"Or else you'll what?"
Vincent Hawthorne leaned in, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. He narrowed his eyes, staring at her intently. "Does being with me disgust you that much?"
Faye Vaughn shook her head. Her long, loose hair was slightly disheveled, draping over her pale, jade-like neck.
Her voice trembled. "Military Governor... I'm your brother's woman."
According to the script, the female lead and the Military Governor were childhood sweethearts. But as a cruel twist of fate, they were separated, and the heroine ended up as a singer at The Starlight Lounge.
There, she caught the eye of another powerful warlord—the Military Governor's older cousin—and became his "sister-in-law."
What a coincidence.
It was just like in real life, where Vincent Hawthorne suffered from unrequited love for a woman who was about to marry his own older brother.
"If you dare to try anything, I'll..."
Faye Vaughn twisted her wrist, aiming the tip of the blade at her own heart. Her tone was fiercely virtuous. "My innocence is reserved for your brother!"
A flash of pain crossed Vincent Hawthorne's eyes.
"I forbid it!"
He reached out, grabbing her wrist forcefully, and roared, "You can only be mine!"
Faye Vaughn frowned slightly.
He was hurting her.
Vincent Hawthorne frowned as well.
The skin under his palm was soft and smooth. The girl's delicate skin was a stark contrast to his own roughness.
Almost unconsciously, he tightened his grip.
Her slender wrist felt so fragile, as if he could snap it with just a little more force.
"Let me go!"
Faye Vaughn pretended not to notice his lapse in concentration and continued with her lines. "I don't love you at all! Are you going to force yourself on me?"
The emotions Vincent Hawthorne had long suppressed surged violently within him. He dragged her over and pinned her down on the desk.
"If I did force you, do you think my older brother would still marry you?"
Faye Vaughn lay on her back on the desk, her long hair fanned out around her. She shook her head, tears in her eyes. "No, you can't do this to me..."
A storm of love and hate swelled in Vincent Hawthorne's chest, threatening to burst.
He stared into her beautiful, shimmering, tear-filled eyes and sneered, "Haven't I been good enough to you? I've been too good to you, and that's why you take me for granted!"
He gripped the hem of her dress and gave it a sharp tug!
RRRIP.
The distinct sound of fabric tearing.
Vincent Hawthorne froze.
The girl on the desk, her long, pale legs, the tattered scraps of fabric barely concealing anything... The image was incredibly provocative.
Vincent Hawthorne's expression changed drastically, and he quickly backed away a few steps.
"I'm going to the washroom!"
He threw out the words hastily and turned toward the bathroom.
The sound of hands being washed soon came from inside.
Faye Vaughn pushed herself up, leaning on the corner of the desk, a faint smile playing on her lips.
'He's only remembering his mysophobia now?'
A full ten minutes passed before Vincent Hawthorne emerged from the bathroom.
Faye Vaughn glanced at his hands.
He must have washed them over and over; the skin on the backs of his hands was red.
"Second Young Master, is that all for today's rehearsal?"
Faye Vaughn asked politely.
With a sullen face, Vincent Hawthorne gave a cold grunt of affirmation.
Faye Vaughn remembered her clothes were still in the bathroom. "I'll go change back into my own clothes, then."
Vincent Hawthorne ignored her.
He still seemed lost in the scene they had just played out.
His mind was a chaotic, frustrating mess.
He lit a cigarette and took a few drags. Then he glanced at his fingers—the same ones that had just been gripping Faye Vaughn's wrist...
He crushed the cigarette butt out in disgust.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Vincent Hawthorne went to look through the peephole, and his heart leaped into his throat.
'Vivian!'
'What is she doing here?!'
"Vince."
Vivian Windsor called softly from outside.
Vincent Hawthorne glanced at the bathroom. Faye was still inside.
"Vince, aren't you going to open the door for me?"
Vivian's voice held a hint of grievance.
A pang of tenderness struck Vincent Hawthorne's heart. Unable to resist, he opened the door.
He put on a gentle smile. "Vivian, you're back in the country?"
"Don't call me Vivian, Vince. Call me 'big sister'."
Vivian's tone was bright and playful, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the gloom.
The gloomy mood Faye had stirred up in Vincent Hawthorne gradually began to lift.
He thought, 'An imitation really is just an imitation.'
'How could she ever compare to the real thing?'
"I'm only a year younger than you."
Vincent Hawthorne chuckled. "Vivian."
Vivian gave him a look that said she was helpless against him. "The crew of *Mysteries of the Republic* invited me to make a cameo. I heard from the staff that you came to visit the male lead, Ethan Shaw, on set."
Vincent Hawthorne replied quickly, "That's right, Ethan is a good friend of mine. He insisted I help him try on a costume just now."
He used the opportunity to explain the Military Governor's uniform he was wearing.
Vivian tossed her wavy, brown hair, her smile radiant. "Vince, aren't you going to invite me in for some tea? I rushed straight to the set after my flight. I'm dying of thirst."
Vincent Hawthorne froze for a second.
'If Vivian saw Faye... he'd never be able to explain it.'
"My luggage is all over the place, the room's a bit of a mess."
Vincent Hawthorne suggested nonchalantly, "How about I take you out for a late-night snack? I know a private kitchen that's open 24 hours."
Vivian pouted and said teasingly, "Vince, are you hiding a girl in here? Is that why it's not convenient for me to come in?"
"Let me see?"
Taking advantage of their familiarity, she pushed past Vincent Hawthorne and walked straight into the room.
There was no one else in the room.
Vivian wrinkled her nose. She caught the scent of a rose-and-milk-scented body wash.
It was a luxury brand, one for women.
It wasn't the hotel's standard issue, and it certainly wasn't something Vince would use himself.
"So you really are hiding someone?"
Vivian looked toward the closed bathroom door, her eyelashes lowering sadly. "Vince, why didn't you tell me you got a girlfriend?"
Vincent Hawthorne couldn't bear to see her sad and stated adamantly, "I'm not dating anyone."
Vivian pointed to the bathroom. "Then..."
She walked over and put her hand on the doorknob. "Vince, can I open it and see?"
Vincent Hawthorne's mind raced, trying to come up with an excuse to explain Faye's presence.
Without waiting for his answer, Vivian suddenly pulled the bathroom door open.
Inside, it was empty.
There was no woman.
Only the faint scent of roses still lingered in the air.
Vivian frowned, suspicious.
'She knew perfectly well how intense Vince's feelings for her were.'
'For all these years, she had enjoyed his fervent yet clandestine favoritism.'
'There was no way she would ever let anyone else have that wonderful feeling.'
"Vince, I'm sorry. Am I being too controlling?"
Vivian turned back, her expression a mixture of hurt and nostalgia. "It's just a habit from when we were kids. I forgot you're all grown up now. What right do I even have anymore..."
"Vivian."
Vincent Hawthorne cut her off. "I've told you before, you can always boss me around."
Vivian finally broke into a happy smile. "Really? You're the one who said it. In that case, don't blame me for being a nagging 'big sister'."
Vincent Hawthorne's gaze softened as he smiled. "Why do you like being the 'big sister' so much?"
Vivian huffed lightly. "Once a big sister, always a big sister. It's your own fault for calling me that when we were little."
Vincent Hawthorne smiled faintly and didn't argue.
'Big sister is better than sister-in-law, at any rate.'
'But it was strange... how did Faye just vanish into thin air?'
"Vince, I'm a bit tired. Let's skip the tea for now. We can have a meal together tomorrow."
Vivian gave a casual excuse, waved, and left.
Vincent Hawthorne saw her out and then carefully double-locked the door.
He scanned the room.
The desk, the bed, the sofa—everything was in plain sight.
Except...
Vincent Hawthorne walked to the wardrobe and yanked it open!
Inside the narrow wooden wardrobe, the girl was huddled beneath a row of hangers.
She was sitting with her knees drawn to her chest. When she saw him, she lifted her small face and beamed. "Second Young Master, pretty smart of me, right?"
Vincent Hawthorne couldn't help but narrow his eyes.
'She didn't look like Vivian right now.'
'With that cunning look, she was like a little fox.'
"This is gonna cost you extra, Second Young Master."
Faye Vaughn held out her hand without hesitation.