03

Mia's POV

I closed the door, my back against the hallway wall, my heartbeat racing as if about to jump out of my throat.

I knew Calvin, but it wasn't a good thing, because now he hated me.

I took a deep breath, decided to stop thinking about him, and walked back to my workstation to start reading the documents, but I couldn't take in a single word.

Just as it was time to get off work, a torrential rain began outside.

I stood under the portico of Blackwood Gallery, watching the rain blur the Mayfair streetlights into fuzzy orbs of light.

In my hand was only a folding umbrella Zoe had stuffed in my bag. It was small and printed with some supermarket logo, looking completely out of place with everything here.

"Mia."

Ethan's voice came from behind. His Rolls-Royce was parked at the bottom of the steps, the driver already waiting with a black umbrella.

"Get in," he said, "I'll give you a ride. In this weather, half the Kentish Town Tube will definitely be flooded."

"No need, I—"

"Don't be polite with me," Ethan interrupted. His bedroom eyes looked especially bright in the rainy night. "You look terrible. I don't want to lose a good assistant who just started tomorrow."

I hesitated for two seconds, then got into the car.

The heater was on full blast inside. The car stereo played very soft jazz. Ethan sat on the other side, a tablet on his lap, apparently handling emails.

The car had just left Mayfair and turned onto High Holborn when a series of urgent honks came from behind.

The honking didn't sound like a warning, but more like some kind of arrogant declaration.

I instinctively looked back. A limited edition Bugatti Chiron shot out from the rain like a black phantom. It abruptly changed lanes to overtake, its tires churning through the waterlogged road and splashing up huge sheets of water.

"Tsk." Ethan frowned and glanced at the rearview mirror with displeasure. "People who drive cars like that usually think the roads were built by their family and they can drive however they want."

After overtaking, the Bugatti didn't speed away but maintained a distance neither too far nor too close ahead. I stared at the car's rear end and found the license plate somewhat familiar.

It was Calvin. Was he following me?

"Are you okay?" Ethan suddenly spoke, interrupting my thoughts.

"I'm fine," I pinched my palm, "just a bit carsick."

Ethan said nothing more and had the driver slow down.

The car soon stopped at an intersection near my apartment.

"Thank you, Ethan," I smiled at him and pushed open the door. "See you tomorrow."

"Mia." He called me back.

I turned around. The rain had lessened. His face looked somewhat blurred behind the car window.

"The Rothschilds," Ethan paused, "really aren't easy to deal with. If he makes you uncomfortable, please tell me immediately. Though Blackwood doesn't compare to Rothschild, we can still protect our own employees."

I was stunned for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you."

Ethan's car left, but I noticed that in the shadows beyond the streetlights' reach, the Bugatti slowly came to a stop.

I immediately fled into the apartment building.

Leo was already asleep. Yesterday, Zoe insisted on coming to look after him every day before I took him to school.

"Leo was very good today too," Zoe said with emotion, "This is the most well-behaved little kid I've ever seen."

Faced with Zoe's praise of Leo, I pulled the corners of my mouth into a bitter smile. If possible, I would rather he not be so sensible.

Leo's small body was curled up in the deep blue rocket sheets, still clutching an open picture book.

I tiptoed over and pulled the book from his hands. It was a copy of "The Little Prince."

Leo smacked his lips in his sleep and mumbled "Mommy" indistinctly.

"I'm here," I bent down and kissed his forehead. "Sleep."

After tucking Leo in, I quietly retreated to the living room and threw myself onto the sofa.

Outside, the rain gradually stopped. I stared at the ceiling fan, but my eyes involuntarily began to sting.

Five years ago, I planted a seed of lies. Five years later, I reaped the bitter fruit: I couldn't give Leo a complete family, couldn't give myself an honest past, couldn't even give Calvin a word of truth.

I raised my hand to cover my eyes and sighed helplessly, "Oh God, Mia, you're such a coward."