Chapter 11

It took Vincent a moment to collect himself before he finally spoke in a low voice. "Once the stew's ready, have the driver bring it to the office." Stew for lunch? That was fine too. Diana's tone was soft, and her face was still glowing with a faint, serene smile. "Alright. I'll try experimenting with different recipes next time. You've been working too hard. It's taking a toll on your body." Vincent reached for her hand resting on her knee with a gentle expression. "Thank you." From the corner of the room, Maria watched their interaction quietly, and a warm smile tugged at her lips. To see Vincent and Diana finding their way back to each other was all Maria had ever wanted. At 3:30 pm, Vincent, clad in a black suit, held Diana's hand as they stepped onto the red carpet. They walked into the venue with grace. The moment they appeared, all the reporters looked in their direction. All of them aimed their cameras at the couple. "Get a shot of them. Quick! Mr. and Mrs. Hendrix are here!" "The handsome golden boy and the stunning socialite. What a perfect couple!" "Wait, wasn't there talk about Mr. Hendrix being infatuated with that rising star, Gabriella?" "Shhh! Do you have a death wish? You're not paparazzi. Don't go spreading rumors today. If Mr. Hendrix hears you and gets mad, you're doomed." With Diana and Vincent's arrival, the atmosphere inside the ballroom lifted. Somewhere in the crowd, voices murmured, "Hey, where's the Scotts' heir? Why's Eric Scott here instead?" "You don't know? The Scotts' heir has been on bad terms with Mr. Peter Scott for years. He even changed his last name to his mom's at 18 to cut ties with his family completely." "But that guy is the only real heir to the Scott family. Eric Scott is just Mr. Peter Scott's stepson, and they're not even blood-related. I don't think he would give the entire Scott Corporation to Eric, right?" "Well, the Scott family and the Hendrix family are the most prominent families in Heyton. There's a lot of drama happening behind the doors of these wealthy families. People like us should just sit back and watch it unfold." Diana walked around the ballroom in a light blue gown, and everyone couldn't take their eyes off her. Just then, a young socialite exclaimed, "Wow! Mrs. Hendrix is even more beautiful than I imagined. She's more stunning than she looked on TV." Her friend immediately agreed, "Right? It seems like Mrs. Hendrix doesn't look that good in photos. I always thought her photos online were gorgeous, but her beauty is on another level in real life. "The photos taken by the photographers don't do her beauty justice." Diana's delicate wrist rested gently on Vincent's arm. When they reached the steps, he casually extended his hand. She didn't hesitate. Her fair, slender fingers slipped into his large, steady palm. His hand was warm, and her fingers were just a little chilly to the touch. Her hand was just like her, soft and cold. Vincent instinctively tightened his grip before he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Are you cold?" Since Gabriella came between them, moments like this had become rare. When Diana saw the concern in his eyes, it almost startled her. It had been so long since he looked at her like that. He was striking that night. He looked tall and strong in the black suit, exuding the charm of a mature man. Diana wasn't sure when it happened, but the hasty and bright boy from her memories had grown into that calm and steady heir of the Hendrix family, who was reliable and respectable. She looked up at him, and her lips instinctively curved as she shook her head. Then, without looking up, she murmured, "Promise me something. Once we go in, would you silence your phone?" Vincent was confused. "Why?" She didn't answer his question. Instead, she looked him in the eyes. "Just promise me." Although her voice remained soft and calm, and she was still smiling faintly, Vincent could sense how firm she was. "Alright," he agreed. Vincent was a man of his word. After promising Diana, he took his phone and unlocked it right in front of her. Diana's gaze fell on the screen. There was a long list of unread messages. Undoubtedly, those messages were from Gabriella. Vincent glanced up at Diana instinctively, and his thumb paused. For a moment, it looked like he might click on the messages, but he didn't. Instead, he put the phone on silent. Without a word, he turned off the screen and slipped the phone back into his pocket. Now that the phone was on silent mode, it wouldn't matter how many times Gabriella called or texted. Vincent wouldn't know it. At least until the charity gala was over, he wouldn't let a call or a single word from Gabriella distract him and leave Diana to face everything alone again. The charity gala went on smoothly. Despite her reserved nature, Diana handled social events with ease. She never faltered and never messed things up. After all, the Gyleon family was still a part of the upper class even though their wealth and influence in Heyton weren't on par with the Hendrix and Scott families. "Mrs. Hendrix, it's an honor to finally meet you." Eric Scott, the Scott family's stepson, approached with a polite smile. He raised his wine glass to greet Diana. Diana responded with a polite smile that she usually put on when she attended social events. "Mr. Eric Scott, nice to meet you." Peter Scott wasn't in good health, and his only biological son, Charlie Scott, had cut ties with him and refused to acknowledge him as his father. Charlie had even taken his mother's surname and was now Charlie Jackman. Eric was managing the entire Scott Corporation for now. The affairs of the elites were rarely discussed in public, and Diana neither knew nor cared about the drama of the Scott family. The Scott family and the Hendrix family were competitors at some points, but they cooperated well in some situations, too. After all, interests mattered the most in the business world. No matter what kind of person Eric truly was, it would be better to be on good terms with him than to show hostility. The charity gala wrapped up without any hiccups. The chauffeur drove the car steadily, and when they passed by a park, Diana gazed out the window for a moment, then suddenly said, "Stop the car." "What's wrong, Mrs. Hendrix?" the chauffeur asked as he stepped on the brake. Diana smiled faintly. "Nothing. I just feel like taking a walk. It's not far, so I'll walk back home." It was late afternoon. Fall had settled in, and it was slightly chilly out there. There were only a few people in the park. The wind rustled through the trees with a quiet melancholy, making the paths look even emptier. "I'll walk with you," Vincent said suddenly after a moment of silence. Diana was taken aback, but she didn't argue. The two of them walked side by side down the stone path in the park. He was tall and aloof, but she was frail and gentle. In the distance, the sunset cast its orange glow across the sky. They strolled in comfortable silence. At some point, Diana reached out, almost tentatively, and slipped her hand into his. Without missing a beat, Vincent wrapped his fingers gently around hers. "Young man." A deep voice rang out behind them. They turned to see an old man sitting by a bench in the park. He looked blind—his eyes were clouded and unfocused. In front of him seemed to be those props for fortune telling. There was a cloth laid out neatly, and it was covered in symbols Diana didn't recognize. "Let's go. He's just a con artist." Vincent frowned and held Diana's hand, ready to walk away.