Chapter 1 A Chance Encounter with Mr. William: She Was Just a Substitute

The rainy season had arrived, and the rain poured endlessly.

The wind swept the clouds away, allowing the rain to fall freely. Inside the dance studio, a group of children in ballet attire practiced under the careful guidance of their instructor.

"Let your hands hang naturally, arms forming an oval shape. Pay close attention to the teacher's movements..."

Angela was focused on her teaching.

Meanwhile, parents who had come to pick up their children gathered in small groups, whispering about the hottest topic in San Francisco:

[The Moore family has finally found their long-lost daughter after twenty years.]

"So, Teacher Moore isn't actually related to the Moore family by blood? No wonder she doesn't look like them at all."

"I heard she was adopted from an orphanage, but now that they've found their real daughter, her position has become quite awkward."

"Even her fiancé, Alex, doesn't seem to want her anymore."

"They only adopted her because they couldn't find their real daughter. She was nothing more than a stand-in, a form of psychological comfort for the Moore family."

Their gazes fell upon Angela, filled with sympathy.

She was tall and fair-skinned-a classic beauty with striking bone structure.

Her almond-shaped eyes were particularly stunning, brimming with autumn-like softness and the elegance of distant mountains. Her long, slender legs appeared even more delicate in her black-and-white dance attire. Even without trying, she exuded an effortless charm.

She was composed and knew how to maintain proper boundaries.

Not only did the children adore her, but the parents also spoke highly of her.

When her class ended and she sent the students and parents off, a colleague approached her with concern.

"How's your foot?"

"It's alright."

"I kept signaling for you to rest. Why didn't you take a break?"

"The children and parents come here for me. If I sit down the entire time, I'm sure complaints will start rolling in." Angela smiled as she bent down to massage her right ankle.

Her right leg had been injured long ago and never fully healed. Rainy days brought unbearable pain, cutting her professional dancing career short. Now, she worked as a dance instructor at a training institute.

"It's raining... Is Mr. Rogers coming to pick you up?" her colleague asked while tidying up the equipment, eyeing Angela carefully.

Angela kept her head down, rubbing her ankle, making it hard to read her expression. Her voice was quiet. "He's been busy lately. Probably doesn't have time."

The colleague fell silent.

Busy?

Most likely busy keeping the Moore family's real daughter company.

Alex had pursued Angela for a long time, and he knew that her leg ached on rainy days. Every time it rained, he would personally pick her up and drop her off at work. Many colleagues had envied her for having such a wealthy yet attentive fiancé.

But ever since the Moore family announced the return of their biological daughter, Alex had rarely been around.

Instead, he was always out having fun with the real heiress.

Her colleagues couldn't help but feel sorry for Angela.

"Teacher Moore, if the pain is too much, take a couple of days off. I'll explain to the students and parents." The institute's director observed her carefully. "You can barely walk. It's still raining outside-do you want me to take you to the hospital?"

"No need, thank you. I have other things to do. I'll just take a cab." Angela changed out of her dancewear and left the institute. By then, most colleagues and parents had already gone.

A misty sky loomed overhead, the rain falling in a hazy drizzle. The institute was located outside the city center, making it hard to hail a cab in this weather.

Holding her umbrella, Angela decided to walk to the nearby bus stop, hoping to find shelter from the rain while waiting for a ride.

A cold wind, laced with fine raindrops, seeped into her bones, making her shiver. She had underestimated the weather and dressed too lightly.

Before she reached the bus stop, the roar of an engine sounded behind her.

The car was speeding, its tires splashing rainwater as it approached. Angela's breath hitched-something felt off. The vehicle was heading straight for her.

She stepped back hurriedly, her heel catching on the curb. She nearly stumbled into the damp grass of the landscaping area.

The screech of brakes pierced the air.

The car stopped just two or three meters away from her.

Her face went pale, breath unsteady.

"I'm terribly sorry! Are you alright?" The driver quickly opened the door and rushed over. Upon seeing her, he gasped in surprise. "Miss Moore?"

Angela looked at him, momentarily stunned.

He seemed familiar, but she couldn't immediately recall who he was.

At that moment, the rear passenger door opened.

A tall figure stepped out, dressed in an impeccably tailored British-style suit. His imperial-collar shirt was paired with a four-in-hand knotted tie. His presence was already cold, as if he carried frost and snow in his very bones-an aura of menace surrounding him.

His gaze was deep and detached, devoid of any warmth.

Holding a black umbrella, his features became clearer as he stepped forward-sharp brows, strikingly defined eyes, exuding an air of indifference and arrogance.

His strides were long, and within a few steps, he stood directly before her.

As the umbrella tilted slightly, it shielded her from the wind and rain.

"Mr. William?"

Angela's umbrella had unknowingly slipped from her grasp.

Under the cover of his umbrella, they were standing much too close for comfort-well beyond a safe distance. Feeling uneasy, she instinctively tried to step back. But the rain had made the ground slippery, and her right foot faltered.

Just as she was about to fall, Frances reached out, steadying her by the forearm.

Angela hadn't even processed what was happening before the warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her body.

Sharing the same umbrella, they stood incredibly close.

Close enough that Angela could catch the woody scent on him-warm yet crisp, refined yet restrained, its presence impossible to ignore.

The unfamiliar intrusion sent her mind into chaos.

"Thank you," she hurriedly said.

"You're welcome." Frances withdrew his hand. "It was my driver's mistake. I apologize for the scare. Miss Moore... your foot-do you need a ride to the hospital?"

"No, it's an old injury."

The driver, John, quickly chimed in, "The tires skidded in the rain. I'm really sorry. Luckily, you weren't hit. But just to be safe, let us take you to the hospital."

He apologized profusely.

"It's really alright, there's no need." Angela tried to refuse, but when her eyes met Frances', she felt an inexplicable chill.

Frances had arrived in San Francisco two weeks ago for unknown reasons.

Even among the noble families of the capital, his presence commanded attention. Wherever he appeared, people scrambled to curry favor. In a place like San Francisco, his influence was even more overwhelming.

Angela had only seen him once before-at a gala she attended with Alex.

At the time, he had been seated high above the crowd, exuding indifference.

His gaze, calm and unreadable, swept over the room with quiet intensity-like a wolf lurking in the shadows, observing its prey.

His presence alone was enough to make people's nerves tighten.

"Come on, the rain is getting heavier, and it's hard to get a cab around here," John urged. "I heard you're a dancer-if your leg gets seriously injured, that would be terrible. Let's just get it checked, so we can all feel at ease."

Angela understood what he meant.

Too many people wanted to ingratiate themselves with Frances. They were likely worried that if she refused now but claimed injuries later, they'd be accused of negligence.

Going to the hospital would put everyone at ease.

"Miss Moore, get in the car," Frances said, his voice cold and unreadable, yet carrying an undeniable authority.

Understanding his concern, Angela had no choice but to comply.

Inside the car, tension filled the air. She barely knew Mr. William, and the sheer weight of his presence was suffocating. Fortunately, the hospital was nearby, and they arrived in less than ten minutes.

The silence was overwhelming until her phone vibrated.

She answered. "Dad?"

"Where are you? Why aren't you here yet?"

"I just got off work-"

"I've told you countless times, quit that job! Our family doesn't need the little money you make." James Moore's voice was displeased. "People might think we can't afford to support you!"

Frances, gazing at the rain-speckled window, subtly clenched the fingers resting on his knee.