This time, he wasn’t quite the gentleman. Vincent grabbed Emily's hand, guiding her through the crowded elevator, across the bustling company lobby, without caring who saw them. He then pushed her into the front passenger seat of his car, ignoring the stares of onlookers. As the car started, Emily could still see through the window a bunch of curious colleagues gossiping about what just happened. “Do you think this is appropriate?” Emily asked, turning her head to look at the line of trees speeding by outside. Vincent replied, “You keep avoiding me. I had no choice.” “But you know how people in the company will talk about me after this, right?” “What will they say?” “They'll say everything I've accomplished, my skills, everything about me—was all because of you. They'll probably even say the award I won was thanks to your influence.” Vincent's voice was calm. “You can’t stop people from talking, Emily. I taught you this lesson three years ago.” Emily felt deflated, brushing her wind-tangled hair back behind her ears. Her voice was soft, almost fragile, “Three years of hard work to get where I am now, and in just a few minutes, you could destroy all of it. You might not understand how harsh this world can be for a woman. The moment we achieve anything, people are quick to doubt it, always assuming there’s a powerful man behind us.” “I saw it.” “What did you see?” “The award ceremony,” he said. “You shut them all up.” Emily gave a hollow laugh. “Well, now you've given them more ammunition to attack me.” “Emily,” Vincent said quietly, “I will give you what you want.” “Do you even know what I want?” “Recognition, success, fame.” “No,” she shook her head. “I want freedom. I want to live my life the way I want.”He paused before responding. “Stay by my side, and I will give you freedom.” “But the freedom I want is to stay far away from you,” Emily said bitterly. “Every time I see your face, hear your voice, I remember the pain of my baby being taken piece by piece from my womb.” “Baby…” Vincent’s voice trembled, his lips pressing tightly together, tears glistening in his eyes. There was an odd sense of satisfaction for Emily in that moment. That was his child too—half of its blood came from him. If he still had any conscience left, then the memory of that child would be a wound that never healed. See? She knew him so well. Vincent was never a heartless villain. He simply acted as if he didn’t need her anymore. The car stopped outside the concert venue. It seemed like the concert had already started; music could be heard echoing from inside while fans gathered outside, lamenting their failure to get tickets and their missed chance to see their idol in person. Vincent held her hand tightly, almost to the point of pain, but showed no sign of loosening his grip. “Lucas's career is doing great,” Vincent remarked. “Amanda had a baby last year—a son.” Amanda was nearly forty, making her a high-risk pregnancy. Emily felt a pang in her heart. “Are they both okay?” “They’re doing well,” Vincent said. “She had the baby through artificial insemination. The child is healthy and adorable.” “...That's good.” “Would you like to go backstage and see the baby?” Emily shook her head instinctively. “No, I’m just glad they’re well.” “Let’s go,” Vincent said, gently pulling her towards the backstage area. “Amanda has missed you these past few years.” The backstage area was bustling. Lights, stage effects, makeup, costumes, assistants—everyone was focused on their tasks. It was just as chaotic and lively as it had been three years ago. Most of the people there were strangers now—new staff that must have joined after she left.Emily's gaze wandered over to the makeup area, where a young woman stood. She was slender, with a gentle demeanor, holding a makeup kit at the ready for touch-ups on Lucas. “She reminds me of you,” Vincent's raspy voice whispered beside her ear. It was true. Not in appearance, but in aura. The new makeup artist was quiet, polite, and focused. “She was hired by Amanda. She’s a complete newcomer with no prior experience, but after training for a while, she was directly assigned to Lucas’s team. She’s responsible for his looks.” Emily couldn’t help but remark, “I didn’t expect you to be so invested in Lucas.” Vincent’s gaze softened, his voice lowered. “Every place you’ve been, every person you’ve met, I want to revisit them all—only then do I feel like you were truly part of my life.” Emily arched an eyebrow. “Why pretend to be sentimental?” Vincent frowned slightly, looking wounded. “Do you think I’m pretending?” “Aren’t you?” “No.” Emily looked down, her gaze settling on the tips of her shoes. “Does it matter? I don’t care anymore.” Just then, there was a sudden commotion outside. “Lucas is here! Makeup artist! Costume designer! Hurry up, you’ve got two minutes!” Lucas was ushered backstage by several assistants. He had just come off stage after performing a rock song, sweat glistening on his forehead, his makeup mostly worn off. The costume designer swiftly began changing his outfit while the makeup artist scrambled to prepare for a touch-up. However, the new makeup artist was clearly inexperienced, her pace unable to keep up with the urgency. The assistant grew anxious. “We’re running out of time! Can you go faster?” The girl, too scared to speak, worked in silence, rushing only to make more mistakes. Her hand slipped, leaving a long black streak across Lucas’s forehead with the eyeliner.This was a disaster—removing the mark would mean redoing his entire base makeup. The girl was on the verge of tears. “What do I do now...?” “I’ll do it,” Emily said, stepping forward and taking the brush and powder from the girl’s hands. Both the girl and Lucas were taken aback. “Who are you? Can you even do this?” Lucas demanded. Vincent interjected, “She’s a friend of mine. She’s also a makeup artist.” Lucas seemed pleasantly surprised. “Vincent? You’re here personally?” Vincent smiled slightly. “Time is tight—once the concert is over, I’ll take you out to celebrate.” Everyone around Lucas recognized Vincent. Seeing that Emily was with him, they didn’t stop her. Lucas closed his eyes obediently, letting Emily work on him. It had been three years, and her skills were a bit rusty, but Emily was still competent. She quickly evened out the base makeup, then smoothed the black streak across his forehead, blending it with a few green strokes, creating a camouflage effect that matched his outfit perfectly, adding a rugged touch to his look. “All done.” The assistant checked the time. “Just in time! Lucas, it’s time to go back on stage!” Lucas hurried out, but not before casting a long, meaningful glance back at Emily.