At the conclusion of the banquet, Maya Wilde presented Diana with an incredibly lavish set of jewelry as a welcoming gift.
They were pear-shaped emeralds that gleamed with a cold, regal luster under the restaurant's dim lights. The necklace was encrusted with pavé diamonds surrounding the center stones, radiating brilliance. A matching ring and a pair of earrings were neatly tucked into the velvet box. Given the quality of such "old-pit" jadeite, each piece was likely worth well over ten million.
Diana had seen this set before—in a faded photograph back at the Knight family estate. It was what William's grandmother had personally placed on Maya the day she married into the family.
"This was originally passed down to me by William's grandmother. After decades of waiting, it has finally found its new owner," Maya said, her voice heavy with the weight of her words as she took Eleanor Hayes's hand.
To hand over a family heirloom of this caliber before even a formal engagement was a clear statement of Maya's undeniable favoritism toward her future daughter-in-law.
Mr. and Mrs. Hayes beamed with pride, their delight impossible to hide. Eleanor was even more animated; she didn't even reach for the box. Instead, she stood up and draped her arms around Maya's neck from behind, tilting her head playfully. "Auntie, this isn't a gift—you're trying to make sure I never want to leave the Knight family. If I start calling you 'Mom' right now, don't you dare complain that I'm being thick-skinned."
Maya was so amused she couldn't stop smiling, patting Eleanor's hand and calling her a darling.
Mrs. Hayes offered a token scold: "You silly girl, show some decorum in front of your elders."
"I only need decorum in front of my own mom. In front of Auntie, I just want to be happy," Eleanor said. She nimbly unclasped the thin gold chain from her neck and handed it to the man beside her. "William, help me put this on. I want to see how beautiful it looks."
William's expression was gentle. He obediently took the emerald piece and carefully fastened the clasp for her.
Under the lights, Eleanor's eyes crinkled with a smile, her gaze filled with the triumphant satisfaction of a survivor. Every elder at the table wore a look of relief and approval. Only Diana sat far away.
She felt like a spectator who had bought a cheap standing-room ticket, watching a prime-time soap opera from across a table of clinking glasses—a drama that had absolutely nothing to do with her.
As Maya and Mrs. Hayes took turns showering her with praise, Eleanor suddenly turned her head. Her gaze cut across the table, precisely catching Diana's eyes. "Diana, what do you think? Does it suit me?"
Diana looked back calmly. "It does. The color is very pure."
Eleanor's smile deepened, her fingers grazing the necklace. "If even someone with Diana's picky taste says it's good, then I can rest easy."
Cruelty disguised as a compliment, Diana thought. Perhaps in Eleanor's eyes, this wasn't just a necklace, but a medal of sovereignty. She suddenly regretted her politeness; she should have said the color was too matronly for someone of Eleanor's "vibrant" age.
Watching them, Mrs. Hayes assumed the two girls were close. "They're the same age, after all. There's a certain destiny in that."
"True," Eleanor said, her voice laced with hidden barbs. "We have similar taste and nearly the same hobbies. Naturally, we always have plenty to talk about."
Diana lowered her lashes, a cold sneer forming in her heart. They had nothing in common.
Eleanor was a rose grown in a greenhouse, meticulously pruned. Diana was a weed pushing through a crack in the pavement, constantly fearing being crushed again. Their only similarity was the misfortune of having fallen for the same man's face and a hollow illusion of affection.
As the banquet ended and they stepped out of the restaurant, the evening breeze carried a hint of moisture.
Eleanor clung to Maya like an accessory, her chirpy laughter echoing through the traditional corridors. Diana lagged behind the group, and directly in front of her was Jasper Sterling.
The man had his hands in his pockets, walking with a lazy gait like a half-awake leopard, unhurriedly letting the distance between him and the others grow.
At the corner of the veranda, Diana quickened her pace. Cloaked by the shadows, she spoke in a low voice. "Jasper, thank you for earlier."
She was referring to his shirt, which she was using as a temporary cover-up.
"Give me a price for the shirt," she said sincerely, trying to keep it professional. "Or I can buy you a brand new one of the exact same model. Since I've worn it, you probably won't want it back anyway."
Jasper paused slightly. He turned his head, his narrow eyes glinting with amusement. "Buy a new one? And then what? You get to keep the old one as a secret memento?"
"...Why on earth would I keep your clothes?"
"Who knows?" Jasper curled his lips nonchalantly, his voice dropping into a raspy, provocative tone. "Maybe you want to smell it, or do something perverted with it."
Whatever gratitude Diana had felt was instantly choked off by his arrogance. She realized her sense of shame was rapidly eroding in this man's presence. She replied flatly, "I'm not a creep. I have no such fetishes. I'll wash it and return it."
In the car on the way back, Maya glanced at the oversized shirt Diana was wearing, which completely hid the silhouette of her qipao.
"Where did you get that shirt on such short notice?"
"Borrowed it," Diana answered evasively.
Kai Knight felt a bit guilty. "Today was a special occasion. I'm sorry you had to compromise to avoid a fashion clash. Next time, I'll make it up to you with a proper gift."
Diana shook her head. "It's fine. The big picture matters more."
"It was quite a coincidence with Eleanor, both of you picking the same qipao."
Diana watched the neon lights blur past the window and didn't respond.
Upon returning to the Knight family home, she immediately sent the shirt to the dry cleaners. Getting Jasper's contact info wasn't hard; she didn't ask William, but instead reached out to Julian Harrison.
Julian replied quickly: "Whoa, Diana, why do you want that big shot's WhatsApp? That guy has a legendary temper."
Diana told a white lie: "He left a piece of clothing with me. I need to ask him how to return it."
Julian didn't suspect anything. "Just toss it. Jasper is a germaphobe. He thinks anything touched by someone else is 'dirty' and never wears things twice."
"No, I have to return it," Diana insisted.
A moment later, the contact card was sent over.
Jasper's profile picture was unexpectedly serene. It was a photo of a crystalline sea, sunlight piercing the surface to reveal layers of transparent, glowing blue. If she hadn't known his name, Diana would never have associated that divine, peaceful image with such a sharp-tongued, erratic man.
The moment she sent the request, the screen jumped: You have added Jasper Sterling. Now you can start chatting.
Diana typed: [Jasper, the shirt is cleaned. How should I get it to you?]
Jasper: [Bring it over.]
Diana: [Okay. I'll drop it off at your office reception tomorrow morning.]
A cold sneer seemed to emanate from his reply: [The office? Are you worried our rumors aren't loud enough, or are you trying to make the whole company think you spent the night in my office?]
Diana took a deep breath. [Then where?]
A location pin was dropped.
Jasper: [West of the city. Also, bring me a blueberry cake.]
It seemed he wanted his delivery immediately.
Though Diana felt he was far too comfortable bossing her around, she did owe him a favor. On the way, she found a highly-rated boutique bakery and selected an exquisite blueberry mousse.
When the car pulled up to the villa in the West of the city, it was already late. It was a modern architectural marvel surrounded by trees, the entire structure glowing with light.
When she pushed the door open, the massive living room felt oppressively empty. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the water in the private pool looked black in the night, reflecting the cold stars.
The house was empty of staff. Diana stood awkwardly at the edge of the rug, about to send a text saying she would just leave the items and go.
Then, she heard leisurely footsteps from the second floor.
Jasper had clearly just stepped out of the shower. His black hoodie sleeves were rolled up loosely, and droplets of water still clung to the tips of his hair. He looked less sharp than usual, but he carried a heavier sense of presence.
"Jasper," Diana greeted.
The words had barely left her mouth when her body froze.
A silent, black shadow emerged from behind Jasper. It was a massive Doberman, its ears cropped like blades and its muscles rippling under the light. The predator-like ferocity of the breed was terrifying, especially since its cold eyes were locked onto Diana.
As Jasper walked down the stairs, the dog followed in lockstep.
He sat on the sofa and flicked open the cake box with long fingers. He said nonchalantly, "Sit."
Diana was about to bend her knees when he added lazily, "I was talking to the dog, not you."
"..." Diana stopped mid-motion, her cheeks burning.
The Doberman was incredibly well-trained. It circled the coffee table and sat firmly about a meter to Diana's right. Man and dog formed a bizarre, silent confrontation against her.
Diana's palms were sweating. She cursed inwardly—this dog was just like its owner, radiating a sense of unrest. She tried to stare the beast down, but the dog's focus was far superior to hers.
After a few seconds, Diana yielded. Just as she was about to look away, the large dog suddenly leaned in. Its wet nose sniffed her fingertips before it gave the back of her hand an incredibly loud, wet lick.
"Ah!" Terrified, Diana practically jumped out of her skin. She scrambled to the left in a panic and ended up bumping right into Jasper's side.