The sound of a man's footsteps echoed through the entrance of a seven-star restaurant, an opulent establishment where the service was fit for royalty. The handsome man approaching forty drew the attention of nearly everyone in the room.
He had a broad, well-proportioned frame, a sharply defined nose, and thin lips. A hint of stubble along his chin and neck only added to his masculine appeal. His neatly styled black hair framed a face that rarely revealed what he was thinking.
Bryan took his seat at the table reserved for him.
"You're late."
The voice belonged to a woman only five years older than Bryan. Jennifer Rose was his stepmother—and had become a widow just a week earlier, after the death of Bryan's father. Beside her sat a young woman who had been staring at Bryan without blinking since he arrived.
"I've been busy, you know? Managing the company Papa left behind is exhausting," Bryan replied, a trace of sarcasm in his voice.
It was obvious that he disliked his stepmother. They had never been close, despite her five-year marriage to his father.
Mrs. Rose narrowed her eyes, irritation flickering across her face. She disliked Bryan just as much, but their social positions forced both of them to keep their tempers in check.
"You aren't getting any younger," she said. "And it's unlikely that I'll ever be able to give you a sibling. Especially now that your father's death has left me feeling so lonely."
Her voice was sweet, but the sweetness was clearly rehearsed.
Bryan's lips curled. He knew perfectly well that her words were nothing more than a calculated lie.
"And I have no desire for a sibling from you."
"You always have to be so rude to me."
"Should I be any different?"
Mrs. Rose held back her anger. This was not the right time to confront her stepson. Instead, she forced her smile wider and turned toward the young woman beside her.
"Let me introduce you to Lucy Mariel. She earned a master's degree in law in London and is currently establishing her own law firm."
"Hi. It's nice to meet you." Lucy smiled at Bryan without the slightest hesitation. "I'm Lucy, and I... I've liked you ever since the first time we met."
"What? Have we met before?" Bryan asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Yes. At your company's fiftieth-anniversary celebration. We even had a brief conversation." Lucy's cheeks flushed.
"I see. And?"
Mrs. Rose's smile sharpened.
"I was going to arrange your engagement—oh, I mean, host an engagement party for the two of you, followed by a grand wedding celebration, of course."
"What?"
"Bryan, we never know how long we have left to live, do we? That's why you need to continue your father's family lineage. I can't give you a sibling, so why don't you give me a grandchild instead? I may be too young to be a grandmother, but I'll be a loving one to your child."
Mrs. Rose delivered the words with a triumphant smile.
She was certain Bryan could not refuse the engagement. He had no girlfriend, and rumors had circulated for years that he had no interest in women at all. More importantly, this was her chance to secure the heir who would inherit Bryan's fortune—her own relative's child.
She had already made certain that her late husband's wealth would eventually fall into her hands.
Bryan said nothing. He merely lifted the wineglass waiting on the table and took a slow sip. The evening continued in silence, with Mrs. Rose believing she had won.
Elsewhere, a young woman with long hair ran through a crowded shopping center as though her life depended on it. Worn-out sneakers slapped against the floor while Angeline repeatedly checked the time on her wrist.
She clutched a paper bag containing an expensive dress from a famous boutique. Sweat dampened her face, and her disheveled appearance drew irritated looks from the people she passed. Angeline ignored them all. She could not afford to stop.
At last, she spotted a group of people waiting anxiously beside a performance area. Summoning the last of her strength, she hurried toward them.
"What took you so long? The event is starting in a few minutes!" the woman who had hired Angeline snapped. She had sent Angeline to collect the dress only ten minutes before the event was due to begin.
"I ran as fast as I could," Angeline replied between breaths. "If you'd asked me to pick it up five minutes earlier, I might have arrived sooner."
"I don't care. I've already paid you through the e-wallet."
The woman snatched the bag and disappeared into the venue without even a word of thanks.
Angeline checked her phone. When she saw that the payment had arrived, she smiled with relief. Then she sank onto a nearby bench, pulled out a bottle of water, and emptied it in one gulp.
She looked around at the people dressed in glittering gowns and elaborate makeup. Banners announcing a fan meeting for a Korean boy band hung throughout the shopping center.
"Why do they all look the same?" Angeline murmured.
She knew almost nothing about the entertainment world. Since her school days, she had been too busy working to follow celebrities or attend events like this.
For the past three months, Angeline had survived by taking whatever temporary jobs she could find. She had been fired from her previous workplace after a coworker falsely accused her of misconduct, and her boss had dismissed her without severance pay.
As the sole breadwinner of her family, Angeline had no choice but to work day and night. Her mother suffered from kidney failure and needed dialysis every week. Her younger sibling was still in high school, and every bill seemed to arrive before she had finished paying the last one.
She would accept any job that offered decent pay. Once, she had even spent an entire day working as a clown at a carnival.
Her phone rang. Angeline glanced at the incoming order and immediately rose from the bench.
"A replacement driver?"
Not long afterward, she arrived at the parking lot of the luxurious restaurant. A chauffeur approached her, looking pale and anxious.
"I have to leave, but I can't take my employer home," he said. "Can you drive him instead?"
"Of course. I have a valid driver's license."
"Good. I've already paid you in advance. Just make sure he gets home safely."
Angeline waited in the car for nearly an hour before a man approached and knocked on the window. She hurried out and opened the rear door.
"Who are you?"
The question came from Bryan, the chauffeur's employer. His gaze moved from Angeline's worn sneakers to her pale, exhausted face.
"Hello. I'm the replacement driver. I'll take you home. Please get in," Angeline said weakly.
Bryan studied her with a guarded expression. Something about her condition made him hesitate.
"I'll drive myself. You can leave."
He closed the door she had opened.
Angeline stared at the shut door, stunned. For a moment, she remained exactly where she was, unable to move.