Twisted And Drama: Miss Trouble Maker

[I think I should remind you that we're getting engaged next month. You'd better break things off with Linda in advance.]

Bert stared at the message for a few seconds, then turned off his phone without replying.

He looked toward the sofa where Linda stood with her back to him, bending slightly to retrieve something from her bag. Her form-fitting brown dress accentuated her graceful figure.

Tomorrow was his birthday, and Linda had booked a table at Riverside Restaurant to celebrate in advance.

Bert pressed his fingers against his temple and withdrew his gaze from Linda, shifting it toward the river outside the window. The twinkling fishing lights on both banks flickered, with yachts passing by occasionally.

Linda took out what she needed and sat back at the table, placing a carefully prepared gift in front of him before gently pushing it closer. Bert was still gazing out the window. Her voice was light and cheerful as she picked up her wine glass and clinked it against his. "What are you looking at?" She smiled. "Happy birthday. Love me forever."

Bert turned back, smiling faintly, and took a symbolic sip of wine.

Linda sipped her wine slowly, glancing repeatedly at the gift box on the table.

But Bert neither noticed the new addition to the table nor picked up on her silent hints.

The brown gift box wasn't small. Even in the dim lighting, it stood out against the white tablecloth. Yet he simply didn't notice it.

Linda's eyes flickered before finally meeting Bert's unreadable gaze.

"Linda," Bert took another sip of wine, swallowing with slight effort. "You can name a condition. Anything within my ability, I'll agree to it."

Linda didn't even think before laughing it off. "It's your birthday. Why would I ask for a gift?"

She hadn't yet realized the true meaning behind his words.

Bert set his wine glass down and picked up his phone, typing a message to his secretary.

Since she didn't want a gift, Linda stood up, placing her hands on the table as she leaned in, about to kiss him-

Then he spoke.

"It's not a gift. If you haven't thought of anything yet, I'll transfer the Riverside Community villa to your name. I'll have Assistant Chad handle it. Besides the house, you can ask for one more thing."

Riverside Community was a newly developed villa district in New York City. Each standalone home was prohibitively expensive, owned exclusively by the wealthy elite. Linda had never imagined she could afford a house there in her lifetime.

And now, he was suddenly giving her such a costly property?

A bad feeling rose inside her.

Bert continued typing, deliberately avoiding looking at Linda, unwilling to see the expression on her face at this moment.

After a brief pause, he added, "If you ever run into trouble you can't handle, you can always go to Assistant Chad. He'll take care of it. I won't be available anymore."

Linda froze for a moment. Then, realizing what he meant, she let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh.

He had made it clear. There was no need for further explanation.

Bert finished instructing his secretary and only then noticed Linda's posture. She had been leaning forward to kiss him. He reached out, trying to hold her shoulder, but she suddenly pulled back and sat down, dodging his touch.

Their eyes met.

Linda's gaze, filled with silent sorrow, scanned his deep-set eyes, the sharp bridge of his nose, and his entire face. She knew him so well, yet at this moment, he seemed like a stranger.

In terms of family background and financial power, he had always been the dominant one. That meant he could break up without warning, without reason, without needing to give her any explanation.

Maybe he had loved her at some point during their relationship, but when it came time to be ruthless, he was truly ruthless. She was in the middle of celebrating his birthday, yet this was the moment he chose to break up with her-without a thought for whether she would be devastated or heartbroken.

If their roles were reversed, if she were Bert, she would at least wait until after the birthday dinner to bring up breaking up. And if she had to offer "compensation," she would do so as gently as possible.

But he was not her.

To him, their relationship had been nothing more than entertainment. She was the one who took it seriously.

Bert braced himself for an outburst, but Linda never questioned him.

"Within five years, ensure that none of my dad's law firm's major clients are lost. Also, when new companies move into the New York City district, introduce their business to my dad first." She didn't pretend to be noble. She stated her terms straightforwardly, ending their two years and four months of being together.

After all, he had pursued her by sending business to her father's law firm.

And now, it was business that ended it.

Bert agreed immediately. "No problem."

She didn't make a scene, didn't beg, didn't cling to him. A rare sense of guilt stirred within him, and he inexplicably wanted to compensate her more. "Is there anything else..."

Before he could finish, his gaze landed on the gift box beside her hand.

The logo on the box was unmistakable-it was the brand of watches he often wore.

Her entire annual salary, if she didn't eat or drink, would barely be enough to afford one.

"For me?" His voice was hoarse.

Linda maintained her carefree expression, smiling. "For someone who deserves it." She grabbed the box and walked toward the sofa.

With her back to Bert, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself after the unexpected breakup.

She had been telling herself that he wasn't worth her sadness, but it was useless. After two years together, how could she possibly not feel hurt?

Putting the watch away, she rang for a server.

The door opened, and it was the restaurant manager, followed by two waiters.

She wasn't important enough for the manager to personally serve her-only the other person in the room had that kind of status.

The manager stood at the door, smiling as he asked Bert, "Mr. White, shall we start serving the dishes?"

Bert said nothing, merely waved a hand to dismiss them.

Linda spoke up instead. "Manager Harris, please see the guest out. Thank you."

There were only two people in the private room. Since she was the host tonight, the only "guest" could be Bert.

Manager Harris forced an awkward smile. Even if he had the courage, he wouldn't dare ask Bert to leave-unless he no longer wanted to work at this restaurant.

Linda had made a reservation for this river-view private room two weeks in advance. She had spent all afternoon decorating the place and ordering the cake. Now, before even the appetizers had been served, she was kicking the birthday guest out. Manager Harris was baffled. Even if they were arguing, this was too much.

Just as the manager hesitated, Bert stood up, retrieved his jacket from the wardrobe, and put it on slowly. His eyes never left Linda.

She had her back to him, sorting her bag, her expression hidden from view.

Bert ultimately remained silent and strode toward the door.

With a soft 'click,' the door shut.

Linda no longer had to maintain a false expression. She crossed her arms and stood by the floor-to-ceiling window for an unknown amount of time. The manager and servers didn't disturb her until her phone rang on the table.

"Where are you? The dress has arrived. Should I send it over, or will you come pick it up?"

The voice on the other end was cold and emotionless.

It was Helen, her half-sister. Their father had just married Helen's mother this month, ending a ten-year relationship. They planned to hold a small wedding in two months.

Their stepmother had bought a dress for each of them to wear at the reception.

Over the years, Linda and this sister, with whom she shared no blood relation, had maintained a distant but peaceful relationship. They only met two or three times a year-no conflict, but no closeness either.

Linda responded, "Send it to my home or my mom's office. Either is fine."

"I'll send it to your place," Helen said. She was about to hang up when she hesitated and added, "By the way, I heard Bert has a fiancée. You should make sure you weren't the other woman."

"I broke up with him. Just today."

Helen usually didn't meddle in her stepsister's affairs, but perhaps out of boredom, she asked, "Where are you? If it's on my way, I'll drop off the dress."

"Riverside Restaurant. I'm about to enjoy a free meal."

She asked, "Want to join me?"

Helen wasn't naive. The Riverside Restaurant required reservations well in advance-there was no such thing as a free meal. "Feeling generous, are we?"

"Not me. Just lucky to pick up what someone else left behind."

"..."

Helen was just around Riverside Restaurant and arrived by car in ten minutes.

It was Manager Harris who escorted her to the private dining room.

Earlier, Manager Harris had walked Bert all the way to the restaurant's entrance. Before getting into his car, Bert instructed him to ensure Linda was taken care of and safely sent home since she had been drinking and couldn't drive.

Manager Harris was just fulfilling his duty, unaware that they had completely broken up. He assumed it was like the previous times-just a little lovers' quarrel. Linda and Bert were frequent guests at the restaurant. Over the past two years, he had witnessed Bert coaxing Linda more times than he could count on one hand.

The tricky part tonight was that all the ingredients had been meticulously prepared according to Linda's specifications. Now, with an unexpected fallout, they were about to leave without even starting the meal. He was already stressing over what discount to offer Linda when it came time to settle the bill.

As this thought crossed his mind, Manager Harris glanced at Helen. "Your sister is too headstrong. No matter what, today is Mr. White's birthday. She shouldn't be making a fuss. You should talk to her."

Helen was displeased by his words and instinctively stood up for Linda. She retorted, unhurriedly, "Unlike Manager Harris, I don't enjoy meddling in other people's business."

Manager Harris was taken aback-she was clearly calling him out for overstepping.

He had interacted with Helen a few times before, and she always had a stern expression with a sharp tongue. Tonight was no exception.

The elevator reached the 42nd floor, and Helen stepped out with long strides.

Inside the private dining room, Linda sat at the table, idly swirling the wine in her glass while staring at the men's wristwatch on the table.

After Bert left, she had taken the gift box back out of her bag, contemplating what to do with the watch that she never got to give him.

The door pushed open from the outside, and Linda turned her head.

"So fast?" she said, taking a small sip of wine, subconsciously covering up the fact that she had been lost in thought.

Helen entered. "A rare chance for a fancy meal-I had to hurry before I missed out."

Manager Harris, still standing at the door, took the hint and instructed the kitchen to start preparing the food.

Since Linda and Helen barely saw each other and had little in common, an awkward silence settled in the room once the door closed.

"You just broke up, and you still have an appetite?" Helen broke the silence with her straightforwardness.

Linda remained unfazed, her tone leisurely. "With prices like this, it'd be a waste not to eat."

Helen was speechless. She hadn't expected that her half-sister got dumped while celebrating someone else's birthday. She casually placed her bag on the sofa and took off the white shirt she had been wearing over her top.

She glanced at the wardrobe across the room-it was about five or six meters away. Debating whether to hang up her shirt, she ultimately decided against it and draped it over the sofa instead.

Linda noticed that Helen always took the easy way out, even if it meant her clothes would wrinkle just to avoid taking a few extra steps.

It was already a miracle that she had come all this way to deliver a dress.

Linda put down her wine glass and got up. As Helen approached the table, Linda glanced at her shoes-light-colored flats. Helen had always been tall and had a few centimeters on her. But now, she seemed even taller.

"You've grown taller," Linda said, grasping at something to talk about.

Helen responded with a simple "Mm" as she pulled out a chair and sat down. She had, in fact, grown two centimeters. At her recent physical exam, she measured 174.5 cm. Even at twenty-seven, she was surprised she was still growing.

She poured herself a glass of red wine. As Linda had not yet returned to her seat, Helen turned to look for her-only to find her standing by the wardrobe, carefully hanging up her expensive white shirt.

A few years ago, it would have been unimaginable for Helen to personally deliver a dress to Linda, or for Linda to hang up her clothes.

For a moment, Helen couldn't tell who had changed more.

She wasn't one for sentimental words, and thanks were unnecessary. So she simply turned back and took a sip of wine. Her gaze landed on the watch box on the table. It was open, revealing an expensive timepiece inside.

She raised an eyebrow. "You bought that for Bert?"

Linda nodded.

The leather strap was custom-made, adding significantly to the cost. Linda's annual salary wouldn't even cover this watch. Helen clicked her tongue. "Generous."

Then added, "And devoted."

"He's given me far more over the years, not to mention all the business he brought to my dad." Linda didn't elaborate further.

Helen tilted her chin toward the watch. "You've broken up. What are you going to do with it?"

Linda had been pondering this exact question. Keeping such an expensive watch wasn't necessary, nor did she have anyone else to give it to. "When I have time, I'll check with some industry contacts to see how much I can sell it for." Even if it had never been worn, just opening the box would lower its value significantly.

Helen didn't comment. Instead, she messaged a friend-who happened to be the manager of a flagship watch store in New York City and well-versed in the market value of luxury watches.

She briefly explained Linda's situation and asked, "Will she lose a lot on depreciation?"

Her friend quickly responded, "Linda went through a lot to get that watch. She waited over seven months in line and had to purchase additional items to qualify. Now she wants to return it? Did her boyfriend think it was too cheap and refuse to accept it?"

Helen, "They broke up. She never got the chance to give it to him."

The manager sighed, feeling bad not only for the seemingly perfect couple that had split but also for the expensive watch that never found its recipient.

Helen, "Any way to minimize her losses?"

The manager teased, "I thought you didn't care about your stepsister? What's with the sudden concern?"

Helen wouldn't admit that it was because Linda had hung up her shirt.

Instead, she dodged the question, "Will you be at the store tomorrow? I'll drop by after work."

Manager, "I'm here now."

Helen raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you off today?"

Manager, "Last-minute change. A VIP customer is coming in to buy a watch. Apparently, he's in New York City for a conference, and his friend accidentally dropped his watch, cracking the case. He needs a replacement urgently. Not sure who he is, but even our regional director flew in for this. No way I could take the day off."

Helen had arranged to meet her friend at around nine o'clock at the store to have the watch checked first.

As for when they could find a buyer, that was purely a matter of luck.

"You even bought additional goods just to get this watch sooner? That must've cost you two years' worth of salary without spending a dime elsewhere."

Linda was slightly surprised, wondering how Helen knew she had purchased extra goods.

Helen explained, "My friend is the store manager. She saw your order. We'll go see her later-she may not be able to help much, but the more connections, the better the chances."

Linda's phone vibrated-it was a message from Bert's secretary,

[Miss Jackson, when would you be available to complete the transfer of the Riverside Community villa to your name? Mr. White said he feels deeply sorry for you, for failing to live up to your feelings. He insists that you accept the house as a way to settle the emotional debt he owes you.]

Linda suppressed the storm brewing in her heart.

Helen, noticing her expression, deduced that the message was related to Bert. She took the phone from Linda's hand and placed it on the table. "Why are you checking your phone while eating?" Then she deliberately changed the topic to distract her. "My mom and Uncle Jackson are getting married. What are you planning to give them as a wedding gift?"

Linda fell silent for a moment. "I haven't decided yet. What about you?"

Helen took even longer to answer. "Same here." She hadn't figured it out either.

She only loved her own father and mother. Now that her mother was marrying someone else, she didn't know what would be an appropriate gift. Linda, much like her, only cherished her own parents. Uncle Jackson and his ex-wife once had a deeply affectionate marriage, from school uniforms to wedding dresses, yet they ultimately parted ways. Linda was probably even more unwilling to face her father's wedding to another woman.

Linda suggested, "Why don't we buy something together? Something expensive, and I'll use it to send my blessings to my dad while you send yours to your mom."

Helen nodded. "Sounds good. Let's go pick something out when we have time."

After their meal, as they left the restaurant, Linda declined the driver Bert had arranged for her and walked straight out of the lobby.

Manager Harris felt uneasy. If he didn't ensure Linda got home safely, he wouldn't be able to answer to Bert. So, he tried persuading her again, "Miss Jackson, you've had alcohol..."

Linda interrupted him without looking his way. "I've called for a designated driver. And one more thing-let me say this again-I've broken up with Bert."

Manager Harris didn't take her words seriously. What couple hasn't said they're breaking up in the heat of an argument?

"Manager Harris, you should stay here." Walking behind them, Helen maintained a steady pace as she called out to him. "My sister wasn't celebrating that man's birthday tonight. She was treating him to a breakup dinner. He didn't eat, so I ate for him. And the breakup? It's done."

Manager Harris was visibly startled.

Helen quipped, "I hope that next time I come here, I can still enjoy the same warm and attentive service from you, Manager Harris."

Manager Harris smiled, his response well-measured. "Of course, it would be my honor."

Just then, the designated driver arrived.

He was a tall and slender young man, dressed in gray sweatpants and a loose-fitting white T-shirt.

Linda sensed a certain youthful aura from him-something completely absent in Bert, who had been navigating the business world for years.

After confirming he was the driver she had called, Linda handed him the car keys.

Helen grabbed a shopping bag from her own car. "Don't forget your dress."

Linda stepped forward, took the bag, and placed it in the trunk. Not wanting to trouble her sister any further, she said, "You should head home. I'll go to the flagship store alone to meet your store manager friend. You've already helped me enough."

Helen opened the passenger door and got in. "I'm already involved. Another hour or two won't make a difference."

The white car pulled out of the restaurant's parking lot and headed toward the watch flagship store.

With a stranger in the driver's seat, it wasn't convenient to discuss private matters, giving the two sisters a valid excuse to stay silent.

They hadn't talked much during dinner either-each eating their own meal in silence, simply seeking a moment of peace.

The car remained quiet throughout the drive until the designated driver stopped near the flagship store. Linda turned to him. "Would you like to take a walk nearby? I might be a while."

The driver didn't say much. He simply nodded and handed her the car keys.

The VIP customer who had come to pick a watch hadn't arrived yet, so the store manager was available to personally attend to them.

Before tonight, the store manager had never met Linda in person, but she wasn't unfamiliar with her. Over the years, she had heard bits and pieces about Linda from Helen and had a rough idea of her personality. Highly intelligent, adept at reading people-someone who seemed completely non-threatening but was, in reality, full of strategic calculations.

She had also seen photos of Linda in the family portraits displayed at Helen's house-an oval face with soft, elegant jawlines, clear eyes filled with a warm smile, the kind that could melt anyone's heart.

In the pictures, her features were flawless to the point of seeming unreal. The store manager had once thought that such beauty could only be the result of heavy photo editing.

But now, with Linda standing before her in real life, she-a woman herself-found her breath momentarily caught upon seeing her.

Linda greeted her politely. "Sorry for troubling you at such a late hour."

The store manager smiled warmly and ushered them inside. "It's no trouble at all. Your sister's matters are my matters-no need to be so formal. You're in luck tonight-our regional manager happens to be here. He has great connections. I'll ask him to help find a buyer."

The warranty card for the watch hadn't been filled out yet, and it had never even been worn. There was still a chance of selling it close to the original price-though that chance was slim.

Linda wasn't concerned about the price; she just wanted to sell the watch as soon as possible.

The store manager poured two cups of coffee and invited them to sit in the VIP lounge on the first floor. She then took the watch to find the regional manager, hoping he could match it with the right buyer.

Helen reminded Linda, "Don't drink the coffee. You won't be able to sleep if you do."

Linda stirred her coffee absentmindedly and didn't hide her feelings. "I won't be able to sleep either way."

Soon, the store manager hurried back downstairs. Inside the VIP lounge, the two sisters sat on opposite ends of the sofa, not speaking, as if they were strangers.

She returned the watch to Linda. "I took some photos. Keep the watch with you."

After a brief pause, she gave Linda a heads-up. "The color of your watch strap-some people will absolutely love it." The rest of the implication was left unspoken.

Linda had expected this. She smiled and thanked her.

The store manager pointed to the entrance and said to Helen, "Our VIP guest is about to arrive. I don't have time to keep you company. Help yourselves to more coffee. If you need to leave, we'll catch up over the phone later."

Helen replied, "No rush. I don't have anything to do at home anyway."

The store manager had no time for small talk. She adjusted her outfit and makeup before hurrying toward the entrance.

She had just learned from the regional manager that tonight's VIP guest was a man named Rex from The Thompson Family in London.

Accompanying him was Bernie from The Clark Family, who had accidentally damaged his watch. They were here specifically to have the broken watch repaired. Buying a new watch was only secondary.

Just as she reached the entrance, two cars pulled up and parked in sequence.

Leading the way was a striking deep emerald green Cullinan. Even someone like her, who wasn't familiar with cars, knew that a Cullinan was the pinnacle of SUVs.

A young man got out of the driver's seat, dressed casually in a T-shirt a shade darker than the SUV, exuding a carefree and unruly air.

Then, the passenger door opened, revealing a tall man in a white dress shirt. She caught a glimpse of his deep, chiseled side profile-his aura was in stark contrast to the man in the T-shirt.

The regional manager stepped forward to greet the man in the white shirt, confirming his identity-Rex, the second son of The Thompson Family.

And the one in the T-shirt? Bernie.

The store manager followed behind them into the store. With the regional manager leading the way, there was nothing she needed to do.

On the staircase leading upstairs, it was mostly Bernie chatting with the regional manager. Rex, with a calm and deep gaze, was sparing with his words. From the entrance to the VIP lounge on the second floor, he had only spoken twice, totaling less than ten words.

The damaged watch was with Rex's secretary. Bernie gestured for the secretary to take it out and said to the regional manager, "Try to minimize the repair time as much as possible."

The regional manager only verbally agreed. The watch had to be sent to headquarters for repairs, and the exact repair time would depend on an assessment after testing-it wasn't something he could decide.

Bernie was more anxious than the owner of the watch, emphasizing twice that it had to be restored no matter the cost and that the repair time had to be minimized as much as possible.

The watch held great significance for Rex-it was a gift from his older brother for his twentieth birthday. Over the past nine years, it had been the watch he wore most frequently on important occasions.

It was all Bernie's fault. At the time, he had been fooling around, insisting that Rex take off the watch so he could have a look.

They had been playing cards, and in the heat of the game, Bernie had forgotten how valuable the watch was. After losing a round, he got playful and accidentally knocked the watch off. Worse still, after it fell to the ground, he absentmindedly kicked it...

After handling the watch repair arrangements, Bernie suggested checking out the store's watches and instructed the store manager, "Bring out the most expensive ones."

Rex was busy handling work on his phone and didn't even look up.

He had no need for another watch-his collection already filled three watch safes, with some pieces never even getting the chance to be worn. Bernie, however, insisted on buying him one as an apology.

The store manager selected a few watches that she thought might catch Rex's interest, skipping the basic models.

After setting up the display, Bernie motioned to Rex, "Take a look. See if any of these work for you?"

Rex swept his eyes quickly over the selection and said, "Put them all away."

Not a single one caught his interest.

Bernie understood Rex well-when buying a watch, it had to click with him, and price was never the deciding factor. He had seen Rex's collection, which ranged from five-figure to eight-figure watches.

Pointing at the damaged watch, Bernie asked the store manager, "Do you have anything similar to this one? It doesn't have to be the same model-something in a similar color scheme would do."

The store manager took a closer look at the strap and then instinctively glanced at the regional manager.

The regional manager also found the strap color familiar. Suddenly, he remembered Linda's watch. While it couldn't compare to Rex's in value, the strap's color scheme was quite similar.

The regional manager explained to Bernie, "We do have a watch in the store, owned by a customer..."

"Bring it here," Bernie interrupted impatiently.

"Just a moment, I'll get it right away." The store manager, composed and steady while inside the VIP room, took off almost at a run the moment she reached the staircase.

When she entered the lounge downstairs, she couldn't help but exclaim, "Good thing you two haven't left! If luck is on your side, this watch might find a new owner tonight."

Linda was surprised. "That fast?"

"That's why I said you're lucky."

There was no time to explain in detail. The store manager grabbed the watch and rushed back upstairs.

Rex, being a watch collector, could estimate the watch's price with just a glance. The one brought in by the store manager had no collectible value. He simply said, "Thank you for your effort."

Bernie understood-Rex wasn't interested.

Rex locked his phone screen and glanced at Bernie. "Let's go back to the hotel."

They had already looked at the watches, and since none appealed to him, there was no need to make a purchase.

But Bernie still felt guilty. Rex had an important business meeting tomorrow, and wearing a formal suit without a watch would feel incomplete. Borrowing someone else's watch wasn't an option for him either.

Ignoring Rex's words, Bernie took the initiative to ask the store manager again, "Would the Shanghai store have a larger selection?"

Rex had no patience for this. It was just a watch. He cut Bernie off and then subtly gestured toward the uniquely colored watch in the store manager's hands.

"This one will do," he said.

Rex had just decided on the watch when he suddenly remembered that the regional manager had only said half of what he intended to. He turned to him and asked, "Does this watch already have an owner?"

He was only planning to wear it as a temporary replacement. If it belonged to someone else, he wasn't interested in taking what wasn't his.

"Not at the moment." The regional manager couldn't lie to Rex, but he also couldn't be completely transparent. He carefully phrased his response, "It was a custom order from one of our clients. They waited in line for over seven months, but unfortunately, just before the watch arrived, something happened on their end, and they had to give it up. Looks like this watch was meant to be yours."

As for what exactly had happened to the client, the regional manager deliberately left it vague. Naturally, Rex assumed it was a financial issue-otherwise, after waiting so long and ordering a custom strap, they wouldn't have given it up so easily.

Rex nodded without further questions and picked up the watch to try it on.

Perhaps it really was fate-the strap fit perfectly, without any need for adjustment.

Inside the watch box was a small, rectangular gold card. As Rex fastened the clasp, he casually picked up the card. A line of elegant, neatly written blue-black ink stood out in the center,

"May all your days ahead go smoothly. Love me forever."

-by Linda ,)

Assuming it was a standard message included by the brand, Rex glanced at it briefly before placing it back into the box.

Seeing that Rex was at least somewhat satisfied with the watch, Bernie finally let out a sigh of relief.

The store manager, who had been worried that the unusual strap color would be hard to sell, also felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She glanced at Rex's wrist-some people, with their strong presence and well-proportioned hands, could pull off any watch effortlessly.

As they left the flagship store, Bernie suggested grabbing a late-night snack to calm his nerves. The past few hours, ever since he broke Rex's watch, had been pure torture for him.

"I know a place with great late-night food. Wanna go?" he asked Rex.

Rex fastened his seatbelt without responding.

No clear rejection meant agreement. Bernie glanced at the rearview mirror and said while reversing the car, "My car arrives the day after tomorrow. No need to drive yours anymore. Have someone pick it up from my place then."

Rex let out a quiet "Mm." The Cullinan belonged to him, but since Bernie hadn't bought a car in New York City, he usually borrowed one whenever he was in town for business.

After Rex left, the store manager and regional manager returned to the store. The store manager couldn't contain her excitement and rushed straight to the VIP lounge on the first floor.

"It's sold! It's sold! I'm buying a lottery ticket right now-what insane luck! Thank God Rex came to New York City on business!"

Linda overheard and asked, "Rex?"

"Yeah, Rex. The big shot our regional manager flew in just to personally receive. He's the one who bought your watch." The store manager took a sip of water before continuing her gossip with enthusiasm. "Second son of the Thompson family from London. Unmarried, no girlfriend. Whether he's actually single or not... that's another story."

In their circles, not having a public girlfriend didn't necessarily mean someone was single.

That was the extent of her gossip, all of it gleaned from the regional manager.

Linda wasn't interested in gossip about strangers. She was simply relieved the watch had sold so quickly and thanked the store manager sincerely, "When do you finish work? Let me take you and your boss out for a late-night meal as a thank-you."

The store manager waved a hand dismissively, smiling, "Another time. If you don't, I'll just keep pestering you for it. We have a meeting tonight, though-it'll probably go until midnight."

That was just an excuse. The store manager knew Linda had just gone through a breakup. Who feels like going out for drinks after that?

When Linda wasn't looking, she exchanged glances with Helen.

Helen immediately caught on and grabbed her bag. "Then we'll catch up another time."

Linda suddenly remembered the note in the watch box. "I left a card inside. Will that be a problem?"

The store manager had only noticed the card when Rex picked it up earlier, but she hadn't seen what was written on it. She reassured Linda, "Rex read it and put it back. He probably thought it was just a complimentary message from the brand."

She hesitated before asking, "You didn't sign your name, right?"

Linda, "I did."

After finishing her coffee, Linda and Helen left.

The entire walk from the store to the car, Linda was thinking about what gifts to get for the store manager and the regional manager to properly express her gratitude.

Her phone vibrated repeatedly in her bag, but she didn't notice.

Helen glanced at her a few times before sighing and reminding her, "Your phone."

Linda was momentarily dazed before realizing Helen was telling her to check it.

She hadn't checked her messages all evening. An hour ago, her mother had asked when she'd be home, and she hadn't replied. Now, her mother was calling.

"Mom, I'm still out. Grabbing a late-night meal with Helen."

Diana sounded uncertain. "With Helen?"

"Yeah. She brought me my dress, so we decided to have dinner together."

"That's nice. Take your time and enjoy your meal."

Just as Linda was about to hang up, she heard her mother's car engine start. She instinctively checked the time. "Mom, you're just getting off work now?"

Diana chuckled, explaining why she was so late. "This afternoon, I suddenly got the urge to unify the interior design across all my supermarket branches. I also wanted to tweak the business model. So I spent the evening planning, only to calm down afterward and rethink it all. If only I were ten years younger-I'd still have the energy for all this."

"Linda, you and Helen enjoy your meal. I'm heading home now."

"Okay. Drive safe, Mom. Get some rest when you're home."

Linda's mother managed a chain of community supermarkets. With the recent opening of a new branch, she now had fifteen stores under her belt. The largest one spanned 2,000 square meters, while the smallest was over 200. Even with a management team, she still had plenty to worry about.

The supermarket chain had been around as long as Linda herself-twenty-five years. It even shared her name, Linda Supermarket.

After hanging up, Linda handed her car keys to the valet.

The valet, who had been leaning against the car door reading, tucked his book into his satchel and took the keys.

He wasn't much of a talker. After confirming the destination, he started driving in silence.

Inside the car, Helen suddenly smacked her forehead. "Ah, I forgot!"

Linda, "What is it?"

"My shirt! I left it at Riverside Restaurant."

The expensive white button-up, which Linda had hung in the closet earlier.

Helen called the restaurant to ask them to set the shirt aside-she was coming to pick it up now.

At the next intersection, the driver turned left toward Riverside Restaurant.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the ride.

When they arrived, Helen got out. "I'll go grab it."

Linda, lost in thought, glanced outside-and spotted a deep emerald-green SUV a few meters away.

It was the first time she'd seen this color in real life.

She lowered the window to get a better look at the Cullinan, using it as a distraction from her pain.

Inside the SUV, Rex sat alone. He happened to turn his head and, through the glass, locked eyes with Linda.

He could see her.

She couldn't see him.