"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.

Why would he ask about this?

I felt guilty, unable to think of an explanation, almost panicking.

Next to me, Rebecca took a sip of her milk and said cheerfully. "Handsome Sir, don't be mad. She didn't invite me either!"

It seemed that my daughter had a good sense of humor.

Dylan's expression didn't soften. His gaze was intense as he continued, "What does she mean by those things she said? Are you thinking of cheating?"

I hadn't figured out how to respond.

Rebecca raised her hand and asked, "Handsome Sir, what's cheating?"

Dylan pursed his lips and replied, "It means your mom being with me."

Rebecca nodded, looking serious as she turned to me. "So, Mom, are you going to cheat?"

Dylan tapped the table with a casual air. "I'd like to know too."

Wait a minute.

For cheating to happen, I had to be in a relationship first.

"Speak."

Seeing I was lost in thought, Dylan impatiently tapped the table again.

Nervously, I nodded instinctively.

Dylan's face darkened instantly. "Debby, why on earth would you think I, Dylan, would lower myself to be your lover?"

Terrified, I shook my head rapidly. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant!"

Denying it didn't make Dylan's expression any less gloomy. In fact, he seemed even more angry. "So what you're saying is—I'm not even good enough to be your lover?"

I was on the verge of tears.

Either answer was wrong!

I looked around for help from my little hero, Rebecca, only to see her staring at the Ferris wheel in the distance.

I forced a smile. "Let's...discuss the case.

"Making money is so hard. Piracy is rampant, and we're so poor..."

I tried to sound pitiful, but Dylan just crossed his arms, scrutinizing me. His message was clear—Don't change the subject.

I quickly shouted, "We're so poor we can hardly make ends meet! Right, Rebecca?"

Rebecca, hearing her name, turned around immediately.

Realizing the situation, she put on her best puppy-dog eyes and whimpered, "Mommy, I'm hungry."

With Rebecca as my witness, my story seemed more believable. Dylan indeed let it go.

"And what about her father? Your... husband?" Dylan paused, looking like it was hard to ask.

"Uh..."

Sure enough, one lie led to another.

I was sweating. "He...he...he doesn't make any money."

Dylan's lips curved slightly into a mocking smile, but his tone was serious. "Then tell me, what attracted you to him?"

I cautiously looked up, avoiding his eyes, and answered tentatively, "His looks?"

"Superficial." Dylan's voice was emotionless.

The room was silent.

After a long pause, he spoke again, "Is looks all you care about?"