I had these imported specifically. A single stem costs more than your daily wage. Take them."
Diana stepped back nimbly, covering her nose and mouth. "Boss Archer, I have a fragile constitution. I'm severely allergic to pollen. One touch could send me to the ICU. If you're looking for a manslaughter charge, feel free to take another step closer."
She punctuated the threat with two fake, violent coughs.
Archer's hand shook, and the expensive bouquet dropped onto the dusty pavement.
Diana tried to bypass him, but Archer darted back and forth like a headless fly. His murky eyes scanned Diana's body greedily, lingering on her curves as he subconsciously licked his lips.
The blatant malice made Diana's stomach churn.
"Diana Bell, don't push your luck!" Seeing that the "gentleman" act had failed, Archer bared his teeth. "I've been waiting for you in this heat for half the day. Stop playing the saint. I'm taking you home whether you like it or not!"
With that, his thick, meaty hand lunged for Diana's wrist.
The moment his fingertips were about to touch her skin, Diana's eyes went cold. She swung her heavy metal e-bike keys with all her might, slamming them into the back of Archer's hand.
"Aaargh!"
The scream pierced the night sky. Taking advantage of him doubling over in pain, Diana bolted.
"You little bitch! I'll kill you!" Infuriated and abandoning all pretense of civility, Archer chased after her, reaching out to grab Diana's long hair.
At the critical second, a dark shadow blurred past like a gust of wind.
Thud!
The two-hundred-pound meatball that was Boss Archer was literally lifted off the ground, kicked squarely onto the hood of his own BMW.
"Noah!" Diana cried out in relief.
Noah Bell landed steadily beside his sister, his lean, teenage silhouette looking exceptionally tall under the moonlight. He checked Diana over nervously. "Sis, did he touch you?"
"No, you got here just in time."
Only then did the murderous glare in Noah's eyes soften slightly. He turned around, grinding his foot into Archer's bloated face as the man struggled to get up. "You want to touch my sister? Have you counted how many lives you've got left?"
"It's a misunderstanding... all a misunderstanding..." Archer blubbered, his mouth bleeding.
"Misunderstanding my ass!" Noah landed a heavy punch. "Do you think I'm dead? Look at yourself in a mirror. Just standing near my sister, you're polluting the air!"
The boy delivered a few more ruthless kicks until Archer was curled on the ground like a dying dog. Noah brushed the dust off his hands.
He picked up the fallen keys and led Diana toward the pink electric scooter parked by the curb. The sight of a six-foot-two young man straddling a tiny scooter was comical, yet it gave Diana a profound sense of security.
"Hop on, Sis. Let's go home."
The night breeze took the edge off the summer heat. Noah's white shirt billowed in the wind like a protective sail, shielding her from the world's malice.
"How did you know I hadn't left yet?" Diana asked from the back.
"Telepathy," Noah said in his usual cocky tone, though he couldn't hide the concern in his eyes. "It was getting late. I was worried."
They arrived at their old, elevator-less apartment building. By the time they climbed to the sixth floor, both were soaked in sweat. The ancient air conditioner had long since given up the ghost, so Diana immediately turned on the fan and pointed it toward her brother.
"This weather is insane. Five minutes outside, two hours of sweating," Noah complained, tugging at his collar. "Sis, if I stay here any longer, I'm going to turn into charcoal-grilled Noah."
Diana looked at his heat-flushed face with heartache. "Maybe... you should go back to the Bell family's place? They have everything there."
Noah paused, then leaned his head playfully on his sister's shoulder. "No way. The Bells have gourmet food, but they don't have my favorite sister. That place is cold as ice. It's much cooler right here."
Since their grandmother was hospitalized, this tiny rented apartment had been their only sanctuary. Even though Noah was technically the young master of the Bell family, he would rather suffer alongside his sister than endure the cold faces of their relatives.
"You're too old to be acting like a baby," Diana laughed, pushing his head away, her eyes full of warmth.
"I'll still be acting like a baby with you when I'm eighty."
After their banter, Noah started placing his "order." "Sis, I want a beef feast tomorrow. Beef buns for breakfast, beef noodles for lunch, and stir-fry for dinner."
"Did you have a vendetta against cows in a past life?"
"They just happen to be delicious."
By the time Diana finished prepping the fillings in the kitchen and finally collapsed into bed, it was 2:00 AM.
She wasn't one to check her phone before sleep, but tonight, she felt a strange pull. she opened William's profile.
William Knight's Status and Updates were exceptionally clean. There were no snippets of daily life—only Knight Group financial reports or industry news. It was rational and cold, like a machine.
But as she scrolled, she couldn't help but remember the raw strength he showed when he saved her, and that seductive, low voice on the phone...
She sat up abruptly and gulped down a large glass of ice water to suppress the inexplicable heat rising in her chest.
Lying back down, she stared at the nickname and whispered to herself, "Seven... what does that even mean?"