Men like Theodore left the most distinct stroke in the tapestry of time with his appearance. He was nearly impossible to forget even after a single encounter, not to mention that he'd been Cassandra's rival, equal, and sharp edge that met her own. 

Even their professor, Peter Barton, had once teasingly called them a rare pair of brilliant rivals, destined to never coexist.

Now, as Theodore's tall, refined figure drew closer, his dark tailored suit accentuated his sharp facial features. He was reminiscent of a classical statue with an almost untouchable, divine air.

He was even more dangerous than he'd been seven years ago, calmer and deeper, like a vortex that could swallow one whole without stirring a ripple.

Right now, all Cassandra wanted was to run. What could be worse than running into her former sworn enemy when she was at her lowest and when he was clearly thriving?

If he rec

"Can't you understand me?" Theodore asked.

Wayne swallowed hard in fear as he instinctively tried to flee. But the moment he lifted his foot, two bodyguards in black stepped forward and delivered two kicks to the back of his knees.

As he crumpled to the ground, his knees slammed into the floor, and his bones cracked with a sickening sound. A cry of pain rose in his throat, but it was stifled before it could escape.

Theodore slowly closed in. His eyes were cold and detached, as if he were looking at something already dead.

"Pull out every last tooth in his mouth." After giving those instructions, he turned and walked toward the edge of the terrace. From his place, he could glimpse a corner of the main entrance.

He stood in silence and watched as the slender Cassandra tapped her white cane ahead of her and climbed into a van.

"Cassandra Monroe…" he murmured.

For a moment, the frost 

For fear that she might barge in and slap the two cheating lovers across the face, Cassandra slipped on her sunglasses and quietly turned to leave.

In the private room, Sebastian sat in the corner, watching Olivia's face flush under the teasing. He drained his glass in one go as an inexplicable bitterness spread in his chest.

As he set the empty glass down, a fleeting figure outside the door caught his eye. He paused slightly, finding it extra familiar.

"Enough now, Elle," Gregory said, pulling Noelle's hand off Olivia's and lifting her into his arms helplessly. "Go play with your brother inside."

Seeing Noelle refusing to leave, Olivia crouched down to appease her. "Elle, shall I…"

She eyed Gregory and hesitantly continued, "Shall I come with you?"

Noelle had always adored Olivia and immediately nodded obediently.

Sebastian watched as Olivia carried Noelle into the inner room. Then, he stealthily stood up and took the seat next to Gregory. 

"How's Cassandra, Greg? Is she still unconscious?" he asked, going straight to the point.

Gregory's fingers paused over his phone. After a moment, he replied, "She woke up yesterday."

Startled, Sebastian couldn't help but flick his gaze back to look outside the door. So, the woman he'd just seen looking strikingly like Cassandra was probably…

"She—"

"She's blind," Gregory calmly cut him off before he could ask further. "No idea when her sight will ever recover. She's always been proud, so I don't want anyone knowing she's awake until she's completely healed."

Blind? A blind woman couldn't have possibly been standing outside their private room, peeking in, so he must have mistaken someone else for her.

Sebastian swallowed whatever words he'd been about to say.

Gregory's gaze returned to his phone, where the screen showed a message from Serena two hours ago. "A car came to pick up Mrs. Hart, Mr. Hart!"

From the photo of the license plate attached, Gregory recognized that it was Evelyn's car at a glance.

It was no surprise. Cassandra's world was pitifully small. Apart from revolving around him, the loud, temperamental Evelyn was the only friend she associated with. The Caldwells had long fallen from grace, so he'd always looked down on Evelyn.

And Cassandra was tactful enough. Over the years, she never brought up Evelyn in front of him, though she remained close friends with her in private and occasionally kept in touch.

She'd left to meet Evelyn without telling him beforehand. It was probably out of fear of upsetting him.

A faint, smug smile tugged at the corner of Gregory's lips. Every thought Cassandra had was as clear as day to him.

He leaned back on the couch as the warm light softened his handsome features. Only his eyes remained cold and detached.

Cassandra was perfect. She was flawless as a wife and business partner, but a woman too easy to read was like a glass of clear, utterly tasteless water…

…

Cassandra sneezed hard. As she looked at the branching hallway ahead, her lips twitched in helplessness.

It'd been five years, and the interior of Weber's had been renovated once with significant expansions. She'd initially intended to retrace her steps, only to end up getting lost on this very floor after getting too distracted.

While she was looking for signs on the walls and floor, not paying attention, she almost bumped into a man who suddenly appeared around the corner.

"Are you fucking blind?" the man, Wayne Bowers, cursed loudly. He had a beer belly and a gold chain as thick as a thumb hanging around his barely visible neck, clearly a nouveau riche here for entertainment.

Cassandra caught the smell of alcohol on him. Preferring to avoid trouble, she lowered her head and waved her white cane, feigning to find her way. "Apologies, but I can't see."

That only seemed to egg him on. "Oh, so you are blind."

Through the sunglasses, Cassandra watched as Wayne's fleshy, lewd face inched closer. The stench of alcohol that hit her made her stomach churn with nausea.

"Not bad looking, though, and you smell nice too. I'm a doctor, so let me fix those eyes for you," he said, grinning.

"Move," she snapped icily.

Still, Wayne didn't take the seemingly frail Cassandra seriously at all. He leered and teased, "Beg nicely, and I'll let you pass. How about that?"

Cassandra had been simmering in anger all day, with nowhere to vent, and Wayne had just volunteered to be her outlet.

Her gaze flickered to the security cameras overhead before she backed away, feigning fear and hopelessness. "I don't believe you're a doctor. Please don't come any closer. I'm scared…"

As she pleaded, she began drawing him step by step into the security camera's blind spot.

Drunk and aroused by her pitiful, trembling act, Wayne rubbed his hands and eagerly followed her into the corner. "Don't be scared, sweetheart. Come with me to the private room, and I'll make sure to fix your eyes for you tonight!"

Behind the sunglasses, a cold glint flashed in Cassandra's eyes. Her grip on the cane tightened as she knew that one strike to a specific spot would paralyze half of the disgusting Wayne's body. Then, she'd kick and crush his crotch!

Just as Wayne's plump hands reached out and Cassandra was about to act, a man in a suit suddenly appeared from behind him. He grabbed Wayne's outstretched hand and twisted it hard.

Wayne howled in pain.

Startled, Cassandra began taking in her unexpected savior, who'd appeared to save the damsel in distress. He seemed to be around 30 years old and radiated the presence of an elite executive. She was confident she'd never seen him before.

Wesley had already held Wayne by the back of his head and slammed his face hard into the wall. Then, he coldly said, "If you're drunk, go back and lie in your room, sir. Would you like me to escort you there?"

Half-sober from fright now, Wayne quickly begged for mercy, "N-No, that's not necessary. I-I'll just go back myself…"

Just as he tried to leave, a low, mellow, yet indifferent voice sounded from behind him, edged with a hint of a laugh. But his tone carried a bone-chilling cold that could freeze a person's bones to ice.

"What makes you think you can leave that easily?"

That voice…

Cassandra's body uncontrollably stiffened. She slowly turned to gaze toward the back, only to see Theodore leisurely walking toward her several feet away. The pale hallway light filtered through her sunglasses into a soft, yellowish hue very much like the sunset at dusk.

For a moment, Cassandra felt as if she was back to that day at the airport, seven years ago. Theodore from seven years ago perfectly overlapped with the man before her.

"Cassandra Monroe, is it worth it?"

That sentence surged from the depths of her memory, striking her soul like a heavy drum and making her tremble violently.

It had been seven years…

Men like Theodore left the most distinct stroke in the tapestry of time with his appearance. He was nearly impossible to forget even after a single encounter, not to mention that he'd been Cassandra's rival, equal, and sharp edge that met her own. 

Even their professor, Peter Barton, had once teasingly called them a rare pair of brilliant rivals, destined to never coexist.

Now, as Theodore's tall, refined figure drew closer, his dark tailored suit accentuated his sharp facial features. He was reminiscent of a classical statue with an almost untouchable, divine air.

He was even more dangerous than he'd been seven years ago, calmer and deeper, like a vortex that could swallow one whole without stirring a ripple.

Right now, all Cassandra wanted was to run. What could be worse than running into her former sworn enemy when she was at her lowest and when he was clearly thriving?

If he recognized her in this state, he'd probably laugh himself awake, judging from how much he despised her…

Chapter 12