I was a socially anxious person, but I had a very outgoing daughter.

One moment of inattention, and she was already tugging at the sleeve of the man I'd had a crush on for years, whining, "Sir, my mom kisses your picture every night until the photo is worn out! Why don't you just be my dad?"

Dylan Turner gave me a deep look, his eyes filled with an emotion that was hard to decipher.

My scalp tingled, and my first instinct was to run, but he swiftly grabbed the back of my neck, lowering his voice with a hint of reproach.

"After all these years, you finally decided to come back?"

*****

The sudden ring of the doorbell woke me up. Groggily, I got out of bed and opened the door.

The next moment, a tall, drunken figure loomed over me, his voice deep and hoarse with a trace of sadness.

"Didn't you say you'd come tonight?"

Dylan Turner?

My mind was in a whirl.

Wasn't he supposed to confess to his childhood sweetheart tonight?

But he didn't give me a chance to think about it.

Because soon...

As the first light of dawn seeped in, I felt a bit stifled, like I was being restrained.

Unconsciously, I pushed, and the warmth of his skin jolted me awake.

His hot breath still lingered on my ear, like a dream.

I cautiously opened my eyes, and sure enough, there was Dylan Turner's handsome face.

I gasped, my mind racing, while my hands and feet slowly tried to move away.

Once I was free from his embrace, I quickly got out of bed, but ended up falling straight to the floor!

Damn!

The pain brought tears to my eyes!

But I gritted my teeth, stayed silent, and hurriedly dressed.

My back ached, my legs cramped, and for the first time, I cursed Dylan Turner in my heart.

Fully clothed, I glimpsed the red marks on my neck in the mirror, and my collar was unable to hide them. I cursed him again.

I turned to look at Dylan Turner, who was still asleep in bed.

Perhaps because of the alcohol, he was deeply asleep.

The blanket had slipped to his waist, revealing smooth skin and well-defined muscles.

I leaned over to cover him with the blanket.

As I did, I noticed the small marks on his neck, making my ears burn.

I couldn't help but try to wipe them away, only to realize they wouldn't come off.

Dylan Turner almost woke up by my action.

My application to study abroad in Anbugan had been approved.

Having made up my mind, I grabbed the luggage that I had packed yesterday and fled.

As the car approached the airport, I looked out at the passing trees, trying not to think of anything.

Five years later, in a small restaurant, a child at my nearby table was crying loudly, drawing frequent glances from the surrounding patrons, while the mother seemed oblivious, engrossed in her phone.

Given the recent issues with my comic being plagiarized, I was already irritable but didn't dare say anything.

Suddenly, I heard a childish shout next to me that drowned out the crying. "Hey, stop crying!

"Ma'am, can you stop him?

"If you can't, just spank him!"

Startled, I quickly covered my daughter Rebecca's mouth. Her outburst made the nearby diners laugh.

The mother shot me a glare and left with her child.

I finally breathed a sigh of relief and said patiently, "Rebecca, eat your food."

But it wasn't long before I heard her strong voice again. "Sir, why are you smoking?"

"Sir, don't you have any manners?"

My heart raced, and I turned to see a burly man glaring at me with an unfriendly expression.

I quickly forced a smile, grabbed Rebecca, and hurried out, regardless of whether she had finished eating.

As we were leaving, she shouted over my shoulder, "Sir, stop smoking! You'll get lung cancer!"

I quickened my pace, terrified that the man might come after us.

What was it like for a socially anxious mother to have an overly outgoing daughter?

I constantly lived in fear.

And I always prepared with three lines—

"Whose child is this?

"I don't know her at all.

"You can't hit me if you hit her."

"Mommy, why aren't we eating anymore?" Rebecca asked innocently, her little pigtails bobbing.

She was too cute for me to be angry, so I tried to reason with her. "That man is very strong! Mommy is afraid of getting hit."

"Then we can call the police."

"By the time the police arrive, Mommy will already be injured!"

"Then we can call an ambulance!"

"And if I get killed?"

"I know this one! TV shows say to contact the crematorium and the insurance company! You named me as the beneficiary!"

I was at a loss for words.

I said, "Just stop talking."

How did someone as socially anxious as me, paired with someone as reserved and stoic as Dylan, end up with such a clever, outgoing chatterbox?

Arriving at Prosperity Tower, bustling with people, I set Rebecca down and held her little hand tightly.

She patted me like an adult, "Don't be nervous."

"I'm afraid you'll get lost," I retorted stubbornly.

She pouted but didn't argue, leading me to a less crowded elevator.

I followed her, pulling up the address my editor had sent me on my phone.

I had to follow her.

I had a terrible sense of direction.

The sound of footsteps approached, and I instinctively turned my head, seeing Dylan, tall and handsome in a formal black suit, surrounded by people.

Even in his composed state, his powerful presence attracted many gazes.

I froze for a moment, then quickly lowered my head.

"I am invisible. I am invisible. I am invisible.

He can't see me. He can't see me. He can't see me.

His eyesight is bad. His eyesight is bad. His eyesight is bad." I whispered in my heart.

The seconds ticked by, and nothing happened.

Just when I thought my prayers were about to be answered, a child's voice pierced the air like a thunderbolt.

"Mommy! Look! That handsome man looks just like your phone wallpaper!"

I didn't dare turn around.

Ten seconds later.

A familiar voice sounded from behind me.

"Debby Edison."

There was no uncertainty in his tone, only a statement of fact.

His voice was calm, with a slightly deep, cello-like quality.

Emotionless, yet it sent chills down my spine.

I stiffened, awkwardly turning around. "Ah, Dylan, long time no see."

He smirked, but his eyes lacked warmth. "It's surprising you still remember me."

I laughed nervously.

Just then, the elevator doors opened, and I dragged Rebecca inside.

Dylan followed closely behind.

I thought it would be less awkward once more people joined us in the elevator, but as the doors closed, it was just the three of us.

It felt even more awkward.

I couldn't find the floor I needed, and Dylan hadn't pressed any buttons either.

The elevator continued to ascend.

I hastily pulled out my phone, frantically searching for the conversation with my editor.

Which floor was it!

I was a bundle of nerves.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the two of them both looking relaxed.

Rebecca kept glancing up at Dylan.

Dylan took out a piece of candy from his pocket.

Rebecca Edison was overjoyed, for the first time, not asking me for permission before reaching for the candy in Dylan's hand.

I pretended to be angry. "Rebecca, that's rude. What do you say when someone gives you something?"

She hesitated, looking between me and Dylan, before finally mumbling, "Handsome Sir, do you have more? My mom wants one too."

I was speechless, my face turning crimson.

Dylan laughed out loud.

I couldn't manage this child anymore!

I lowered my head again, furiously tapping at my phone screen.

Rebecca, happily eating her candy, still didn't come back to my side.

I sneaked a glance, seeing her hold Dylan's hand.

"Rebecca, let go!

I've been longing to hold his hand for almost ten years!" I thought.

What drove me even crazier was that she started whispering to Dylan.

"Handsome Sir, I'll tell you a secret.

"My mom kisses your photo every night...

"She's almost worn out your lips!

"Come on, why don't you be my dad!"

Dylan looked at me deeply.

Rebecca!

I was about to explode!

What was I supposed to do with you?

I would definitely teach her a lesson when we got home.

Dylan kept staring at me, making my scalp tingle.

Just then, the elevator doors opened. Without thinking, I tried to run, but he grabbed my arm.

"After all these years, you finally decided to come back?" His voice was low.

I couldn't utter a word.

Seeing the doors about to close, Dylan reached out to stop them and pushed me out, pulling Rebecca along with him.

"We're not getting off on this floor," I whispered.

"You're on the executive elevator; it doesn't stop on other floors. Follow me," he said calmly.

No wonder no one else was in it.

Dylan took off his suit jacket, handing a carton of milk to Rebecca.

She looked at me, grinning, and I glared at her, signaling her to be quiet.

"The copyright infringement case for 'Stars and Moon,' I'm the attorney handling it."

"Alright."

Then I realized, "Wait, you said this is the executive office. So we..."

He glanced at me without answering.

I sat on the sofa, feeling uneasy, not daring to ask more questions.

"Let's discuss your issue," Dylan said, loosening his tie, and looking serious.

"Oh, right, my three hundred original drawings were..."

He interrupted, "Is she your daughter? Why didn't you invite me to your wedding?"

His expression was extremely somber.