Sebastian Vanderbilt, this man seemed too extraordinary.
Victoria is in a daze. Soon, realizing she is harboring unusual emotions, she shakes her head vigorously, trying to dismiss those strange thoughts.
It is a déjà vu moment.
"If you realize something's off, you should pull away quickly if you can."
"Do you really have that little confidence in me, that I would fall for just any man?"
The scene on the balcony that evening is vivid in her mind.
Affection? Impossible. Absolutely impossible!
Victoria's eyes clear, and she is resolute within.
Admiration. Yes, it is just an appreciation for a peer who is doing well! With that thought, Victoria feels much more at ease. After all, after this encounter, their lives will be like two parallel lines, never to intersect again.
"Vicky?"
"Yes."
"You can go change your clothes now," Seb reminds her.
"Now?" Victoria asks, puzzled.
"Yes, now."
Sebastian nods. The gossip of the secretary attending the family banquet must have spread throughout the house by now, and Victoria's first purpose has been achieved.
Now is the time to prepare for the next.
"Victoria, you can roam freely in the banquet hall later, but remember one thing: refuse any man's invitation to dance, any," Sebastian emphasizes.
"Even if it's from you, Mr. President?" Victoria blurts out, unsure why.
But she has no regrets and stands her ground.
Words without regret!
Perhaps, she is also looking forward to Sebastian's answer.
"Of course, it's okay if it's me."
Sebastian puts on a stern face: "Victoria, are you trying to reject your boss? Have you forgotten your role as a secretary?"
"Not all of the boss' words have to be obeyed, right?" Victoria's brows arch slightly.
Although she knows it is a jest, she can't help but retort.
"Of course, everything the President says should be heeded." Sebastian speaks seriously: "You should be clear that a secretary's duty is to serve your boss in every way!"
"In every way?" Victoria scoffs, a term laden with all sorts of implications.
The relationship between a president and secretary is often the source of particular storylines.
Quickly, she stares at the silent Sebastian, her eyes challenging.
Run out of words, huh?
Certainly caught onto the thoughts.
"You've misunderstood." After a slight pause, Sebastian clarifies and tries to calm down the weird atmosphere, "The 'every way' here is limited to within the scope of work."
"What else could there be?" Victoria asks with a sidelong smile, teasing.
"Else..."
Sebastian appears frustrated as if stifling an exasperated sigh, "What else, there's nothing else."
"Hah!" Victoria's eyes lift slightly, and with a light sneer, she seems to realize something and quickly turns to leave.
However, as she turns her back on Sebastian, her fair face is flushed red, and her beautiful eyes are filled with intoxicating shyness.
Bathed in the moonlight, the world is draped in a silver veil. The night breeze is cool. The oncoming night wind eases the heat on Victoria's face.
"How could you do something so outrageous!" "Truly shameless."
"Hey, Victoria, aren't you the one who's determined to become a great star in the future? Won't there be plenty of exceptional men to choose from then?"
"Hey, Victoria, do you think he deliberately stopped following along, or did he genuinely not understand the underlying message of what was just said?"
In the changing room, Victoria holds the evening dress that came with her suit, lost in thought.
Quickly, she grits her silver teeth. Whether he had deliberately not continued the conversation just now or not, she is ready to give him a 'surprise' later. She was once decided not to have complex relationship with the mysterious man, now her mind is filled with desire of conquering.
Deliberately not continuing?
When a man discovers that the subject of a potentially flirtatious conversation turns out to be the belle of the ball, some annoyance should surely frustrate him.
Inside the manor, the piano's melody is enchanting, reminiscent of clear water rippling over a stream. Under the soft lighting, a slender figure appears at the entrance of the banquet hall.
The young woman's figure is graceful, wearing a long black dress edged with red lace, like a fervent rose blooming in the night. Her delicate waist could be encircled by an arm, and the knee-length dress reveals a section of fair, slender legs, complemented by indigo high heels studded with tiny sparkling stones—her bearing is both elegant and warm.
Her makeup is subtle yet artfully accentuates her lovely eyes, and her black, wavy hair cascades down, its gentle curves perfectly framing her youthful beauty.
Victoria soon finds a quiet corner to stand, looking down with her fingers nervously fidgeting.
She begins to regret her boldness.
She is too outstanding, even in an event like this, where everyone is properly dressed. The fiery gazes from the men in the banquet hall seem almost too much, as if they could strip her with their eyes.
"Where is Sebastian?" At that moment, Victoria feels a wave of panic. She frantically scans the room, seeking Sebastian's figure.
As she looks up, she notices several unfamiliar figures have gathered around her, turning the once secluded corner into the center of attention.
"What are you looking at?" Sebastian, now in a silver-grey suit, comes up to the third floor and sees Abigail leaning on the balustrade, gazing downward with curiosity.
As he walks, he adjusts his bow tie—its presence at his neck gives him an odd sensation of being tethered, almost like a pet on a leash.
"Beneath every polished exterior often lies a nauseating truth. Just thinking about how my future can't escape such events makes me sick," Abigail says quietly as if she is talking about something completely unrelated to herself.
"Then become powerful enough to change all of that!" Sebastian approaches and says, "Rules are made by people, and changed by people..."
"So, just because I said I was looking for you, you felt compelled to boost my confidence?" Abigail seems to see through his motive, her voice tinged with mockery. "How comical it is—a cousin who shies away from family confrontations wants to teach me to be strong."
"What can I say?" Sebastian ponders for a moment, then explains, "Since most of my energy is consumed by more important matters, I hardly bother to retaliate unless someone truly harms me or crosses a line."
"A line?" Abigail scoffs, "All these years, I can't say I've ever seen where your line is."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Sebastian chuckles, "It means no one has truly hurt me."
"Does a woman count as a line?"
"What?"
"Your little lamb seems to be on the verge of being devoured by the wolves," Abigail observes, looking at a certain corner of the banquet hall with a hint of a smile.
"You mean Victoria?" Sebastian looks down and sees her curled up pitifully in a corner of the banquet hall, surrounded by men who look like hungry wolves with eyes gleaming green.
On the first floor.
The gazes are hot on the lamb in the corner. Wealth and women have always been the trophies of power and status for men.
The arduous pursuit is all for enjoyment, isn't it? Now, a captivating 'item' has appeared.
As businessmen, they are certain that if something is an item, it has a price—it just depends on how the owner prices it and if it's not for sale.
Patient hunters often have the advantage.
They are all waiting.
Waiting for the first to succumb to temptation.
Or rather, for the owner's identity to be revealed.
Finally, a young man in a white suit approaches the corner.
He is tall and dashing, with handsome features, and his eyes brighten as he looks at Victoria.
Around him, the hunters who have been restraining each other seem to waver, then scatter as if intimidated by the young man's identity.
Fabio Caboat. The youngest grandson of the Caboat conglomerate. His status as a young lion is enough to deter the pack of wolves.
Victoria lowers her head even more, regretting her decision even further.
She can feel the crowd dispersing around her.
But as in the laws of nature where the strong prey on the weak, one who can take another's food is surely higher up on the food chain.
And someone of such status—if he were to speak, would she really have the power to refuse?
Especially with the vague whispers she had heard about the high society...
"Sebastian, where are you?" Victoria is truly frightened now. The eighteen-year-old girl's eyes begin to well up with fear and anxiety.
Finally... The young man in white stops nearby.
Victoria can even see the dark brown leather shoes he wears.
But... "Miss, I have noticed you tangle along for a while. Would you mind I invite you for a dance?"
Fabio Caboat is taken aback; the words had not come from him.
Victoria suddenly looks up, the vulnerable look in her eyes not fading before it is replaced by sheer surprise.
Standing there, in a silver-grey suit, is Sebastian, his face beaming with a warm smile.