Suddenly, Evelyn Lewis understood why the bar had left her with such a strange feeling—exquisite, it was an extremely refined style of décor, a kind of exquisiteness that revealed an obsession with perfection from the very core. Just like the arrangement of this office, every decoration in the room, even every screw on the furniture, exuded an aggressive sense of refinement.

Minimalism taken to the extreme becomes exquisiteness.

This style of decoration automatically screened its guests. Silently, it established the bar’s clientele and market positioning. Under such an aggressive refinement, only those who truly know how to savor life could sit down leisurely and enjoy a drink without feeling out of place.

These people were often adept at blending into their surroundings, so although they were few in number, they merged with the bar’s environment, together forming the bar’s unique atmosphere. Their presence kept the bar from feeling deserted; instead, because of them, a relaxed and easygoing vibe floated in the air.

The woman across from her spoke: “Little girl, this isn’t a place for you.”

As soon as she opened her mouth, it was indeed not something pleasant. Although she tried hard to sound friendly, the condescending attitude in her words made Evelyn Lewis feel uncomfortable.

“I’m looking for Mr. Sutton…” Under such an aggressive aura, Evelyn Lewis quickly stated her purpose. Her tone was timid. The other woman straightened her back, a faint hostility appearing in her eyes as she sized up Evelyn Lewis.

“A friend asked me to bring a note to Mr. Sutton,” Evelyn Lewis added.

“Who?”

“Wendy Lane, my senior.”

“Oh.” The other woman relaxed, leaned back in her high-backed chair, looked Evelyn Lewis up and down, and after a moment of silence, said, “At this hour, the boss is daydreaming on the terrace. No one dares disturb him now… Oh well, I’ll take you.”

The woman stood up, stubbed out her cigarette, took out a compact mirror, smoothed her already immaculate hair, touched up her lipstick, then scanned herself up and down in the mirror. Satisfied, she put the mirror away and said, “Follow me?”

Goodness, after making herself this neat, she still had to check her appearance. Is that Charles Sutton really that picky with people?

Seeing how cautious this woman was, Evelyn Lewis couldn’t help but glance at herself—a pair of hot pants, a ponytail, a cool off-shoulder top, sandals on her feet, all cheap stuff, as simple as could be. It seemed there was no need to dress up any further.

After a slight hesitation, Evelyn Lewis immediately followed the woman.

The terrace was even dimmer, with only the faint flicker of neon lights from the street shining through the glass window into this rooftop glass room. The woman walked ahead confidently, heading straight for the window. When Evelyn Lewis approached, she saw that in the darkness, someone was sitting there, lost in thought.

The person was dressed in black, not even making a sound as he breathed, sitting quietly by the window. He carried a deep melancholy, as if he were a black hole, swallowing all the light and making his figure blend completely into the night.

The dazzling lights, the bustling city, handsome men and beautiful women, luxury and decadence… all of this was playing out in endless cycles outside the glass window. Yet, everything outside had nothing to do with the person inside. He seemed to stand apart from the world, coldly observing the vastness of life.

In an instant, this intense sorrow infected Evelyn Lewis. Overcome by emotion, she almost burst into tears.

Wandering in a city that doesn’t belong to her, living on the edge of this city, striving for her dreams, struggling for her life! Walking through the city, it felt as if everything around her had nothing to do with her. She was just an insignificant speck of dust in this city, destined never to have a brilliant life!

Just then, the woman snorted, rudely reached out and turned on a lamp, breaking the mood. A table and a chair, a bottle and a glass, appeared before them.

A long-necked, wide-bellied crystal wine bottle, filled with ruby-red liquid, sat beside a tall-stemmed wine glass. The lamp was on the table, the wine in the bottle.

The change in lighting snapped Evelyn Lewis back to reality. She flicked her ponytail, tossing the sadness that had just surfaced behind her.

As the light came on, the man by the window seemed to return to this world as well. His melancholy, his loneliness, his indifference—all vanished the moment the light was switched on. He lifted his pale face, blinked. Instantly, a roguish smile appeared, lazy, indifferent to everything: “What’s up? Isn’t it…”

“Boss, Miss Lai sent you another note,” the woman’s reply cut him off. For some reason, Evelyn Lewis felt that the woman’s tone didn’t sound like a subordinate addressing her employer. There was a certain sternness in her words. But Evelyn Lewis didn’t have time to think about it, and quickly took out a letter and handed it over.

“Here’s a beauty for you,” the man unfolded the note and read softly, “Just out of school, inexperienced, job hunting everywhere, hitting walls everywhere, temporarily staying at your place. Salary must not be short, work must not be tiring, free to come and go—remember: keep your hands to yourself, no funny business.”

As he finished reading the note, Evelyn Lewis’s face flushed slightly. Fortunately, in the darkness, no one could see. She shrank back, hiding herself deeper in the shadows.