The hotel suite was dimly lit, the lighting giving the room a warm, ambiguous atmosphere. Wendy Lawson found herself kissing a handsome stranger, their bodies awkwardly stumbling together. Earlier that night, her ex-boyfriend Owen Brown had announced his engagement, and Wendy, devastated, had gone to a bar, drinking until she was completely intoxicated. Under the influence of alcohol and the allure of the man's good looks, Wendy had followed him here.
If Owen Brown could disregard their four-year relationship and leave her behind to marry a wealthy heiress, then surely she could indulge herself a little too.Just as things were about to go further…
Wendy leaned against the man's shoulder, forgetting everything around her. In a moment of vulnerability, she murmured the name, "Owen Brown," like a cat whispering in the dark.
Instantly, all intimacy came to a halt.
A soft sound followed, and suddenly, the lights brightened.
In the harsh glow of the lights, Wendy could now clearly see the man's face.
It was John Smith, the top lawyer in the country, a man feared throughout the legal world, often referred to as a devil in courtrooms. Not only did he own vast amounts of assets, making him a quintessential urban elite, but he also held another significant identity—he was Owen Brown's brother-in-law, the elder brother of the woman Owen had left Wendy for.
Suddenly, Wendy Lawson sobered up.
She closed her eyes slightly in disbelief. Seriously? She had almost ended up in bed with her ex-boyfriend's brother-in-law!
John Smith released her, stepping back. He leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette as he scanned her from head to toe with a playful expression. "How interesting… Miss Lawson," he remarked, the amusement clear in his voice. He flicked the ash from his cigarette, his tone casual, but the question sharp: "What was going through your mind when you kissed me? Were you hoping to sleep with me just to disgust Owen Brown?"
It was obvious that John Smith had recognized her as well.
Wendy Lawson had no way to pretend anymore.
John Smith was too famous. If she said she didn't know who he was, it would be too hypocritical, even if her earlier intoxication had prevented her from recognizing him. She also knew she couldn't afford to offend such a powerful figure, so all she could do was bow her head and apologize. "I'm sorry, Mr. Smith, I was drunk."
John Smith didn't make things difficult for her. After finishing his cigarette, he stood up straight, tossing her a coat. "Put this on. I'll take you home," he said.
Wendy Lawson, not wanting to make things awkward, accepted the coat without complaint and thanked him softly.
John Smith drove a Bentley Continental. The car ride was quiet, neither of them saying a word. Wendy occasionally glanced over at him.
John Smith's side profile was flawless—his features sharp and defined, with an air of elegance about him. Even the shirt he wore, though unbranded, exuded a sense of luxury. Wendy guessed that a man like him would never lack female attention.
When they finally arrived at her destination, John Smith parked the car. He turned toward her, his gaze lingering on her long, slender, pale legs for a moment before he reached into the front compartment, retrieving a business card which he handed to Wendy Lawson.
The implication behind his gesture was easy to understand—men and women and all that. It didn't take much to guess.
Wendy hadn't expected that even after recognizing who she was, John Smith would still want to take things further with her.
Although John Smith was undeniably attractive, and the experience of being with him would probably be quite something, Wendy couldn't help but feel a shiver of anxiety when she thought about his identity. After a brief moment of hesitation, she declined. "Lawyer Smith, I think it's better if we don't stay in touch."
John Smith didn't seem to mind.
Wendy Lawson was indeed beautiful, but he wasn't the type to force anyone. He withdrew the business card, even giving a slight nod with a touch of restraint. "Someone like you is definitely more suited to being a proper lady," he said, his voice calm but with a hint of mockery.
Wendy Lawson felt a little embarrassed, but John Smith remained as graceful as ever. He stepped out of the car and opened the door for her as though the intimate encounter of that evening had never happened.
The golden Bentley Continental slowly drove away.
A cold night breeze blew past, and Wendy Lawson felt a sudden chill sweep over her. Only then did she realize she was still wearing John Smith's coat.
She stood there for a moment, unsure if she should run after him to return the coat, when her phone rang.
The call was from Aunt Emily, and her voice was frantic, on the verge of tears. "Wendy, come home quickly! Something terrible has happened!"
Wendy immediately asked what was going on, but Aunt Emily couldn't explain clearly over the phone, only urging her to return as fast as possible.