In the restroom, Elena stood before the mirror for nearly ten minutes, carefully dabbing ointment onto the swollen lump on her forehead. She cursed under her breath as she finished and walked out.
"That bastard Amanda... if you ever fall into my hands again, I won't let you go."
In her anger, she accidentally pressed too hard on the wound, causing her to wince in pain. Preoccupied with her forehead, Elena didn't notice the shadow lurking behind the corner.
She had only taken a few steps down the hallway when a hand suddenly clamped a cloth over her face. Panic surged through her, and she began to struggle violently.
"Let go! Help!" she muffled, but her strength was no match for the man's grip.
She was swiftly dragged toward a deserted wing of the building. Before she could process what was happening, she was shoved into a dark, cramped room. The door slammed shut, and the sound of a lock clicking echoed through the silence.
Elena scrambled to her feet and began pounding on the door. "Let me go! Who are you?!"
The cloth hadn't been laced with anesthetic, but she had been blinded from the start and had no idea who her kidnapper was. She looked around the pitch-black room in a panic. When she had left the dressing room, she'd only brought her ointment—not even her purse. She had no way to call for help.
Outside the door, Jasper stood with cold, indifferent eyes. He tightened the lock, tossed the key into a nearby trash can, and turned to leave.
The studio manager followed him, looking pale and nervous. "Did you really have to do that? What if something happens to her?" He was already beginning to regret agreeing to Jasper's "favor."
Jasper snorted, casting a contemptuous glance at the man. "Have someone open the door tomorrow morning. In the meantime, handle the security cameras."
Stopping Amanda from attacking Elena hadn't been about mercy; it had been about protecting Amanda's reputation. He hadn't forgotten the sight of that hair curler nearly burning her.
Leaving the trembling manager behind, Jasper headed toward the parking lot. As he approached, he saw the group laughing and talking. Amanda's bright, radiant smile immediately caught his eye. He lowered his gaze and tried to walk past them unnoticed.
Unfortunately, his car was parked right past where they were standing. As he drew near, Celia spotted him and waved. "Hey! Are you heading home? We're going to dinner—want to join us?"
Amanda, who had her back to him, turned around in surprise. She hadn't realized he was still around.
Jasper's gaze flickered to Amanda—or more specifically, to Quentin's hand resting possessively on her waist. He looked back at Celia. "I'm busy. I'll take a rain check."
Winter, standing awkwardly to the side, seized the opportunity to escape the group dynamic. "I should head back too, so I can't join either."
Amanda frowned. "You don't have a car. How will you get home? Come eat with us, and I'll drop you off after."
Winter waved her hands dismissively. "It's okay! I can just call a taxi." She didn't want to be the "fifth wheel" with Ms. Amanda, her husband, her brother, and Ms. Celia. It was too much.
"If it's alright with Winter, I can give her a ride," Jasper offered, stepping in to break the tension. After all, the girl had taken a burn for Amanda today; the least he could do was get her home safely.
Winter exhaled in relief. "Then I'll thank you in advance, Mr. Jasper." Even though she didn't know Jasper well, riding with him felt far less intimidating than a formal dinner with the Solis and Harris families.
Amanda realized she couldn't change Winter's mind. "Fine, go home and rest. Remember to keep that wound dry. I'll send someone over tomorrow with some scar-prevention medicine."
"Thank you, Ms. Amanda. I'll see you later."
Winter politely bid everyone farewell. Jasper gave a curt nod to Quentin and Diego—who had remained silently observant—and led Winter away.
Amanda watched Jasper's retreating back, whispering to herself, "Why does he always look like someone owes him money?"
Quentin, standing right beside her, patted her head gently. "Why are you paying so much attention to other men?"
Amanda pouted but didn't argue. The four of them piled into the car and headed toward their restaurant.
Winter followed Jasper to his car, intending to sit quietly in the back and stay out of the way. But when Jasper opened the door, her heart nearly stopped.
Sitting in the backseat was a man with a smile that looked like it belonged to a devil.
Winter froze, thinking she'd opened the wrong door, and turned to ask Jasper for help. But Jasper just nudged her forward. "Sit in the middle."
Bewildered and terrified, Winter was pushed into the car. Facing the amused, piercing eyes of Derrick Kent, she swallowed hard and ducked her head like an ostrich.
Jasper climbed in and slammed the door, glaring at the man next to Winter. "Why are you here? Do you have too much free time on your hands?"
Derrick tilted his head, looking past Winter to his younger brother. "I'm heading back tomorrow and I was free tonight, so I wanted to see you."
"Well, you've seen me. Now go home," Jasper snapped.
Derrick wasn't offended by his brother's lack of hospitality. He knew Jasper was still fuming about being forced to attend that party a few nights ago. He shifted his gaze to the trembling girl sitting between them, his smile widening.