The 10th-floor restaurant of Black Rock Co. gleamed with polished floors that reflected the sparse movement of diners. The massive hall, capable of seating over a thousand, was spotless—its scale rivaling that of a five-star hotel.
As Janet stepped in, tray in hand, she couldn’t help but notice how many eyes were on her. In the past, no one ever paid her much attention—her style had always been mature and modest. But now, having shed that loose, boxy suit, her elegant dress accentuated her graceful, curvy figure. Her bare face, untouched by makeup, was strikingly beautiful—no wonder she was drawing so many looks.
As she searched for a seat, her gaze landed on a window-side booth where August, dressed casually in white, was sitting with his assistant. He looked up and gave her a bright wave.
Janet glanced around at the packed tables—finding an open seat would be tough. So, she made her way over to August’s table.
"August," she greeted politely and took the seat across from him.
Almost instantly, curious glances and whispers from the surrounding diners turned their way. It wasn’t clear if they were looking at her, at August, or at the two of them together.
It was rare to see someone like August—clearly from a privileged background—dining in the staff cafeteria. But what shocked Janet even more was what happened five minutes later:
A sudden stir broke out near the entrance. Moments later, Charles, in a sleek black suit, pushed through the glass doors and stepped inside.
The once-bustling hall fell completely silent, as if a king had entered court.
At the sight of Charles, department heads and managers quickly rushed forward with ingratiating smiles, bowing slightly as they exchanged pleasantries. But Charles remained cold, his face a mask of indifference.
His sharp gaze swept the room—and landed at a forty-five degree angle, squarely on Janet and August.
Janet’s hand, which had been holding a spoon, involuntarily trembled when she met that icy stare.
She hadn’t forgotten Charles’s warning. But she still couldn’t understand—why did he insist on controlling her every move? Was there some hidden grudge between him and August?
"Janet, are you alright?" August asked gently, seemingly unfazed by the heavy stare aimed in their direction.
As his hand brushed against the back of hers on the table, she turned quickly—startled—and her hand jerked. The spoon tipped, spilling soup right onto August’s hand.
"Oh no!" Janet gasped and hurriedly grabbed a napkin, dabbing at his hand while murmuring, "I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!"
As her fingers touched his palm, she noticed something unexpected—his hand was calloused, his fingers rough. Just like hers.
Her heart skipped a beat. Her impression of August began to shift again.
He wasn’t born into comfort and privilege, just as she hadn’t been. Despite his polished appearance, August was clearly someone who had earned his place the hard way.
"It’s fine, really," August said quickly, sensing the hesitation flickering in Janet’s eyes. He gently withdrew his hand, his handsome face still bearing the same calm warmth as before.
But the assistant sitting beside him looked utterly dumbfounded.
He knew full well that the newly-arrived August didn’t like women getting too close to him—not even his secretary dared to stand too near during briefings.
And yet... Janet had just touched him, and August hadn’t so much as flinched?
Meanwhile, Charles’s dark, brooding eyes were already burning with restrained fury. He stared unblinking at the pair of hands that had just been so intimately close.
His hand slipped into the pocket of his trousers with calculated ease, a single strand of hair falling from his temple and brushing against his brow—only adding to his rebellious, untamed aura.
His sharp gaze swept across the room, icy and precise.
Then, without a word, he turned and strode out, the tension in his retreat as loud as thunder.
Janet didn’t see Charles again for the rest of the afternoon, nor did she have any idea where he’d gone. It was as if his sudden appearance at the cafeteria earlier had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. She could never quite figure him out—what he was thinking, what he would do next.
Just as the workday was about to end, she suddenly received a call from Harold. She hesitated to answer at first, not wanting to hear his voice. But he was persistent, calling again and again. Even though she felt no affection for him, their blood connection bound them together in a way that was impossible to sever.
A crazy thought surged through her—if only she could purge the half of her blood that came from Harold, maybe then she could truly free herself from him.
Being his daughter... felt shameful.
Cornelia had never lived a single day of happiness. In her youth, she’d fallen for Harold, a married man, and was condemned and abandoned for it. When she was at her lowest, desperate and alone, Harold had chosen his legitimate family without hesitation. To Janet, a man who always prioritized his own interests—even at the expense of others—was simply pitiful. And now, once again, he was using her to fulfill his selfish needs. Whatever lingering warmth she’d once had toward him was now completely extinguished.
"Ternence is back. Janet, are you listening?"
Harold’s voice came through the phone sounding tired and full of helplessness. Janet heard it clearly. But what caught her breath was the name—Ternence Louis, the eldest son of the Louis family.
A warm current coursed through her heart.
In that family, the only one who had ever treated her with sincerity... was probably Ternence, who had gone abroad to study.
"Yes. I understand. I’ll come back tomorrow." Janet hung up before he could say more. Her hands, which had been tidying her desk, suddenly froze. She sat back down in her chair, her limbs weak.
Ternence. The only brother from the Louis family who had ever truly moved her.
When Elvira used to bully her relentlessly, without reason or restraint, Ternence would always be the first to step in and shield her. He’d scold his own sister sharply and say—
"Janet, in my heart, you and Elvira are both my precious little sisters..."
"As long as I’m here, no one can bully you..."
"Janet, your smile is so beautiful. Promise me you’ll always live with that smile..."
"I’m going abroad now, Janet. You have to learn to protect yourself. If Elvira hits you again, just tell me. When I come back, I’ll deal with her for you..."
A brother who could be that gentle and protective toward a half-sister like her—Ternence was the one reason Janet had managed to hold on for the past ten years. Aside from Cornelia, he was the only one who ever made her understand what real family love felt like...
She sat in a daze for a long time. It wasn’t until she walked out of Black Rock Co. that she suddenly remembered Robert’s request from the night before—her new "home"... and the husband who now waited for her.
Inside a black Spyker parked nearby, a man sat watching her intently as she boarded a public bus. For a moment, the urge overtook him—to drive up beside her, stop, and offer her a ride home, just like he had last night.
Because he knew—back at the Elwin estate, there were always eyes watching him.
He mustn’t push her too hard. Not yet.
August turned the car around and drove toward the bustling city center, where the neon lights illuminated the high-end apartment district. He parked in front of a luxurious garage, already housing a red Mercedes-Maybach.
"Darling, I’ve been waiting for you!"
As August pushed open the half-closed door, a devilishly handsome and alluring face immediately leaned toward him. Manfred’s tall frame was already pressing closer, his presence commanding.