An Unexpected Encounter

Vanessa stared at the intertwined figures, her heart twisting with a corrosive jealousy she could barely contain. From her angle, Cora was resting against Victor's chest, her slender waist held in his powerful grip. It had been five years, and Vanessa had not shared a single moment of physical closeness with the man she claimed as hers. She dug her manicured nails into her palms, using the sharp sting of pain to mask her raging emotions behind a pitiful, trembling facade.

"As you can see." Cora stepped back, smoothing the fabric of her skirt.

"Talking about work!" Victor blurted out.

The defensive speed of his answer caught Cora off guard. She glanced at him, noting the tense set of his jaw. He clearly cared for Vanessa's fragile feelings, rushing to explain himself the second she appeared to prevent any misunderstanding. A cold knot formed in Cora's chest, but she maintained a faint, detached smile.

Victor observed the casual indifference on Cora's face. He judged her in an instant. She was a scheming, manipulative woman who had taken advantage of the compromising situation to provoke a reaction. He pulled his hands back, his expression hardening.

Vanessa stepped into the room, her fists clenched at her sides. She did not dare act rashly or throw a tantrum in front of Victor, but swallowing the bitter pill of seeing them flirt right before her eyes felt impossible. She put on a mask of severe grievance, letting tears well up in her eyes.

"Victor." She cried out in a theatrical, sing-song whisper designed to secure his protective sympathy.

Victor had always carried a sense of guilt regarding Vanessa, yet he remained a man of few words. He offered her a flat, unreadable glance. Vanessa looked back at him with calculated doubt, her charming eyes broadcasting the profound hurt of a woman who suspected she was being cheated on. She could not fathom what Cora had done to make a notoriously cold-hearted man break his own boundaries. The heavy pressure gnawed at her. Dropping her pitiful act for a split second, Vanessa shot Cora a fierce, warning glare.

Cora maintained a mask of emotional detachment. She refused to play a supporting role in this ridiculous soap opera. She met their stares with a chilling calm.

"Could you please take your relationship drama outside? This is my office." Cora stood her ground.

"Cora, I don't know what I did to offend you that made you misunderstand me." Vanessa staggered back half a step, adopting a weak and fragile posture.

"Are you being misunderstood? I always give as good as I get. There is nothing to worry about, Miss Atwood." Cora walked over to her desk and picked up her bag.

"Please leave my office to talk. It is time to get off work, and I have a prior appointment." She did not spare them another glance.

The dismissive and arrogant tone offended Victor to his core. His powerful aura flared, freezing the air in the small office. He was a man accustomed to ultimate deference and respect. No one had ever dared to hand him a blunt eviction notice and treat him like an unwanted nuisance. His jaw tightened into a rigid line. Without uttering a single word, he turned and strode out the door. Vanessa let out a panicked gasp and scrambled after him, desperate to keep up with his long strides.

Thirty minutes later, the tense atmosphere of Aura was replaced by the luxurious ambiance of the Neptune revolving restaurant. High above the bustling city, the midday sun poured through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the pristine white tablecloths. Cora sat across from her five-year-old twins, Mason and Sophie. She had promised them a steak lunch, and she never broke a promise to her children. They were the center of her universe, and maintaining her own boundaries earlier meant she could prioritize this moment with them.

"Mason, Sophie, what do you think of your new kindergarten?" Cora sliced a small piece of steak, watching her brilliant children with fond amusement. Since returning to the country, her chaotic schedule had left her little time to inquire about their daily school life.

"Mommy, we do not want to go to that kindergarten anymore. The children there are far too childish. They cry over spilled juice and fight over wooden blocks. My brother and I can learn everything by ourselves at home. There is no need to waste money on tuition." Sophie shook her head with unwavering certainty.

"You are both so stingy." Cora chuckled, her eyes crinkling with genuine warmth.

The twins were brilliant, well-behaved, and self-sufficient. However, they possessed a dedication to thriftiness that bordered on the absurd for their young age. The only reason they were dining in a high-end establishment like the Neptune revolving restaurant was because Sophie had navigated a web browser to snatch an exclusive digital coupon.

"Mommy, we must spend every cent wisely. You have to believe in the financial perception of a Taurus. The stars dictate that I protect our family's assets. My astrology sign makes me an apex predator when it comes to savings, and you should be grateful." Sophie tilted her small head, her expression turning serious.

Cora kicked herself for using the word stingy. She had accidentally opened the floodgates to one of Sophie's favorite lectures.

"Mommy, I am going to the bathroom." Mason pushed his chair back and stood up.

He knew his sister's habits better than anyone. Once Sophie started rambling about the zodiac, planetary alignments, and their direct correlation to grocery store discounts, she would not stop for hours.

"Mason, wait for me! I will go too!" Sophie hopped down from her seat.

Mason rubbed his temples, letting out a heavy sigh that sounded far too mature for a five-year-old. His desperate attempt to escape her annoying chatter had failed. He turned and walked down the carpeted hallway, followed by his sister, who continued to lecture him on why Capricorns needed to respect the fiscal responsibility of a Taurus.

The opulent bathrooms of the Neptune restaurant featured polished marble floors, gleaming brass fixtures, and a row of pristine sinks. Mason stood on his tiptoes, stretching his small arms to run his hands under the warm water of the automated faucet. He was just reaching for a paper towel when a well-dressed, older woman burst into the rest area. She was walking with aggressive haste, her expensive heels clicking against the marble.

Without paying attention to her surroundings, she bumped her hip hard into Mason. The sudden impact sent the boy stumbling backward, shaking wet droplets from his small hands directly onto the fabric of her tailored dress.

Diane stopped in her tracks, her manicured hands flying to her ruined garment. She spun around, her eyes blazing with fury, prepared to unleash a torrent of abuse. But as her gaze landed on Mason's face, the words died in her throat. She stared at him, stunned into total silence. The boy possessed a pair of sharp, intelligent eyes, a straight nose, and a distinct jawline that mirrored an adult she knew all too well. His striking, undeniable resemblance to Victor Crawford sent a shockwave of panic through her system. Was this Victor's hidden illegitimate child? She had never heard a single whisper of such a thing in their social circles.

Diane masked her internal shock with a venomous layer of vicious arrogance. She could not afford to look weak in front of a mere child. She pointed a trembling, rage-filled finger at Mason.

"You blind brat! Are you incapable of watching where you are going? My dress costs tens of thousands of dollars! Look what you have done! Go get your parents right now so they can compensate me for this damage!"

"Madam, you were the one who hit me. I was standing still at the sink." Mason looked up at the furious woman, his tone calm and logical.

"You dare talk back to me?" Diane shrieked, her voice echoing off the marble walls.

A bathroom stall door swung open with a loud bang.

"Your dress does not cost tens of thousands of dollars. It is a counterfeit! You bumped into my brother on purpose, and now you are trying to blackmail us for money!" Sophie craned her neck to glare up at the older woman.

Sophie's voice was cute, but her posture radiated an intimidating, unshakable confidence. She stood like a miniature general defending her territory.

"You little brats are stubborn. It is obvious that you have no parents to teach you basic manners. Since they are not around, I will take it upon myself to teach you a lesson today!" Diane’s face twisted into an ugly sneer.

Diane raised her hand high into the air, her palm flat and ready to strike the children across their faces.

Mason stepped in front of his sister, shielding her from the impending blow. "I think you are the ill-bred one here."

His voice carried a heavy, authoritative weight that made Diane's raised hand falter for a fraction of a second. They did not have a father in their lives, and they possessed zero tolerance for strangers insulting their family dynamic.

A young man emerged from the adjacent hallway, having witnessed the escalating confrontation. He possessed striking, handsome features, dressed in a casual yet expensive designer suit. He stepped forward quickly, placing himself between the raging woman and the two children.

"Madam, please calm down. The children are correct. I saw the entire thing, and you did hit the child first. Furthermore, your skirt only has a few drops of water splashed on it. It will dry in minutes." He offered Diane a polite but firm smile.

"Mind your own business! Are you their father? If you want to play the hero so badly, then you pay up! Compensate me right now!" Diane shifted her vicious glare to the newcomer.

The young man frowned, his polite smile fading. He mentally labeled the woman as an unreasonable shrew. He opened his mouth to argue, but Sophie beat him to it.

"Sir, just ignore her empty threats. She is nothing but a liar. Her dress is a cheap fake. The genuine version of that specific designer brand is custom-made. It is famously constructed with an exact ratio of forty-eight percent silk and fifty-two percent linen. The way that fabric creases around your waist proves it is made of cheap synthetic polyester. You are wearing a knockoff!" Sophie pointed a tiny, accusatory finger at the fabric of Diane's dress.

The young bystander raised his eyebrows in genuine astonishment. He had never seen a child expose luxury counterfeits with such terrifying precision.

Diane's face flushed bright red, a deep, burning embarrassment crawling up her neck. Sophie's assessment was accurate. The dress was a high-quality knockoff she had purchased. She had worn it to three different high society functions, and not a single wealthy socialite had noticed the deception. To have her secret laid bare by a kindergartener in a public restroom was humiliating. Despite the crushing embarrassment, Diane refused to back down and admit defeat.

"What do you know about fashion, you stupid little girl? You just do not want to pay for the damage you caused, so you are trying to frame me for wearing a fake! I will not tolerate this disrespect! Since you are so determined to help them, you must know them. Pay me the compensation right now, or I will call restaurant security and make a massive scene!" Diane snapped defensively, attempting to regain the upper hand.

"Madam, if you can show us the official receipt on the brand's official mobile application, I promise to compensate you double the original price. I will even ensure we do not ask you for an apology for raising your hand at us." Mason stepped around the young man, facing Diane with a serious expression.

He placed his hands in his small pockets, projecting an aura of absolute dominance. He trusted his sister's knowledge of luxury goods without question.

"By the way, if you forgot which specific boutique you bought it from, my sister can give you a hint. The purchase records are always linked to the brand's app. Do you want me to help you download the app right now so we can check it together?" Mason continued, his tone dripping with mock helpfulness.

Diane's expression contorted into an ugly, panic-stricken grimace. She took a step back, her mouth opening and closing without producing a single sound. She was trapped in a corner by a five-year-old boy.

Standing off to the side, the handsome young bystander watched the brilliant twins with profound intrigue. He folded his arms across his chest, entertained by the way these tiny humans were destroying the arrogant woman's argument. He was not usually the type of person to get involved in petty public disputes, but he abhorred adults who bullied children. As he studied the twins' sharp features and commanding presence, a sudden realization hit him. They looked exactly like a certain annoying man he knew. The resemblance was uncanny, right down to the cold, authoritative glare the little boy was currently using to dissect the shrew.

Before he could ask the children for their names, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Mason? Sophie?" Cora approached the rest area.

"Mommy!" The twins abandoned their defensive stances.

They ran past Diane and the young man, throwing their arms around Cora's legs.

The young man turned his head to look at the approaching mother. The moment his eyes landed on Cora, he was captivated. She possessed an enchanting beauty that practically stole the oxygen from the hallway. Her fair skin glowed under the warm restaurant lighting, contrasting beautifully with her flowing dark hair. Her oval face was framed by a pair of striking, intelligent eyes that held a magnetic allure. He had crossed paths with thousands of gorgeous women in his affluent circles, but the woman standing before him outshone them all.

Cora rested her hands gently on her children's shoulders, ensuring they were unharmed. The twins turned back toward the young man, their previous hostility replaced with polite gratitude.

"Thank you for helping us, sir." They bowed their heads in unison.

Diane stood frozen near the bathroom sinks. The humiliating sting of the counterfeit dress argument vanished, replaced by a much darker, colder realization. She slowly lifted her gaze from the twins and stared directly at their mother. When she recognized the familiar contours of the woman's face, the breath left her lungs in a rush.

She pointed a trembling finger at Cora and cried out in sheer shock, "It's you!"