Durrell Landon was in a bit of a bad mood, he'd been spacing out the whole time, and only when Oliver Gale spoke did he slowly gather himself and replied lazily:
"That's nothing strange."
Oliver got interested: "Durrell, what do you think Alexander Skylane is doing in the country?"
Durrell's tone didn't change: "I heard from my brother that Winston's parent company, the Aisha Group, is coming to set up a branch here. Since Alexander Skylane is Winston's chief designer, it's only natural he needs to handle some things himself."
Oliver nodded, still studying that photo of Alexander Skylane's legendary moment.
The photo showed a woman by the seaside, her face obscured, but you could see the ring on her hand—it had a letter S engraved on it.
Before he met Quiana Sutton, that photo hadn't meant much, but now, after seeing her, Oliver couldn't shake the feeling that the woman in that picture was actually Quiana.
Quiana's name starts with an S, and Alexander Skylane's name starts with S too.
Just considering the possibility made him suddenly a little uneasy.
He and Alexander Skylane were technically schoolmates; back then, Alexander was a campus legend, with enough girls chasing him to lap the field three times—yet he passed through the crowd untouched, always spotless and above it all.
Everyone even suspected at one point that Alexander Skylane liked men.
Now it seemed things might not be so simple after all.
He coughed lightly, covering that odd feeling, then said, "Durrell, I heard Charles Foote say that Judd Auction House has a batch of new items up today. Want to go check it out?"
"Let's go."
Oliver: "..."
He was actually just throwing it out there.
*
Judd Auction House belonged to the Foote Estate, and Charles Foote had reserved the best spot for Durrell Landon.
He looked at Durrell with some surprise: "I thought you'd have no interest in these events."
Durrell felt a sort of agitated frustration he couldn't even explain himself: "Just needed to clear my head."
Julian Haworth looked at Durrell, puzzled: "Durrell, who could possibly get you so worked up..."
Oliver Gale said in a drawn-out voice:
"Julian, aside from me, who else lives in Imperial View Manor?"
Julian got the innuendo but felt a bit annoyed; he'd already been schooled by Charles Foote—any matter related to Quiana Sutton, he was to keep his mouth shut from now on.
Durrell gave Oliver a faint glance, his tone cool as he replied lightly, "Oliver, Old Windsor came by yesterday asking when I'd finally let you get back to work for the Windsor Family."
Oliver instantly begged for mercy.
"Durrell, I'll keep quiet, just please don't let the old man drag me back."
The Windsor Family had some ties to the borderlands; Oliver hadn't liked it much since he was a kid, basically half estranged from his own family. Living in Imperial View Manor was just fine for him—at least the old man wouldn't nag him to return.
At that moment, his eyes caught sight of two people nearby, and his lips twitched involuntarily.
"Durrell, are those two—Quiana Sutton and Alexander Skylane?"
The others followed Oliver's line of sight, each with their own expression.
Alexander Skylane wasn't just Winston's chief designer, he was also the eldest son of Skylane Estate.
Skylane Estate practically dominated the global jade and jewelry market—with wealth enough to buy a small country.
It was said that some women had tried to sneak into Alexander Skylane's bed, only to be thrown out without mercy.
Such a proud, arrogant man was now trailing after Quiana Sutton, seemingly trying to curry favor.
They suspected they might be losing their minds.
Alexander Skylane kept following Quiana, smiling apologetically:
"Cece, I heard there's a gem here at the auction called Star of Mihai—I broke your jade, so I have to repay you with the most unique gem in the world."
Alexander's endless chatter was starting to grate on Quiana. She suddenly became aware of several intense gazes directed at her and jerked her head up.
She could only see hazy silhouettes behind the strings of pearl curtains in the top-floor room, but one look was enough to know who was sitting at the head—Durrell Landon.
She just wanted to curse—seriously, what the fuck, how did she never realize she and Durrell Landon were so destined, running into him everywhere she went.
Alexander followed her gaze but didn't see anything. He asked curiously:
"Cece, what are you looking at?"
She drew her gaze back and replied blandly:
"Nothing. Let's grab a private room and sit down."
Once the pair disappeared from view, Julian Haworth spoke up first: "Durrell, I wasn't seeing things just now, was I?"
Durrell's face was now so cold it seemed almost frightening: "You saw right. Those two are Quiana Sutton and Alexander Skylane."
Pressed lips, tensed muscles, a cutting gaze—all signs that Durrell Landon was on the verge of rage.
In the originally stifling private room, the temperature seemed to drop suddenly.
At that moment, even Julian didn't dare say a word.
Your own wife goes off to a private room with another man right in front of you, practically putting a green hat on your head—anyone would be pissed.
Durrell's clean, long, and finely-boned fingers tapped the table a few times. He hid all the dark emotion in his eyes, then suddenly spoke coldly: "Every private room in the auction house is monitored, right?"
Charles Foote let out an "ah," as if he hadn't processed it all at first, then hurried over to grab the computer when he realized what Durrell meant.
As soon as he pulled up the feed for Quiana's private room, they saw Alexander Skylane cutting fruit for Quiana. Oliver Gale couldn't hold it in and clicked his tongue:
"If Alexander Skylane's fans saw those exquisite hands—hands meant for painting—cutting fruit for Quiana, do you think Cece's going to get crucified online?"
Charles Foote watched the monitor: "I'm more surprised that Quiana even knows Alexander Skylane."
Oliver Gale idly pinched his finger, as if waiting for the drama: "You guys never looked into Quiana Sutton's background?"
Charles Foote was silent a moment before answering: "No."
Back then, Durrell and Quiana were just in a hidden marriage; they figured it was just for fun and hadn't bothered with a background check.
Their views had clearly changed since.
All this time, Durrell Landon hadn't said a word, just stared intensely at the monitor.
Julian, sitting closest to him, suddenly shivered—seriously considering if he should bump up the air conditioning.
On the other side.
Alexander Skylane finished slicing the fruit and set it in front of Quiana. She didn't stand on ceremony, ate a few pieces, and finally spoke up:
"How long are you staying in the country this time?"
Alexander glanced at her: "Not leaving anytime soon."
Quiana: "Why?"
Alexander: "Aisha Group is opening a branch here, and I volunteered to run it."
Quiana frowned slightly, clearly puzzled as she looked at him: "I thought you only liked designing jewelry, not handling the company side of things. What's with the sudden switch?"
Alexander heard this and turned to look at her.
She was still nonchalant as ever, with a chill in her eyes; he knew he would never get truly close, but even if it was chasing a hopeless cause, he still wanted to try.
He said, "Everything in the Skylane Estate will be mine to take over eventually—running the local branch is just training ahead of time."
She raised an eyebrow lightly, but didn't say anything more.