"After all, my arms aren't long."
"?"
Kristen's brows knit. She eyed his elegant fingers deftly knotting the tie, full of doubt.
Jason said lightly, "Prosthetic."
With that, he turned and left the room.
Kristen stood there, thrown off-balance, turning over one question in her mind: when exactly did she offend him?
Downstairs in the dining room, Jason was already seated at the table. After setting out breakfast, the staff slipped away tactfully.
Kristen took the seat to his right. The spread in front of her was generous—seafood congee, crystal buns, steamed dumplings…
Carb overload.
She lifted a spoon and sipped the congee in small, careful tastes.
Seeing her eat even less and slower than a kitten, Jason's brows moved. He set down his chopsticks and said in a low voice, "Didn't you say you didn't want to come?"
Kristen's movement stalled. She looked up with a small, composed smile. "Had too much to drink last night. Please don't mind it, Mr. Jason."
A faint curve tugged at his lips, almost-smiling. "Sobered up fast."
"…"
She pretended not to hear the mockery, dropped her gaze, and ate in silence—before she knew it, she had finished a bowl of congee.
She rubbed her temple, wincing at the thought: if Martin found out, he'd force her onto a treadmill for two hours.
Jason, long used to stopping at seventy percent full, set down his utensils and picked up a towel to wipe his hands, then rose to leave.
"Mr. Jason…" Kristen stood up too quickly and nearly bumped the table leg.
He paused and glanced back.
"It's just…" She hesitated, then spoke slowly. "I'm a public figure, so I hope we can keep our relationship confidential. The fewer people who know, the better."
A star dating a billionaire isn't new, but her affair with Jason couldn't see daylight. If exposed, it would affect her reputation and future roles.
Jason's eyes were ink-dark. "Including Finn?"
A prick of pain stabbed Kristen's chest. Breath catching, she nodded after a beat.
Not because she feared Finn knowing—she simply didn't want further entanglement with him, for now.
A chill passed, subtle and noiseless, over Jason's fine features. He gave her a long look, then turned and left.
Kristen couldn't decipher that look. What had she said wrong? This going public would do him no good either, right?!
With Jason gone, being in the unfamiliar villa made her skin itch with discomfort. She went upstairs to sort her clothes, planning to separate her lingerie from his.
But when she opened the drawer, it was already full—no space left for her at all.
She drew a deep breath, folded her lingerie neatly, and tucked it to one side, avoiding contact with his as much as possible.
Her phone rang—Martin.
"Director Hong is starting a new drama—ensemble cast. One of the female leads is perfect for you. I've set up a meeting. I'll send you the location; get here quick."
He hung up as briskly as he spoke.
"So fast?" Kristen murmured, surprised.
She picked a white dress from the closet and changed. No makeup—just a quick swipe of lipstick—then headed downstairs.
At the door, Old He appeared out of nowhere, respectful. "Miss Liang, going out?"
She jumped, then steadied. "Mm. Didn't you… take Mr. Jin?"
"Secretary Leon picked him up," Old He explained. "Until a permanent driver is assigned, I'll take you wherever you need to go."
Kristen was used to booking rides. Having a driver felt strange.
"I can just order a car."
Old He kept a pleasant smile, the resolve beneath it firm. "Mr. Jin's instructions."
Her smile froze. She didn't insist further.
Old He drove a black Bentley today. Not as flashy as Jason's Maybach, but hardly discreet.
In the car, Kristen drew several deep breaths, tamping down her frustration, and focused on how to handle the meeting with Director Hong.
Café.
Kristen spotted Martin as soon as she walked in—and beside him, Director Hong, eyes on his phone.
Martin stood and waved. When Kristen came close, he bent with a bright grin. "Director Hong, this is Kristen. Isn't she just right for your role?"
"Hello, Director Hong. I'm Kristen," she said, voice light, neither humble nor pushy.
Director Hong set his phone down, slow and deliberate. His eyes lit when he saw her. He'd barely drawn breath to speak when a honeyed voice drifted from a distance—
"Director Hong…"
- Kristen: Don't want to see that scumbag. Annoying.
- Jason: Annoying that there's still a scumbag in my wife's heart. (smoking)
( End of Chapter)
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