"Tick-tock—"
"Tick-tock—"
Raindrops fell from the sloped roof beams, creating a rhythmic sound in the silence of the night.
On the second floor of the villa, a man in light gray pajama set stood on the dimly lit balcony, looking at the banyan tree in the garden outside.
"Fifth Brother, my balloon got stuck in the tree..." The sobbing voice of a little girl seed to clearly echo in his ears, and the image of the girl crying, pulling his hand to help retrieve the balloon from the tree, simultaneously appeared in his mind.
When she was little, she always called him Fifth Brother, seeking him out with troubles, for good food, and when bullied by Norman Sutton. When she made mistakes, afraid to tell others, she’d secretly confide in him and ask for his help...
And now, that dependent little girl had married, with soone else beside her to lean on.
Now, just hearing her call "Fifth Brother" seems precious.
"Cough, cough—"
Evan Sutton, who wasn’t skilled in smoking, choked on the smoke, squinted at the cigarette burning between his fingers, and slowly brought it back to his lips after coughing...
"The brother I always revered turns out to be a twisted psychopath."
Catherine Porter’s words were like an irresolvable curse, lingering in his mind.
And he didn’t know what Catherine Porter wanted by using this to threaten him.
Rembering Audrey Sutton’s questions about Catherine Porter, he felt there might be so connection; perhaps Catherine was targeting Audrey.
No matter Catherine Porter’s intent, he would never allow anything potentially harming Audrey Sutton to happen.
Three in the morning.
The light rain, accompanied by the night’s cold wind, slashed against the car window glass like a knife.
Miles Sterling bore marks on his face, left from a fight with Heath Holloway.
After finishing his cigarette in the car, he pushed the door open to step out, looked at his phone, and walked into the building.
In the elevator, he saw many unread WhatsApp ssages, sent by various girls, indistinct from each other.
Not in the mood to open these ssages, he cleared the contact page, watching the elevator number rise to his floor.
As usual, he pushed the door open, the dark, unlit living room filled with cold chill.
Changed into slippers, ready to go upstairs, he noticed the glow of orange-yellow light from the room corner downstairs.
He paused montarily, turned back, and walked toward that room door.
Without hesitation, he pushed the door open, seeing the bed linens piled ssily but no sign of Vanessa Sterling.
"Click—"
The sound of unlocking ca from the bathroom door, and then Vanessa Sterling erged.
At the sight of Miles Sterling, she was visibly startled by the unexpected presence, crouched by the bathroom door, unsure of how to react.
"Why aren’t you asleep yet?" Miles Sterling’s voice was cold, like a dorm supervisor checking rooms, with a hint of interrogation.
Vanessa Sterling pursed her lips and softly replied, "Using the bathroom."
Miles Sterling knew she rarely got up at midnight for the bathroom, scanning the room, seeing on the bedside table a steaming cup and nstrual pain dicine.
"Stomach ache?"
Vanessa shook her head without thinking, as if hiding her vulnerability and not wanting Miles to linger too long.
Words of concern stuck in his throat, unspoken, as he turned and left, the door slamming sharply, startling Vanessa, quickening her heartbeat.
Her physical discomfort left her little headspace for wandering thoughts. She settled back into bed, hugging a charged hot water bottle, turning off the room’s light.
Miles Sterling returned to his room, standing before the bathroom mirror.
With an unknown anger built up inside for a long ti, he suddenly raised his hand and punched the mirror hard.
"Bang—" and the sound of breaking glass pierced the quiet night.
The shards cut his hand, blood dripping onto the white basin, forming eerie patterns.
Miles watched his fragnted reflection in the shattered mirror, feeling more enraged, gripping his wounded hand tighter, with blood drops falling more rapidly...
...
Shane Warner had been busy dealing with Wallace Warner’s affairs, leaving the overseas work survey with Julian Bishop to Faye Xavier.
Faye had been feeling stifled these days, unable to vent the anger inside.
Initially confident he could find Jasmine Lucas’s whereabouts by now, but the woman seed to have vanished, with no leads from any channels.
Faye, who had planned his revenge, now felt a bit anxious.
In his life, he’d never suffered such frustration.
On the way to the airport, Julian Bishop and Faye sat in the back of the car, Julian always focused on his tablet, while the driver remained silent.
Faye looked around, nobody speaking, feeling more constrained inside.
"Mr. Bishop, don’t you get tired dealing with work all day?"
Julian paused, glanced at Faye, seeming a beat slow to react, pondering for a couple of seconds before replying, "It’s okay."
"Working during office hours is fine, but now it’s off-duty and you’re still with design charts, life is neither short nor long, better to enjoy the views outside."
Julian turned to look out the car window, seemingly contemplating Faye’s words or recalling sothing.
Faye curiously asked, "Mr. Bishop, do you have soone special?"
"Hmm?"
Faye chuckled, "Like a girlfriend, you’ve been at the company so long, never seen you with any woman, got a special soone abroad?"
Julian withdrew his gaze, with deep black eyes, silent for a mont before answering Faye, "No."
Faye continued asking, "What type do you like? I can introduce soone, knowledgeable, gentle and virtuous, or perhaps sexy and fiery, tall or short, slim or curvy."
Julian chuckled, seeming to thoughtfully consider it, yet replied, "I haven’t really thought about it."
"It’s ti to consider, Mr. Bishop. Even if not rushing marriage, experiencing romance is good, think carefully about preferences, I’ll introduce soone."
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