Summer Thorne was in a bit of a daze as she walked out of Silas Dunn's private room.
'It was just lighting a cigarette for a strange man...'
'Really, all I did was light his cigarette.'
Afterward, she had said four words to Silas Dunn—
"Know when to stop."
Silas Dunn had laughed like a madman, but he really did know when to stop.
So much so that Summer Thorne still hadn't quite recovered.
'It feels like I've done something wrong.'
'Then again, as a married woman, there are some things I probably shouldn't be doing.'
But...
'What's so wrong with it?'
Summer Thorne went downstairs and walked all the way to the lobby entrance. It was only when the cold wind from outside hit her that she remembered she had forgotten to grab her coat.
A black car was parked outside, looking vaguely familiar. A very young, pretty girl sat in the back seat, sizing Summer Thorne up through the window.
Dressed the way she was on a cold midwinter night, she certainly stood out.
Soon, however, the girl's attention was diverted.
With a DING from the elevator behind them, the girl's eyes instantly lit up. She pushed the car door open and got out, pouncing like an adorable little bunny toward the person behind Summer Thorne, skipping and running as she called out sweetly, "Honey—"
It was an interesting scene, and Summer Thorne couldn't help but follow it with her eyes.
But when her gaze fell on the "little bunny's" honey, she couldn't help but freeze.
The man who had just stepped out of the elevator was tall with long legs, dressed in a black suit, and so handsome it was startling.
As the little bunny hugged him, he lifted his eyes to look ahead, his gaze meeting Summer Thorne's.
The moment their eyes met, Summer Thorne felt an urge to laugh.
After all this time, she was finally seeing her husband, Mason Crawford, once again.
That's right. The little bunny's honey was also her husband.
The legally certified kind, at that.
The little bunny was hugging Mason Crawford's waist, looking up to offer him a sweet kiss. "I missed you so much..."
Mason Crawford remained as cold and distant as ever. His gaze fell upon Summer Thorne, and the indifference in his eyes clearly shifted to disgust.
Summer Thorne saw it plainly, but since they had already run into each other, she raised a hand and greeted him, "Hi, long time no see."
The girl in Mason Crawford's arms instantly turned to look, then glanced nervously at Mason. "Honey, you know her?"
Summer Thorne and Mason Crawford's marriage wasn't a secret.
It was just that she had lived a secluded life for the two years since their wedding, never showing her face in public. And even though Mason Crawford's romantic scandals were everywhere, she had never once made a public statement.
As a result, even though everyone knew Mason Crawford was married, hardly anyone knew who she was. Even the few who did would just treat her, Mrs. Crawford, as if she were invisible.
After all, Mason Crawford's attitude decided everything.
Just like right now.
Summer Thorne figured the little bunny might not get an answer from Mason, so she spoke up herself. "Could I have a few minutes of your time? To talk?"
The little bunny was instantly on guard, hugging Mason Crawford even tighter.
"With you? What's there to talk about?" Mason Crawford finally spoke, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion.
Summer Thorne had originally wanted the little bunny to step aside to avoid hurting her feelings, but seeing Mason's attitude, she could only say it directly. "You received the divorce papers, didn't you? If you don't have time, you can have your lawyer talk to me. I'm available anytime."
The little bunny's eyes widened in disbelief, and she subconsciously let go of Mason Crawford's waist.
"Aren't you enjoying your position as Mrs. Crawford?" Mason Crawford looked at her coldly. "What's this new angle with a divorce?"
"With my family's current situation, I don't want to drag down the Carrington Family any further."
Her family had recently run into some trouble. The company was facing crises both internally and externally, and they were seeking help from all sides.
"I think you have other plans. What, are you planning to divorce me, repackage yourself, and sell yourself off again?"
Mason Crawford's gaze lingered on Summer Thorne's face, his eyes chilling.
Summer Thorne was born with a vibrant face—starlit eyes, pearly teeth, and a captivating gaze.
It was a brilliance that even her spiky, short hair back then couldn't hide, attracting men like moths to a flame, one after another.
Mason Crawford had had the fortune of witnessing such a spectacle.
After their marriage, she had deliberately put on the act of a perfect, home-loving wife. She stopped wearing heavy makeup and adopted a gentle, virtuous demeanor, fooling almost everyone.
Fortunately, he had never forgotten her true face.
And now, with her long, flowing hair, seductive red lips, and appearance as brilliant as a rose, she reminded Mason Crawford even more of the past.
He suddenly reached out, grabbed her by the chin, and lifted her face to study it closely.
"You can't even be bothered to pretend anymore, can you?"
With her face in his palm, her eyes, which had been dim for two years, suddenly regained their lively spark in the blink of an eye.
"That's right," she said with a smile. "I've been pretending for two years. Anyone would be tired by now."
Summer Thorne had never been stingy with her smiles. After all, her persona was that of a gentle and virtuous wife, and smiling was her default state.
But this smile was different.
It seemed she truly couldn't keep up the act any longer, that she finally felt a sense of release, which was why her smile was so genuine, so radiant, so dazzling.
But a nameless fire seemed to ignite in Mason Crawford's heart, growing stronger and hotter.
He squeezed her face harder. "So impatient. Have you already found a new backer?"
Summer Thorne winced in pain but still met his gaze. "No. I have a rather strong moral compass. In common terms, it's called having self-respect."
Mason Crawford looked as if he had heard a joke. "You have self-respect? Or is it that no one else will take you? Do you really think anyone in Valois would dare to take what the Carrington Family has cast aside?"
Of course, Summer Thorne knew.
Mason Crawford wasn't just talking about women.
Faced with the immense power of the Carrington Family, how many in Valois wouldn't bow their heads?
Just like now, with her family facing a financial crisis, everyone was waiting to see the Carrington Family's stance.
Everyone knew the two families were connected by marriage. If even the Carringtons wouldn't step in, why would anyone else bother to help?
And Mason Crawford, as their son-in-law in name, had already made his attitude clear.
He was going to watch them fall without lifting a finger.
Summer Thorne had long since accepted this fact.
"After the divorce, I'll no longer be Mrs. Crawford. My shame won't be the Carrington Family's shame, and any suffering I endure will be my own. And you—" Summer Thorne glanced at the little bunny beside him, "—you'll be free to have whatever you want. Isn't that better for everyone?"
"Better for everyone?" Mason Crawford repeated her words in a low voice. "But Summer Thorne, what if I just can't stand to see you happy? What then?"
Summer Thorne stared at him, her eyes fixed.
"Since you walked through the Carrington Family's door, you'd better be prepared to stay trapped in your position as Mrs. Crawford for the rest of your life." Mason Crawford released her face. "You can't save your family, and no one else can save them either. Just open your eyes wide and wait to see how your family dies—"
After throwing those words at her, Mason Crawford strode directly out the main entrance.
The little bunny, still in a daze, stumbled after him, got into the car, and left.
Summer Thorne quietly watched the car drive away. She stood under the eaves for a long time before realizing that, at some point, it had started to snow.
This was Valois's first snow of the winter, and it was threatening to come down heavily.
Summer Thorne watched, mesmerized, and couldn't help but extend her hand.
The moment a snowflake drifted into her palm, she suddenly smelled the scent of cedar again.
'I must be imagining things,' she thought, gathering her dress and stepping into the swirling snow.
Suddenly, the falling snowflakes above her head were blocked.
Summer Thorne looked up and saw a black umbrella.
Behind her stood a man who looked like a chauffeur, holding her coat in one hand and the umbrella for her with the other. "Miss Thorne, it's snowing. Do you need me to escort you to your car?"
"No, thank you." Summer Thorne took her coat and wrapped it around herself, but she couldn't feel any warmth.
"Then please take this umbrella. The snow is getting heavier."
Her car couldn't enter the driveway, and the private road outside was quite long. It was indeed a considerable walk.
Summer Thorne took the umbrella from his hand. "Thank you."
The wooden handle of the umbrella was exquisitely polished, its surface as smooth as silk. It felt warm to the touch and gave off a faint, cool, woody scent.
Summer Thorne couldn't help but turn and look toward the windows at the end of the building's third floor.
It was still an interplay of light and shadow. She wondered if, at this very moment, that mysterious man was still behind that darkened window.