After a tumultuous evening, Summer Thorne didn't get home until late at night.
The villa was quiet. It seemed everyone in the family had already gone to bed.
Summer Thorne slowly made her way to the second floor. As she rounded the corner, she was startled by the sight of a ghastly pale face—a young woman staring at her with eyes full of resentment.
"Summer Thorne." Georgia Sutton used her full name. "Did you go see Silas Dunn?"
"Yes." Summer was too tired to waste another word on her.
A corner of Georgia Sutton's mouth twitched. "I knew it. I knew you'd go and ruin things for me."
Summer was exhausted and had no desire to get entangled with her. She tried to sidestep Georgia and go to her room, but her sister blocked her path again.
"You must be so smug right now, aren't you, Summer? Our family is finally in trouble, we're about to be ruined, and you couldn't be happier, could you?"
"Shut your mouth!"
A hushed voice suddenly came from behind Georgia. Iris Pryce hurried forward and grabbed her daughter's arm. "That's enough nonsense. Apologize to your sister!"
Georgia jutted out her chin defiantly. "Sister? What kind of sister is she? She even changed her name! She took her mother's surname, Thorne, not Sutton! She's just waiting for the Sutton family to fall apart, so what right does she have to strut around our home acting all high and mighty?"
Iris Pryce raised her hand and slapped her. "And you still don't think you're in the wrong?"
"I'm wrong? What did I do wrong? I was just trying to help the family get through this crisis!"
"You dare say more!" Iris's voice dropped to a fierce whisper. "This family has enough trouble as it is. Your father's health is getting worse by the day, and you go and get involved with someone like Silas Dunn? Are you trying to kill him with anger?"
"At least I'm better than her, aren't I?" Georgia pointed at Summer. "I was trying to help the family! And her? She wants to divorce Mason Crawford at a time like this. Is she afraid our family isn't being ruined fast enough? She's always believed you stole Dad away, and now she's finally found her chance for revenge. She's just waiting for us to go completely bankrupt, and you're still counting on her! She's nothing but an ungrateful wretch—"
Summer's head was throbbing. She couldn't be bothered to listen to them argue and turned to go back to her bedroom.
After a hot shower, Summer still felt groggy. When she opened the bathroom door, she found Iris Pryce sitting on the edge of her bed. There was no telling how long she'd been waiting.
"Ava, Georgia is just immature. Don't take what she said to heart."
The year her parents divorced, Summer had insisted on changing her name and taking her mother's surname. After that, her father, Austin Sutton, only ever called her by her childhood nickname. Iris Pryce had followed his lead ever since she married into the family.
Summer walked over and sat on the bed. "Don't worry," she said. "Things with Silas Dunn should be resolved."
Iris Pryce nodded, as if she'd known all along that Summer would be able to handle it.
After a moment of silence, she asked, "And what about you? He didn't give you a hard time, did he?"
It was a question of concern, but her tone was still stiff and formal.
She was always like this. Summer didn't mind and simply shook her head.
Iris didn't press further. She stood up. "This must have been difficult for you. Get some rest."
Summer nodded, and her body gave way as she collapsed onto the bed.
'I'm so tired and sleepy, I should be able to fall asleep right away.' But two hours later, she was still wide awake.
'There was just too much to think about.'
'Mason Crawford despised her, and by extension, he hated the Sutton family. He refused to grant her a divorce, willing to endure their disgusting marriage just so he could force her to watch the Sutton family go bankrupt and fall into ruin...'
'Whether she bore the title of Mrs. Crawford or not, everyone in Valois took their cues from Mason Crawford.'
'Under these circumstances, there was no way to save the Sutton family.'
'Austin Sutton was collapsing under the strain. Iris Pryce, who seemed so cold, only truly cared about her husband and her own two children. Georgia had just turned eighteen, and their younger brother, Louis, was only sixteen. With a lineup like that, plus her—the liability known as Mrs. Crawford—anyone could see it...'
'Hopeless.'
'But was it really hopeless?'
For some reason, Summer's thoughts drifted back to the mysterious man in Silas Dunn's room.
'He'd stayed in the shadows, as if he didn't want anyone to know who he was.'
'The normally fun-loving, rowdy Silas Dunn hadn't had a single woman with him during their meeting, and had been so bored he resorted to playing on his phone.'
'He seemed to be on good terms with Silas, yet he showed not a single trace of Silas's flashy, dissolute air.'
'She'd never seen anyone like him among the scions of Valois's great families.'
'Who in the world could he be?'
...
The night passed. Summer had only managed an hour or two of fitful sleep. She tried to catch a bit more in the morning but woke up feeling even groggier. She must have caught a chill the night before.
Summer went downstairs, found two cold pills, and swallowed them. She sat on the sofa in a daze for a while before remembering she had plans for the day.
Tonight was the York family's annual charity banquet on the west side of the city. In the past, Summer almost never attended such events, but this time, she had already booked a stylist, preparing to attend as Mrs. Crawford.
Even though it was the dead of winter, Summer chose a custom-tailored, modern-style cheongsam. Its galaxy-blue fabric seemed understated at first glance but was adorned with a shimmering light, as if she were wearing the entire night sky.
"This color suits you perfectly, Miss Thorne. It makes your skin glow. You're so beautiful it should be illegal."
She was a new client, and the stylist didn't hold back on the compliments.
Summer let out a loud sneeze as she put on a pair of sapphire earrings. "Yes, well, I rarely go out. If I'm not going to be beautiful, who's going to look at me?"
'Mason Crawford wanted her to be trapped in the role of Mrs. Crawford forever. And admittedly, he had the power to make it happen.'
'But that was only possible because for the past two years, she, his wife, had never put a foot out of line.'
'Even though Mason detested her, she had never used her status as Mrs. Crawford to do anything that would cause a scandal.'
'That's why he could tolerate the marriage, using it as a way to torture her.'
'But what if she changed?'
'Could Mason still tolerate it then?'
Just then, her phone rang. Summer glanced at the caller ID and took the call out in the hallway.
The styling studio was in a small, detached building along the river. Answering the phone, Summer pushed open a door at the end of the hall.
The room was empty except for a large sofa, probably a lounge area for clients. Another door likely led to a restroom.
Summer stepped inside, closing the door behind her before finally answering the call.
An apologetic laugh came from the other end. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. The male escort you requested had a bit of an emergency and can't make it today. Would it be all right if we sent you a replacement?"
Summer suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "I've already paid, and you're telling me this now?"
"We are truly sorry. We can replace him with someone of comparable height, looks, and stamina. How does that sound? We guarantee he'll take very good care of you."
"So, you're saying I spend my money here, but you get to decide which man I get?" Summer wasn't feeling well and had no patience for this. "Refund my money, and pay ten times that in damages. Then do everyone a favor and go out of business."
With that, she hung up and walked toward the restroom.
The instant she pushed the door open, she realized something was wrong.
Billowing steam swirled around the bright ceiling light. Beneath it stood a tall man with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He wore nothing but a towel knotted at his hips, and he was leaning silently against the vanity, watching her barge in.
His deep-set eyes were dark and unreadable.
'It was him. The man she had just seen last night.'