Chapter 21
Violet's POV
My head buzzed. Blood instantly rushed to the top of my head. My cheeks burned almost hot enough to catch fire.
"No! Mary, you've misunderstood!" I stood up frantically, explaining at a loss, not even daring to look at Julian's eyes. "He's not my boyfriend. He's... he's an elder who takes very good care of me, my benefactor! We're just here for a simple meal!"
I was about to lose my mind.
What was Julian's status? The Hall family's power holder.
Mary actually paired us together—for Julian, this was simply an affront.
"Oh... sorry, sorry. My mistake." Though Mary apologized, her eyes still carried a trace of ambiguous gossip. She handed us laminated menus. "What would you like? Tonight's special is cheese beef burger."
"Two signature burgers, two black coffees, thank you." Julian very naturally took over the conversation.
After Mary left with the menus, I still felt like sitting on pins and needles. I twisted my clothing hem desperately under the table, took a deep breath, and carefully looked up at the man across from me.
"Mr. Hall, I'm truly sorry." My face was full of embarrassment, voice small as a child who'd made a mistake. "Mary's just that kind of personality. She likes joking around. Please don't take her words to heart. I hope you can forgive her rashness."
Julian leaned back in the red leather chair, deep gray eyes quietly watching me.
Neon light from outside the corridor filtered through the glass window onto his profile, softening his cold, oppressive aura.
"Why would I mind?" He raised an eyebrow slightly, tone not only carrying no offended anger whatsoever, but revealing an extremely rare relaxation. "She was just complimenting how harmonious we look together. That's not a bad thing, Violet."
I froze, looking at his calm eyes. My tense nerves finally slowly relaxed.
Burgers and coffee were quickly brought over.
Julian picked up that cheap burger wrapped in greaseproof paper, without any disgusted expression, very naturally taking a bite.
Watching his composed appearance, the doubt in my heart finally couldn't be suppressed.
"Mr. Hall." I set down my coffee cup, looking at him seriously. "Why did you choose this place? I'd already prepared all my money, wanting to treat you to a more respectable restaurant."
Julian's chewing motion paused.
He set down the burger, picked up a napkin to elegantly wipe his mouth corner.
"I know you prepared all your money." His gaze fell on me through the rising coffee steam, eyes deep and perceptive. "The other night when I drove you back to your apartment, I saw you eating a discounted sandwich by this diner's window. Violet, I know your current economic situation. I also know that to scrape together that dinner money, you'd probably have to go hungry for the next month."
My breathing stopped slightly. My heart felt gently struck by something.
"You're treating me to dinner to express gratitude, not to add burden to yourself." His voice was low, steady, carrying an unquestionable thoughtfulness. "This place's burgers taste quite good. For me, that's enough. I don't need you to overdraw your life for so-called 'respectability.'"
Hearing his words, emotions in my chest churned like boiling water.
Gratitude, sourness, and a deep sense of helplessness intertwined, pressing until I couldn't breathe.
He was too good.
Good to meticulous detail. Good not only solving all my troubles but even carefully protecting my insignificant self-esteem.
Yet the more he was like this, the heavier that mountain in my heart became.
I lowered my eyes, looking at the cup of bitter-smelling black coffee before me.
I took a deep breath, forced myself to look up, meeting his eyes directly.
"Mr. Hall." My voice trembled slightly, carrying barely concealed vulnerability. "Your care for me—I'm truly grateful. But... for me, it's already become an unbearable burden."
Julian's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He watched me quietly without interrupting.
"I know you're doing all this to make up for Ethan's mistakes." I bit my lower lip hard, eyes gradually reddening. "You paid off my forty-five thousand dollar student loan, gave me an expensive phone, compensated me with a priceless top-quality violin, even broke orchestra rules for me, personally asking Mr. Owen..."
I paused, throat feeling stuffed with water-soaked cotton: "But, Mr. Hall, I'm just a poor student with nothing. What can I use to repay you? I can't possibly repay these things. Every time you help me, it reminds me how incompetent I am, how much I owe the Hall family."
Tears finally couldn't help sliding down from my eye corners, hitting the wooden tabletop.
I clenched my fists desperately, using an almost pleading tone: "So please, please don't be so good to me because of Ethan anymore. His mistakes shouldn't be paid for by you. And your kindness... I truly have no way to repay it."
The diner remained noisy, yet our small booth fell into deathly silence.
Julian sat quietly across from me. Those pale gray eyes churned with extremely complex emotions.
He looked at the tears in my eyes, looked at the spikes I'd raised all over my body from extreme self-respect. The dominance in his eyes finally slowly faded, transforming into an extremely light sigh.
"I'm sorry, Violet."
His low voice sounded in the air, carrying a trace of rare apology.
He leaned forward slightly, gaze focused on me: "I'm used to solving problems with a businessman's thinking, believing that filling losses with money and resources was the best form of compensation. I neglected your feelings, imposed my will on you."
I froze, even forgetting to wipe my tears.
The Hall family's mighty power holder was actually apologizing to me in a budget diner for the "favors" he'd bestowed on me.
Just as I stood at a loss, Julian took something from his suit's inner pocket.
It was a black bank card.
He placed the card on the table, long fingers pressing the card's edge, slowly pushing it before me.
The silver chip gleamed with cold, rational luster under the diner's dim yellow light.
I stared at that black card on the table symbolizing endless wealth, breathing stopping slightly.
The silver chip reflected an extremely rational and cold metallic gloss under "Mary's Diner's" dim, greasy yellow light.
I knew that if I accepted this card, all my difficulties—those bills suffocating me—would vanish instantly.
But I didn't reach out.