The city blurred into shadows under the scattered, dim streetlights and sheets of rain.

A man stood silently by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the lone figure at the gate with a detached gaze.

Lila Thompson stood there without an umbrella, rain soaking her to the bone. Through the iron bars, she noticed someone approaching, holding an umbrella.

She gripped the bars tightly, squinting through the downpour, trying to figure out who it was.

“Miss Thompson, you should go back. Mr. Evans doesn’t want to see you,” said Uncle Zhong, his voice apologetic as he handed a black umbrella across the gate.

Lila shivered, her frozen fingers clutching her soaked clothes. Without thinking twice, she shook her head. “I’m not leaving unless I see him,” her voice firm.

Her words got swallowed by the rain, loud and relentless. Uncle Zhong hesitated, then slowly withdrew his hand and turned to leave. Just then, headlights pierced the rain and made Lila squint.

An orange BMW pulled up. Uncle Zhong pressed the remote, and the gate opened slowly as the car halted at the entrance.

Lila’s face darkened as Gia Thompson stepped out.

Dressed in a soft white dress, Gia looked composed and gentle—total opposite of Lila, who wore striking red.

Gia approached with an umbrella raised, but before she could speak, Lila swatted the umbrella away.

It flew into a puddle, spun once, and lay still.

“Spare me the fake sympathy,” Lila said coldly, turning her back on her.

Uncle Zhong hurriedly shielded Gia with his umbrella.

“Lila, if this is about money, just go home. I’ll figure something out for you,” Gia said gently.

Standing in the pouring rain, Lila bit her lip. “Drop it. I don’t need your help.”

Her pride wouldn’t let her bow down to anyone—especially not to Gia, who had taken her place in the Thompson family.

The wind got sharper, slicing through her clothes like needles, making her tremble uncontrollably.

And still, she didn’t move. Neither did Gia.

“Miss Gia, standing out here any longer… Mr. Evans won’t be happy…” Uncle Zhong’s voice trailed off as he saw a tall man stride out from the villa.

He walked right past Lila like she didn’t exist and went straight to Gia, slipping an arm around her. “Let’s go inside.”

Lila had never heard Julian Evans use that kind of voice—so soft, almost tender. With her, he’d only ever spoken with disdain. At the beginning, he used to tell her off. Then, it became silence. Eventually, not even a glance.

Gia looked at Lila, about to say something, but Julian cut in flatly, “Unless you want me angry, don’t say a word.”

He held Gia, turning to go, brushing past Lila.

That was the moment everything in her just caved in. For the sake of her mom’s company, she swallowed her pride and reached out, grabbing his sleeve.

“Julian, can we talk?” Her voice trembled, even as she tried to hold it steady. “Please.”

“I told you, I don’t want to see you.” He looked at her coldly. “Lila Thompson, you’re the most shameless woman I’ve ever met.” With that, he pulled his arm away.

She stared at her now-empty hand. His words sliced into her. Not deep, but sharp enough to draw blood.

She had loved him for ten years, and all she got in return was disgust. She couldn’t wrap her head around it—was she really that unlikable, so much so that he couldn’t even spare her a glance?

“I don’t have a choice. You’re the only one in Pucheng who can help me.”

But he didn’t flinch, didn’t turn around. Just then, a muted splash broke through the rain—a faint thud of something falling into the puddle behind him.