Like that woman her father kept on the side. She'd been a minor celebrity who used her pregnancy to claw her way up, making even family dinners unbearable.
But just as the words left her mouth, the very person she'd been talking about—the one she thought was unassuming—suddenly appeared before her, a smile playing on her lips.
Evelyn Grant tilted her head, her red lips parting slightly. "Miss Ford."
The moment she spoke, Stella Ford's pupils contracted in shock.
She gasped, "You can speak Cantonese!"
"A little," Evelyn Grant said, raising an eyebrow nonchalantly. "I heard Miss Ford say my skills were quite good."
She lifted her gaze slightly, her eyes lingering on Stella Ford's stunned face as she spoke slowly. "Thank you for the praise, Miss Ford. If you get the chance, feel free to hire me."
"..." Stella Ford's expression turned ugly.
'So Evelyn Grant understood everything! She was pretending not to understand just to make a fool out of me!'
Her innate sense of superiority, combined with the shame of knowing every word she'd said had been overheard, made Stella Ford's head grow hot. The sarcasm in her voice was blatant. "Who the hell do you think you are? A second-rate makeup artist like you thinks you're worthy of being hired by me? People have their place in this world. Don't get ahead of yourself. I was already being generous by even speaking to you."
"Oh." Evelyn Grant's expression was languid. "So, what you're saying, Miss Ford, is that Miss Keaton hired a 'second-rate makeup artist' you look down on. Are you, by any chance, mocking Miss Keaton?"
Her eyelids lowered as she let out a theatrical sigh. "I'll be sure to pass on your words. It's a good thing I have a recording. Perhaps Miss Keaton should find a more 'excellent' makeup artist for the second session."
Stella Ford's expression changed in an instant. A cold sweat broke out on her palms as she barked, "Stop!"
'Sophie Keaton spends most of the year abroad; they barely see each other more than a few times a year. Socialites have their own circles, and Sophie's was the one everyone dreamed of entering. She had fought tooth and nail to get in, and she couldn't let some makeup artist destroy it all with a few malicious words and drive a wedge between her and Sophie.'
Stella Ford gritted her teeth and lowered her voice. "Here's one hundred thousand Veridia Dollars. Now shut your mouth."
"One hundred thousand Veridia Dollars," Evelyn Grant's lips twitched into a small smirk. "That wouldn't even cover Miss Ford's earrings."
"How about you hear my terms?"
Evelyn Grant lifted her chin slightly, her eyes turning cold. "Either give me a hundred million in hush money, or bow your head and give me a respectful apology."
She smiled. "The choice is yours, Miss Ford."
Stella Ford's eyes grew red. For the first time in her twenty years, she was so angry she was trembling all over.
Her fingers tightened uncontrollably, her nails digging so hard into her palms that they stung with pain.
'A hundred million. No matter how wealthy her family was, that wasn't an amount she could just hand over.'
'She knew Evelyn Grant didn't actually want hush money. She was forcing her to apologize.'
"My patience is limited, Miss Ford. You wouldn't want me to play this recording for Miss Keaton, would you?"
The light, airy voice felt like a mountain pressing down on Stella Ford's chest, making it hard to breathe. After a long moment, she forced two words through gritted teeth.
"I'm sorry."
The corner of Evelyn Grant's mouth curved up. "Does Miss Ford not understand the meaning of 'respectfully'?"
Stella Ford's chest heaved. She clenched her jaw in resentment, her cheeks burning with humiliation. Swallowing her pride, she bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Miss Grant. I hope you can forgive me."
She heard nothing from Evelyn Grant.
But she could feel that casual gaze on her, and it carried an inexplicable pressure.
"I thought someone from a family as prominent as Miss Ford's wouldn't hesitate to pay the hush money. Turns out, you're not all that impressive after all." She turned away with a sarcastic smile, tossing a final comment over her shoulder. "I'll delete the recording."
Evelyn Grant strolled unhurriedly through the garden and scoffed.
She didn't know that from deep within the greenery, a pair of dark eyes was watching her coolly.
"An unfamiliar face," Wyatt Walsh said in a low voice. "Sir, should I look into her?"
An indifferent voice responded. Preston Keaton parted his thin lips, his ink-black eyes narrowing slightly. Reserved and aloof, he said, "No need."
"The youngest daughter of the Solara Grants."
"I've seen her before."
---
The villa was like a maze. Evelyn Grant had to ask a servant for help to find her way back to her room.
June Jacobs was lounging comfortably on the sofa. Seeing Evelyn return, she shot up excitedly. "I can't believe I'm actually staying in Clearwater Bay in my lifetime!"
It was a famous residential area for the wealthy. Rumor had it that to buy a house here, one needed unanimous approval from all the other homeowners.
This particular villa was at the highest point, boasting the best scenery and environment.
The rooms Sophie Keaton had arranged for them were in a prime location. It was a suite with two bedrooms, a large living room in the middle, and a spacious terrace outside, from which they could see numerous yachts already waiting at the dock.
Her phone had been ringing nonstop. Evelyn Grant finally sat down on a chair on the terrace and answered it, her eyes lowered languidly.
"If I don't answer, you're just going to keep calling until I do, aren't you?"
A low chuckle came from the other end. Leo Lawrence was probably on set, as it sounded a bit noisy in the background. "So why weren't you answering my calls?"
June Jacobs poured her a glass of water. Evelyn Grant thanked her before replying to the call, "It's not like you answer every time I call you, either."
"Oh." Leo Lawrence's tone was light and teasing. "So you're getting revenge on me."
"I wouldn't call it revenge." The two went back and forth, and a smile touched Evelyn Grant's lips. "I'm asking you why you didn't answer when I called this afternoon."
The noise on the other end gradually subsided, and his magnetic voice came through the receiver clearly. "It wasn't on purpose. I just got off work."
Evelyn Grant twirled a strand of her hair. "It wasn't on purpose for me, either. I just got off work."
A sea breeze swept by, and the leaves rustled.
Leo Lawrence chuckled. "You really don't let anyone get one over on you, do you?"
His voice softened, becoming as gentle and pleasant as a babbling brook. "When are you coming back? I'll treat you to dinner, Mr. Grant."
The call didn't last long. Leo Lawrence was called away by a staff member. When Evelyn Grant turned around, she was met by June Jacobs's sparkling, gossipy gaze.
"..."
She calmly finished the water in her glass, stood up, and walked into the room. Before June could even ask, she said calmly, "We're not together."
"But you will be soon, right?" June Jacobs giggled. "Mr. Lawrence must be over the moon."
Evelyn Grant lowered her eyes and said nothing.
'She had her own reservations.'
Half an hour later, a servant came to inform them that the yacht party was about to begin.
Evelyn Grant lagged behind, taking care of a few things.
After this, she had a solid week of makeup jobs, plus the makeup tutorial she'd promised her fans. The Mid-Autumn Festival was at the end of the month, which meant all the major TV stations would be starting their galas, and countless people were trying to book her...
'She hadn't had a day off in two months. It looked like she'd have to schedule her vacation for October.'
Still planning in her head, she put her phone away. It was only when she entered Sophie Keaton's dressing room that she realized someone was there.
He was dressed in an exquisitely tailored black suit that highlighted his broad shoulders and narrow waist—an exceptional figure. Hearing her enter, the man glanced over. His ink-black eyes locked onto her coolly. With his well-defined features and reserved, steady demeanor, he looked utterly unapproachable.