As soon as he spoke, Julian Haworth felt a wave of pain from his foot, struggling to escape from Quiana Sutton's clutches in this cramped space.
He was furious: "You little brat, do you believe I'll kill you?"
Quiana Sutton paid no mind to Julian Haworth's anger, casually flicking her hair as she looked at him indifferently: "There are many people who want to kill me, you don't even rank."
Her gaze was cool, and her expression, half-mocking yet dismissive, made him extremely irritable. "You little brat..."
Before he finished, a sharp voice echoed within the car:
"Julian, if you keep nagging, I'll throw you out of the car."
Charles Foote was not one to get angry easily, but if he did, the person being reprimanded would be in serious trouble.
Julian Haworth dared not truly anger Charles Foote, so he reluctantly closed his mouth, turning his head away, no longer looking at Quiana Sutton.
Faced with Julian Haworth's almost childish behavior, Quiana Sutton lightly shook her head. As she looked up, she saw Charles Foote watching her through the rearview mirror. Her lips curved into a smile, seemingly amused.
Charles Foote quickly looked away. He could see that beneath her gentle smile, her dark pupils were like the deepest whirlpools, seemingly capable of swallowing all secrets of the world.
He recalled Quiana Sutton's earlier dismissive remark—
There are many people who want to kill me, you don't even rank.
He helped Quiana because he could tell she was different to Durrell, but if she endangered Durrell again, he would have no choice but to eliminate the troublesome source first.
North Star.
When Quiana Sutton arrived, North Star had just opened recently, and aside from them few, there were hardly any other guests.
Julian Haworth boldly took the best spot in the room.
Quiana Sutton, indifferent, didn't pay him any attention, simply taking a seat at the bar, ordering a glass of red wine. She had just taken a sip when Charles Foote remarked: "Échezeaux wine, the king of wines from Saint-Émilion, from 1996, I'll have a glass too."
Sensing the origin and year of wine from a sniff was effortless for Charles Foote, something she wasn't particularly surprised by.
Quiana Sutton swirled her glass, the red liquid spinning inside the glass.
"What do you want to say to me?"
Charles Foote was impressed by her sharpness, yet it felt right. He glanced at Quiana Sutton, flushed slightly by the wine, and slowly spoke: "To me, Durrell is very important. If he's harmed because of you, I'll have to do something I'd rather not."
The rich aroma of the wine overwhelmed her senses for a moment, making her feel a bit complicated, but she quickly regained her composure.
"Since you're afraid I'll hurt him, you should advise him to divorce me soon."
Sitting at a distant booth, Julian Haworth couldn't hear what the two were saying, only watching their actions. It gave him an uncanny feeling of mutual understanding between them, making him feel excluded.
He hated this feeling.
He walked over to sit on Quiana Sutton's right side, telling the bartender: "Give me the same as them." Then he pointed at Quiana Sutton and added, "Put it on her tab."
The bartender instinctively glanced at Quiana Sutton. She nodded to indicate it was okay, so the bartender handed the glass to Julian Haworth.
Julian Haworth took a sip and, with the same bad attitude, said: "Don't think just because you treat me to a drink, I'll think any better of you."
Quiana Sutton lifted her eyelids, her grip on the glass tightening slightly. She squinted, a cold aura surrounding her.
"If the drink can't shut you up, how about some crane's beak red?"
Julian Haworth looked at her like she truly had bad intentions, making Charles Foote slightly exasperated. These two were like oil and water, and within five minutes of sitting together, they were at it again.
He glanced at Quiana Sutton and said at the right moment: "You didn't really come to North Star to drink, did you?"
She glanced sidelong at Charles Foote: "Of course not, I'm here for work."
Julian Haworth chimed in with a cool tone: "So, you couldn't make it in the film industry and had to come work at North Star?"
"Bang—"
No one expected Quiana Sutton's glass to shatter just like that.
She spoke unemotionally: "Sorry, slipped hand."
Julian Haworth couldn't resist another taunt: "You're that useless, can't even hold onto a glass."
Seeing the situation, Charles Foote quickly nudged Julian Haworth with his foot: "Shut the heck up."
He could clearly see that beneath her calm eyes, a turbulent anger was boiling. He even had the illusion that if Julian Haworth said a few more words, someone might bleed in this bar today.
Julian Haworth wasn't dumb either. A moment ago, Quiana Sutton's eyes felt like they could pierce his heart with thousands of arrows.
He only felt a cold sweat break out on his back.
Quiana Sutton ignored Julian Haworth's reaction, calmly cleaning up the glass shards at her own pace.
Once finished, she glanced at the still shaken bartender: "Got a smoke?"
Startled by her sudden question, the bartender quickly replied: "Yes, yes, yes."
After taking a few puffs, Quiana Sutton calmed herself.
Just then, Axius Somerville arrived. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he felt the atmosphere in the place was like dry tinder, threatening to ignite at any careless moment.
Moreover, who were the men sitting on either side of Quiana Sutton?
Puzzled, he slowly walked over to Quiana Sutton, "Sorry I'm late, you didn't wait long, did you?"
She responded lightly: "No." Then tossed him a USB drive, "What you wanted."
Axius Somerville carefully caught it, his gaze shifting between Julian Haworth and Charles Foote. He knew he shouldn't ask, but these two looked quite extraordinary, like heirs from prominent families. He was worried Quiana Sutton might be deceived.
After all, these heirs were notorious for playing around with actresses.
"Cece, who are these two?"
Quiana Sutton casually replied: "Bodyguards."
Axius Somerville: "???"
He muttered quietly: "Since when are bodyguards better looking than artists?"
Julian Haworth was initially annoyed by the word "bodyguards", but with Axius's muttering, he felt thrilled and temporarily accepted the role of a bodyguard.
Pulling Axius Somerville over, he hooked his right arm around his shoulder, looking all buddy-buddy.
"Have a drink?"
Axius Somerville repeatedly refused: "No, no, no, I have to go to the recording studio later. If I'm drunk, I can't work."
Julian Haworth pretended not to hear, insistently pulling him to sit on his right side, "No alcohol? Then have some juice."
Axius Somerville shot a pleading look at Quiana Sutton, hoping she could rescue him from the clutches.
Quiana Sutton turned away as if she hadn't seen it, fearing that if she spoke to Julian Haworth again, she might really press his head onto the bar.