Chapter 14: I’m watching you

“I’m sorry, this is my first time at a bar. I don’t really know what I’m doing. Next time, I won’t be so clueless.”

“Jennifer, why don’t you like me? Just tell me what’s wrong with me and I’ll change, okay?”

She forced a smile.

“Forget it. You can’t change.”

Can you change your background?

Can you stop being the son of the doctor who took the oxygen tank away from my father?

You can’t.

Jennifer knew that James was the Novak family’s favorite child. The best way to get revenge on the Novaks was to make James fall in love with her.

But she also knew that James’ feelings for her were genuine, so she didn’t want to hurt him.

She added lightly, “I don’t like good boys like you. You shouldn’t waste your time on me anymore.”

“I thought you just didn’t like doctors.”

James saw this as an opportunity, however.

His eyes lit up, eager, almost boyish.

“Then what’s your type?”

“I like someone like your teacher, Michael.”

Hearing Michael’s name again made James’ heart race.

“Jennifer! Don’t be ridiculous!”

Out of respect for their parents’ friendship, Michael had occasionally tutored James.

James had feared Michael since childhood.

Jennifer said lazily, “I just like men like him.”

“But he owns many hospitals.”

A cold glint flashed in Jennifer’s eyes.

She quickly suppressed that emotion, though.

Suddenly, she spotted a familiar face at the far end of the crowd.

It was Michael.

He was here tonight, too.

Jennifer had gone to great lengths to find out that Michael occasionally visited this bar.

The minimum spend here was steep—without James, she wouldn’t have been able to afford it.

Fortunately, she had only come on a whim, never expecting to actually run into him.

Jennifer raised her glass and deliberately found his gaze across the room, tilting the rim against her lower lip as if she were stealing a sip from his mouth instead. She wiggled her fingers, letting the studded cuff on her wrist catch the light and sparkle like a collar chain.

James remained facing the bar, unaware of anyone approaching behind him. He heard the clink of ice in Jennifer’s glass as she whispered in his ear, “Your teacher, Michael, was hot.”

“What about you?”

With that, Jennifer turned to leave.

“Jennifer!”

“Don’t follow me. I’m going to the restroom.”

After saying this, she left James behind.

In the restroom, she recalled that split-second gaze. Michael must have seen the leather bracelet on her wrist.

She pulled out the new number she had prepared and continued texting him.

“Mr. Kowalski, you know what? Your name is inside my bracelet, too.”

“Your name is all over me, inside my underwear—everywhere. I belong to you.”

Michael had seen not only Jennifer, but also James.

At the bar, the boy and girl leaned intimately together.

The next second, however, he saw this message on his phone.

Michael’s expression darkened.

He had no desire to deal with the reckless Jennifer. He simply walked upstairs to a high-end private room with glass walls on all sides.

Inside were several friends he’d known since childhood.

They were all grown up now—some worked in venture capital, some in internet technology, and one was an expert in artificial intelligence.

After Michael sat down, the room grew quiet.

Then, someone gasped at the sudden appearance of a woman outside the glass.

“Wow, that girl looks so pure.”

The woman seemed to be watching them, too. She stood in the play of light and shadow cast by the stained glass, which was perfect for setting the mood and sparking the imagination.

As the others in the room caught sight of her, they also began to marvel.

“It’s been ages since I saw such a pure-looking beauty in City A. Those rich girls always copy that ‘hot chick’ style, but their skin looks like stone once they take off their makeup.”

Jennifer made no effort to hide her beauty.

She wore that same white dress again today.

With a hoodie over it, she was the artsy campus goddess. Without it, she was a pure yet dangerously alluring midnight flower. When she went upstairs to find Michael, she left the hoodie in the downstairs restroom.

In such a neon-lit, hedonistic place, wearing only this sheer yet opaque, simply designed long dress, the white silk gleamed with a clean, almost reflective quality, as if it might snip cleanly with the slightest crease.

Jennifer pressed herself against the glass partition of the private booth, her slender silhouette faintly visible, the curve of her waist and the line of her thighs suggested every time the fabric clung and then fell away again.

Suddenly, she splayed her fingers against the glass, and ten faint imprints slowly rose from the level of her chest, as if she were feeling for the warmth of the man behind it.

“Holy shit, she’s a pro!” a playboy beside Michael blurted out.

“Damn, this is pure sensuality at its finest. You guys didn’t bring her, did you?”

“I’d love to meet a beauty like that. But Michael, why do I feel like she’s looking at you?”

Michael had always kept a clean slate, and with his engagement approaching, no one suspected him of anything.

He hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, glancing at the girl outside the glass only when she was mentioned.

Through the haze of his cigarette smoke, her face remained somewhat blurred.

Still, he instantly recognized her.

At that moment, his phone buzzed on the side table by his knees.

Mr. Kowalski, I’m watching you.

You and Miss Rossi argued about me tonight, didn’t you?

Whether from the nicotine or the bar’s hormonal buzz, Michael recalled the white Persian cat he’d kept as a child.

That cat loved to cling to him like this, too. But his studies kept him busy—besides school, he often took lessons in equestrian sports, athletics, and the arts—leaving little time to stay home with the cat.

Later, the cat learned to deliberately distance itself from him. It would occasionally coax him into playing, but the moment he went to pet it, it would dart proudly under the sofa.

Not long after, the cat died.

The cause was unclear, but it seemed that someone had maliciously poisoned it. The cat lay in a pool of blood, its pure white fur stained with vomited blood.

He knelt in a corner of the garden, hidden from his parents, and buried the cat with his own hands.

Sometimes, Jennifer reminded him of that cat.

He replied to her text for the first time.

No.

Then he clamped a cigarette between his lips, and smoked without saying another word.

A few minutes later, when he looked up again, Jennifer was no longer visible through the glass.

He assumed she had left and that the people around him had stopped discussing her.

Michael drank another glass of wine. Then he left and headed for the parking lot.

Since it was a private outing, he hadn’t brought a driver tonight. He opened his phone to call a designated driver.

Just then, Jennifer—who had vanished earlier—appeared before him.

“Sir, are you waiting for a ride?”

Michael looked at Jennifer.

Without the glass barrier, her face was clear.

Her cheeks were faintly flushed from the bar’s warmth, eyes bright and liquid in the dim light, her lips glossed and parted like she’d just taken a slow sip of something stronger than wine.

Leaning against the car door, Michael took a drag on his cigarette and asked casually, “Can you drive?”

Jennifer replied, “I can. And I can make it more exciting than a ride-share.”

Michael frowned, about to decline.

Suddenly, the girl stepped closer, tears welling up as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice.

“Mr. Kowalski, I’m so sad tonight.”

For a moment, he actually believed she was sad.

The way she tugged at his sleeve, small fingers curling into the expensive fabric, truly resembled someone yearning to touch a soft heart.

Cigarette ash fell from the cigarette clamped between his fingers.

“Why?”

Because Maria had evaded punishment yet again, and she felt like she was fighting a battle she could never win.

Of course, she wouldn’t tell the truth.

In the blink of an eye, she wiped away her tears and abruptly brought up something seemingly unrelated.

“Mr. Kowalski, did you know?”

“It’s been four years since my father passed away. Today is his anniversary.”

“I miss him so much. Could you give me a hug for him?”

Michael saw through her lie.

Whenever she lied, the feigned vulnerability and calculated flattery in her eyes became obvious.

Jennifer was so proud, yet her movements were bold.

He felt her hands slip into his suit jacket pocket, then flatten against his chest for a heartbeat too long, fingers tracing the seams of his shirt as if memorising the shape of him through the cloth.

Michael’s patience seemed to reach its limit; his gaze turned utterly stern. He caught her wrist in a harsh grip, spun her around, and pinned her against the cool metal of the Bentley’s door, his body caging hers, his knee braced hard along her side so she could feel the solid strength of him through her dress.

“Like me that much?”

“Then I’ll give you a chance, huh?”