"Have you forgotten what I told you last time, or do I need to repeat myself?"
Diana's tone was neither hot nor cold. The twin sisters remembered that previous slap all too vividly. At the sweep of her icy gaze, they both shuddered in unison, the mockery dying in their throats.
"You two useless things, what are you afraid of her for?" Charlotte Bell pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, her eyes brimming with high-altitude contempt. "I'll make sure she pays back that slap with interest, sooner or later."
Diana turned slightly, her gaze lingering steadily on Charlotte's face for two seconds. A faint, phantom-like smile touched the corners of her mouth. "Why wait? You can try right now. Or do you actually miss the taste of being slapped?"
Charlotte let out a scoff as if she'd just heard a joke. "Diana Bell, who do you think you're threatening? Do you even dare touch a hair on my head?"
In this little Bell princess's dictionary, she was the only one allowed to bully others. Under Sebastian's protection, she was accustomed to tyranny, firmly believing that an unwanted stray like Diana had subservience etched into her very bones.
Diana replied flatly, "What wouldn't I dare? Is your face made of titanium?"
"You spent a few years hiding abroad and learned nothing except how to be sharp-tongued," Charlotte's eyes gleamed with malice. "Five years ago at that party, why weren't you so eloquent? I remember someone shaking like a drowned dog, face as white as a corpse."
As soon as she finished, the group of exquisitely dressed socialites behind her erupted into laughter, their expressions mirroring those of people watching a circus act.
Eleanor Hayes maintained her dignified and graceful demeanor. She didn't join the mockery, yet she stood quietly at the very center of that circle.
The scene overlapped absurdly with the memory of five years ago.
Standing in the piercing cold wind, Diana's fingertips felt numb. For a moment, it felt as if she had been transported back to that "welcome party" that had utterly shattered her life.
When she was first sent to the Bell family, Charlotte was still in Europe. They were sisters in name, but strangers in reality. Diana never wanted to steal anything—not the family's favor, nor the inheritance. She couldn't care less.
She thought that as long as she stayed far enough away, she could buy herself peace.
But people like Charlotte were born with a craving to crush the tranquility of others.
When Sebastian returned to the country years ago, the elite circles threw a grand homecoming banquet for Charlotte. Maya Wilde had told Diana that the sisters should get closer, and Diana had been foolish enough to believe in that Trojan horse of an invitation.
At that gathering—nominally a welcome, but effectively a public execution—Diana sensed something was wrong the moment she pushed open the door. The socialites, who were usually civil to her, looked at her with a filthy sense of judgment. And her then-closest friend was hiding behind Charlotte, head bowed, lacking even the courage to look her in the eye.
In front of the entire hall of guests, Charlotte had announced like a public broadcast: "Oh, Diana, I heard you have a secret crush on William Knight? He treats you like a little sister, and you actually harbor such disgusting thoughts about him? How incredibly cheap."
Back then, Charlotte had stood on high ground just like this, flanked by spectators waiting to throw stones, using the most vicious words to deconstruct a young girl's private feelings.
Some said William was unlucky to have raised a "white-eyed wolf"; others whispered the word "child bride," suggesting William had been grooming her all along.
In that instant, the affections Diana had never voiced—the ones she had carefully tucked away in her heart—were dragged out like a piece of moldy old cloth, torn apart, displayed, and spat upon.
To save the reputation of both the Knight and Bell families, Skylar Miller stepped in and took her as a goddaughter, barely suppressing the storm that could have ruined her life.
But Sebastian saw it as a profound humiliation. Without listening to a word of her explanation, he placed her under house arrest and then, with lightning speed, shipped this "family stain" abroad.
Diana took a deep breath, suppressing the chill in her heart. "To think you dare bring up those filthy tactics again."
Charlotte tilted her chin up, letting out a provocative snort. "If you were brave enough to harbor those rotten thoughts, why shouldn't I be brave enough to mention them? Do you have the guts to do it but not the guts to own it?"
"Exactly! If you do something shameful, are you afraid of people talking?" a crony chimed in.
"If it were me, I'd have found a hole to crawl into long ago. How can you still show your face in the east city?"
Eleanor finally spoke. A polite but detached smile played on her lips. "Enough, these are all old accounts. The relationship between William and Diana is very clear now. Rumors stop with the wise; let's not spread this anymore, okay?"
Her words acted like a decree of amnesty. The followers looked at each other and finally shut their mouths.
But Eleanor also saw the flash of suppressed violence in Diana's eyes. She knew that if she didn't intervene, the scene would turn ugly.
"Diana, for my sake, let's just turn the page," Eleanor advised softly.
Diana stared at Eleanor in silence, her gaze making Eleanor feel a strange sense of unfamiliarity. A moment later, without warning, Diana swung her hand. Snap! A crisp, loud slap landed squarely on Charlotte's polished face.
Charlotte screamed, her head snapping to the side from the force. She clutched her face, unable to react for several seconds. The twins nearby jumped back as if pricked by needles, scurrying away.
For a moment, the air seemed to solidify. No one expected that this usually quiet Diana—the one who had been exiled for five years—would actually dare to strike in public.
"Diana Bell! You're insane! You hit Charlotte! Aren't you afraid Secretary Bell will break your legs when he finds out?"
"Then I'll enjoy the hitting first and worry about the rest later."
Diana shook her numbing palm, feeling slightly drained. She turned to the stunned Eleanor and said calmly, "Eleanor, I can give you your 'face.' But this slap is the interest I've owed since five years ago; I had to take it today. As for my face—"
She paused, her voice as cool as autumn water. "I'll give it to you next time."
With that, she ignored the curses and gasps behind her, shoved her hands into her parka pockets, and walked toward the exit with her back straight.
Watching her retreat, Eleanor's heart skipped a beat. The girl before her and the quiet, smiling "Little Diana" who stood before William seemed like two completely different souls.
"How can she be so arrogant? Who does she think she is!"
"What else? She's just banking on the fact that William is protecting her now. She really thinks she's someone important."
"Eleanor, look at her. You really need to be careful. She definitely hasn't given up on William!"
Eleanor stared in the direction Diana had vanished, saying nothing.
Walking out of the mall, the cold wind began to dissipate the stinging heat in her palm.
The slap was cathartic, but the five stolen years and the trampled dignity could never truly be recovered. The name Charlotte Bell was like a malignant tumor—whenever they crossed paths, nothing good ever happened.
Back at her place on Pine Road, the apartment was so quiet it was unsettling.
The light in the foyer was a dim yellow, illuminating the furniture that hadn't yet acquired the scent of a home. The sofa, the table, and the empty, dry fish tank—every piece of furniture seemed to radiate a sense of "you don't belong here."
After some hesitation, she dialed the Knight residence to ask about the missing little turtle.
Maggie sighed on the other end. "Oh, Diana, I had people flip over the entire back garden and the crevices in the rockery where it usually hides, but we still haven't found it. That little thing... it usually looks so slow, but when it runs, it doesn't make a sound. It's truly strange."
Diana gave a self-deprecating laugh and hung up.
See? Even a turtle knew to stay away from her.
Unwanted little piece of trash. The phrase suited her quite well.
Before hanging up, Maggie had nagged her to come home, saying living alone was too lonely and she wouldn't even get a hot meal. Diana just made excuses about being used to it.
Only she knew that she didn't hate having a maid; she hated the feeling of being constantly watched, the suffocation of having to maintain the persona of the "well-behaved" girl.
She buried her face in a soft pillow until her chest felt a dull ache. Just as she was about to drift off, her phone screen lit up.
"Sis, you asleep? Come out and have some fun!" Julian Harrison's loud voice practically radiated through the screen.
"No. What's up?"
"We've chartered a yacht for tomorrow. In this east city weather, the wind at sea is where the excitement is. I'll take you out for a spin!"
The image of William and Eleanor standing side by side on a deck flashed through Diana's mind, causing a sharp sting. She lied through her teeth: "I'm not going. I get seasick."
"Cut the crap! You used to swim a thousand meters at the club without breaking a sweat, and now you're seasick? Why don't you get sick of me instead?" Julian shouted on the other end. "Be honest, you've been avoiding us lately. Did you have a falling out with your brother?"
"No..." Diana was about to weave another excuse when a faint static noise came from the other end.
Then, William's voice—cool, deep, and carrying an undeniable authority—cut through: "What's wrong?"
Diana's heart skipped a beat. The refusal she had prepared caught in her throat. After a long silence, she let out a defeated sigh. "Nothing. I'm going to the university to see my senior tomorrow. I'll head over to find you guys later."