Shangri-La Hotel.
A high-end banquet was in full swing tonight.
Evelyn Harlow stood there in a pink-and-white evening gown, fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass so hard it looked like she might crush it any second.
Her pretty face had gone ice-cold. She lifted her eyes to the man blocking her way and said in a sharp, flat voice, "Spencer, I’ll say this one more time. Move."
"Oh? Miss Harlow, you mad now?"
Spencer was dressed in an expensive suit, but the grin on his face was sleazy as hell. His narrow eyes slid straight to Evelyn’s chest without bothering to hide it.
"Dressed this revealing, all dolled up like this... what, if not to get men’s attention?" He gave a smug little laugh. "I’m talking to you because I’m giving you face. Don’t act like you’re too good for it."
As he spoke, he stepped closer, his tone turning darker. "The Harlows are practically going under, and you’re still putting on this pure-and-proud act? You’re just an adopted daughter. When it’s time to obey, you should know how to behave. Don’t make me do this the hard way."
He reached out and grabbed her slender wrist.
Evelyn casually lifted her hand and pulled her wrist free, like his touch wasn’t even worth reacting to.
She brushed a loose strand of hair from the side of her face and let out a cold little laugh. "So wearing something like this means a woman is trying to seduce men? Then—"
Her pale finger pointed toward a girl across the banquet hall, one in a strapless dress. "If I’m not mistaken, that’s Miss Langley over there, right? Your biological sister. She’s only seventeen. Already dressed like that and out here trying to hook men. So this is the kind of family upbringing your Langley family is proud of?"
"You—"
Spencer clearly hadn’t expected her to hit back that fast. He was so choked by her words that for a second, he couldn’t even spit out a proper sentence.
"And one more thing." Evelyn’s voice stayed calm, but every word landed hard. "Even if the Harlow family really does go bankrupt, it still won’t be your place to point fingers. If you’ve got so much free time, maybe keep an eye on your own sister instead of letting her drag your family’s name through the mud."
After saying that, Evelyn turned and left without giving him another glance.
This whole banquet was seriously lame. Not even a little worth it. She was already regretting showing up.
The moment she stepped outside the hall, the air felt fresher, easier to breathe.
Too bad it was raining.
Evelyn took an umbrella and carefully walked through the thin curtain of rain, planning to head to the roadside and catch a cab home.
Before she even reached the intersection, she heard the sound of a child crying—loud, shaky, and pitiful through the rain.
The crying mixed with the wind and rain and kept ringing in Evelyn Harlow’s ears. She turned her head and saw, outside the glass by the hotel’s side entrance, a little boy curled up there, no more than four years old.
The child was soaked through from head to toe. His wet hair clung to his forehead, his eyes were half-squinted, and his whole body was shivering nonstop.
Spring rain looked soft, but it bit hard. After getting drenched like this, he’d definitely come down with a bad cold.
Evelyn walked over at once. "Hey, sweetheart, why are you here by yourself? Where are your mom and dad?"
"Waaah—"
The little boy lifted his drenched eyes to look at her. His eyes were unbelievably pretty, misted over with tears, the kind of look that hit people right in the soft spot.
He stared at Evelyn for one second, then suddenly threw himself straight into her arms and burst into loud, heartbroken sobs.
"Mommy! I missed you so much!"
He cried so hard his little head kept rubbing against her chest. Evelyn had zero experience handling kids, and this full-on attack left her completely thrown off, like her brain had just crashed.
"Sweetie, you’ve got the wrong person. I’m not your mommy, okay? Tell me where your home is and I’ll take you back."
"No! You are Mommy! Mommy! I’ve been looking for you forever!"
The tiny guy wrapped all four limbs around her with shocking ease and locked both arms tightly around her neck.
She was almost strangled on the spot.
Holding her breath, she said with difficulty, "Be good and let go first. You really can’t just randomly claim someone as your mom..."
But the little one on her suddenly stopped responding.
She quickly turned her head and found that the boy had actually fallen asleep on her shoulder. When she touched his forehead, it felt a little hot.
Her heart skipped. She couldn’t care about anything else now. Hugging the child close, she rushed straight into a nearby clinic.
Meanwhile, the boy lying on her shoulder quietly opened one eye, and a sly little glint flashed through it.