Next day.
Durrell Landon woke up in bed, his eyes half-closed, with a clear look of fatigue on his face. His overall demeanor seemed a bit sullen as he casually leaned against the bed.
Quiana Sutton's presence was indeed quite strong. Even though he had deliberately chosen to ignore it, her steady and long breathing still echoed around him. With the slightest disturbance, he would wake up, and it was only near dawn that he felt slightly sleepy.
Having Quiana sleep on the sofa, he didn't know whether it was tormenting him or her.
At that moment, a nearly undetectable smell of smoke drifted from the balcony, causing him to wrinkle his forehead reflexively.
He didn't like the smell of smoke, and this dislike was rooted in a deep-seated resistance he couldn't quite explain.
He turned over and got out of bed, walked to Quiana's side, and with a tone that brooked no refusal, said, "From now on, you're not allowed to smoke in front of me."
Upon hearing this, Quiana couldn't help but chuckle softly.
This statement was identical to what he had said the first time she smoked in front of him, even his expression was the same upon closer inspection.
Actually, her craving for cigarettes wasn't that strong; she just wanted to smoke whenever she felt troubled.
Clearly, she wasn't in a good mood now. Holding a cigarette in her left hand, she deliberately blew a beautiful smoke ring towards Durrell's face, acting like she feared nothing:
"If you can't stand it, then sign the divorce papers, and I'll move out of Imperial View Manor immediately."
She used to think about indulging him, but now she didn't bother.
Durrell choked on the smoke, his previously gloomy face now seemed exceptionally cold, and he spoke in slow, measured words: "If you want me to sign the divorce papers, then you'd best not provoke me."
Quiana glanced at him sideways, unwilling to argue with him early in the morning. She extinguished the cigarette and casually tossed it into the trash can.
…
At breakfast, the butler keenly sensed that there was a peculiar atmosphere circulating between these two people.
Dark and sinister, making him very uncomfortable.
Considering that he still couldn't quite figure out the relationship between the young miss and the young master, he wisely chose not to speak.
Fortunately, when he was almost unable to tolerate it, Oliver Gale walked in.
Seeing Durrell Landon with dark circles under his eyes due to lack of sleep, Oliver Gale chuckled ambiguously, "Did you battle too late last night, resulting in insufficient sleep?"
Saying this, he regrettably added, "Too bad yesterday Miss Chloe Cloud was extremely concerned about you. Who knew you'd been comfortably snug in gentle surroundings?"
Each word from Oliver made Durrell furious; his already dark pupils turned even duller and ink-like: "Shut up."
Oliver sensed Durrell was genuinely angry and awkwardly chuckled, "I was only joking with you, don't be mad. Actually, yesterday, Miss Chloe Cloud really asked a lot about you; I almost couldn't bear it."
He was obsessed with medicine, preferred facing these cold machines, was not as eloquent as Charles Foote and Julian Haworth.
Unfortunately, both Charles and Julian were in extremely bad moods yesterday. Miss Chloe could easily see that, so she didn't bother them but came to chat with him instead, being alone.
Durrell rubbed the rim of the cup, his eyes dark and unfathomable.
"Next time Evelyn Windsor comes to ask you about me, just reject her directly."
His voice wasn't loud, could almost be considered low, but the excessive calmness rendered it incredibly resolute.
Even Oliver was taken aback.
Before Evelyn went abroad, it wasn't just others—he himself thought so—that in Durrell's heart, Evelyn was certainly special.
Although this young master never explicitly stated he liked Evelyn, the boundaries he gave her were incomparable to what other wealthy young ladies received, at least outside their few friends, she was the only female allowed within a meter of him.
Now it seemed he was set to decisively reject her?
He subconsciously glanced at Quiana quietly eating breakfast beside him, feeling that this shift concerning Durrell was related to this girl.
Quiana, while eating breakfast, suddenly felt a gaze fix on her, feeling somewhat speechless, wondering if she got caught in the crossfire just by sitting there.
No appetite to eat further, she swiftly drank a cup of milk and grabbed her clothes to leave.
Oliver Gale noticed her actions and called out, curiously asking, "Quiana, where are you headed?"
Quiana paused but didn't turn back, her tone somewhat indifferent: "Naturally to work, could it be that the great Mr. Landon would support me for a lifetime?"
Durrell pressed his lips without speaking.
He never casually made promises akin to commitments.
Oliver Gale felt the surrounding air suddenly chill; he also promptly shut his mouth.
"Durrell, I'll examine you later to see how your recovery is progressing."
Durrell softly acknowledged with an "Mm" but maintained a faintly cold expression.
Quiana had barely stepped out of Imperial View Manor's gate when she ran into Charles Foote and Julian Haworth.
Julian merely swept his gaze across her and quickly looked away, his eyes cold and disdainful, feeling she was akin to a nuisance.
Charles, on the other hand, offered her a gentle smile: "Heading out this early."
Charles was always gentle in his demeanor towards everyone, but she could tell no one could truly enter his heart, replying blandly: "Just wanted to get some fresh air."
"Where do you want to go—I'll give you a ride."
She declined.
"No need, I can take a taxi."
Charles chuckled lightly: "Forgot to tell you, there are no taxis around Imperial View Manor."
Quiana felt a bit embarrassed.
She was considering if she should buy a car.
In the end, she didn't refuse.
"Thank you."
Standing by, Julian Haworth listened to the exchange between them and displeasingly remarked:
"Charles, how does this woman deserve Mr. Foote's personal escort?"
Charles pulled Julian along with him.
"Let's go, anyway you don't have any pressing matters, why not just accompany me."
Julian waved his fist in the air, anyone saying he, Julian Haworth, was idle was wrong. He was a busy individual managing numerous matters.
In Charles Foote's eyes, Julian's struggles seemed like child's play; effortlessly he was tucked into the car.
Julian sat in the car, feeling somewhat embarrassed and turning away, feeling he lost face in front of Quiana.
Quiana, from the moment she got in, supported her chin with her right hand, remaining motionless, letting the scenery outside the window pass by.
Charles glanced at the rearview mirror, having to admit, without pretense, Quiana had a beauty that was almost alluring, but inexplicably made him feel a trace of heartache.
"You haven't mentioned where you want to go yet?"
"North Star."
Julian Haworth sneered upon hearing, "Heading to a bar during the day; you surely have aspirations, no wonder you cannot surpass Evelyn Windsor."