Harbor City. A night full of snow.

Anna Mercer was struggling step by step along the road leading up to the hillside villa.

The weather was awful tonight. A lot of the roads were iced over, and she couldn’t get a cab no matter what, so she had no choice but to walk all the way here.

The midnight wind mixed with snow slapped across her face like tiny knives. Anna sniffed hard and rubbed her hands, which were already frozen stiff.

After what felt like forever, she finally reached the villa gate. She knocked on the guard booth window. Under her knit cap, her bright almond-shaped eyes looked especially clear. "Sir, has Jason Whitfield come back yet?"

She had finally gotten solid news today. Jason Whitfield was supposed to return to Chengyuan tonight.

The security guard saw it was her again and immediately looked troubled. This woman had been showing up here for a whole week straight. Every time, she waited from day to night, but Mr. Whitfield had made it painfully obvious he didn’t want to see her.

"Miss Mercer, you should just go home. Mr. Whitfield isn’t going to see you."

Anna curled her fingers tighter. "Sir, I really need to talk to him. It’s urgent. You don’t even have to help me, just tell me if his car has gone in yet. Please, I’m begging you..."

The standoff across the glass lasted only a few seconds. Seeing her shivering outside in the freezing cold, the guard finally softened and gave a helpless shake of his head.

After that, he turned around and flat-out ignored her.

Anna finally let out the breath she’d been holding. As long as Jason Whitfield hadn’t gone in yet, then she could still wait until he came back.

It got darker and darker. The snow came down harder. Her snow boots were already soaked through, and she felt like her whole body had gone numb.

She had no idea how much time passed before headlights finally cut through the night.

A black Rolls-Royce Phantom stopped in front of the barrier. The driver glanced carefully into the rearview mirror at Jason Whitfield in the back seat, who had his eyes closed, resting. After hesitating for a while, he finally said, "Mr. Whitfield, Miss Mercer is here again."

The man opened his eyes. In those unreadable, shadowed eyes, a trace of amusement flashed by so faintly it was almost impossible to catch. Then he lifted his gaze toward the window. The long-unseen figure came into view, and just like that, his mood turned messy and irritated.

Jason Whitfield frowned. The corner of his cold, thin lips shifted slightly. "Ignore her."

The headlights stayed on as the car passed through the iron gate, which had just opened automatically, and was about to drive in.

The second Anna saw the license plate, she lifted her leg and ran after it. But before she could get far, her body pitched forward without warning, and she crashed straight into the snow. Sharp gravel at the roadside stabbed into her palm, tearing the skin open until blood seeped out.

"Stop the car!" Jason Whitfield snapped.

Before the driver had even fully stopped the car, the man in the back had already shoved the door open. His long legs hit the ground, and he strode through the snow toward the woman who had fallen.

In just a few steps, he was standing in front of Anna Mercer. His hand lifted on instinct, like he was about to help her up, but halfway there, he pulled it back. Then he simply stood over her, looking down at the woman struggling awkwardly on the ground, trying to get up.

"Ms. Mercer, not bad. Pulling the pity card like this? Pretty impressive."

Anna’s chest tightened hard.

She wanted to stand up right away, to save whatever little dignity she had left, but her whole body had gone stiff from the cold. It wouldn’t listen to her at all.

She slowly looked up.

The second she saw that face—that face so perfect it looked almost unreal, like it had been carved by God Himself—the tightness in her chest blew apart and turned into a thousand sharp blades, slicing through her whole body.

Three years.

The man she had once loved with everything she had had only grown more composed, more powerful, more dangerously attractive.

Anna forced herself to steady down and said, "Jason Whitfield, Harrison Mercer was arrested."

"Oh?" His voice was icy, with a lazy kind of mockery in it. "So you came to me because you regret choosing him?"

His sharp, striking features were half-hidden in the dark, impossible to read clearly.

But even without seeing his expression, Anna could still feel that crushing distance around him—that kind of pressure only someone used to standing above everyone else could give off. It was suffocating.

She knew he was doing it on purpose. He wanted to humiliate her.

But she also knew exactly why she had come tonight.

She needed the evidence.

She had to save Harrison Mercer.

"Jason Whitfield, the day something happened at the hospital... you were there too, right?" Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to keep going. "Harrison said he saw you recording everything that happened that night. Can you give me the video?"

"Heh." Jason let out a laugh like he had just heard the dumbest joke in the world. "Why should I? Because you're Mrs. Mercer now?"

Mrs. Mercer.

Those two words hit Anna like a knife straight through the heart.

She bit down on her lower lip, the words almost impossible to say. "Because Harrison was your best friend..."

"I, Jason Whitfield, don't call people who betray me my brothers."

"Jason Whitfield, what happened back then wasn't what you think. Harrison and I also—"

"Anna!" His voice cut across hers, sharp and impatient. "If you came here to dig up all that old crap, sorry, I don't have time for it."

He turned and started to leave.

Panic flashed through Anna. She reached out fast and grabbed the hem of his suit jacket. The fabric was thin, but the moment her fingers touched it, it felt like fire had burned straight into her chest.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice low and helpless, almost breaking. "What will it take for you to help Harrison?"

Jason stopped.

He turned slightly, his deep hawk-like eyes locking onto her face.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then suddenly he leaned down, closing in so fast that Anna’s whole body tensed on the spot.

"I'm a businessman," he said, his tone casual, but every word carried pressure. "I only talk deals."

His warm breath brushed past her ear, intimate and dangerous all at once.

"Think carefully," he murmured. "What do you still have... that you can trade me for it, hmm?"