As soon as he finished speaking, Julian felt a sharp pain on the top of his foot. In this cramped space, it was difficult enough to escape Quiana Sutton's clutches.
He was furious, "You wretched girl, do you believe I'll kill you?"
Quiana didn't take Julian's anger to heart at all. She flicked her hair and looked at him nonchalantly, "There are plenty of people who want to kill me, and you don't even make the list."
Her gaze was cool and her expression slightly mocking, making him extremely annoyed, "You wretched girl..."
Before he could finish speaking, a sharp voice rang out inside the car:
"Julian, if you keep nagging, I'll throw you out."
Charles Foote was not someone who got angry easily, but if he truly got mad, the person being scolded was out of luck.
Julian didn't dare truly provoke Charles, so he had to sulkily close his mouth and turn his head away from Quiana.
Faced with Julian's almost childish behavior, Quiana gently shook her head. Raising her eyes, she saw Charles watching her in the rearview mirror; she curled her lips into a semi-smile.
Charles quickly averted his gaze. He could see that beneath that gentle smile, her dark pupils were like the deepest whirlpools, seemingly ready to devour all the world's secrets.
He thought back to Quiana's offhanded remark earlier—
There are plenty of people who want to kill me, and you don't even make the list.
He helped Quiana because he saw that in Durrell's heart, Quiana was special. But if Quiana caused Durrell to fall into danger again, he would have to deal with the troublesome source.
North Star.
When Quiana arrived, North Star had just opened, and besides them, there were hardly any other customers to be seen.
Julian boldly took the best spot for watching the scene.
Quiana remained indifferent, ignoring him, and simply sat at the bar, ordering a glass of red wine. She had just taken a sip when Charles spoke, "A 1996 Estournel red wine, the king of Saint-Estèphe. Give me a glass too."
Being able to tell the wine's origin and year just from a sniff was effortless for Charles, and she wasn't particularly surprised.
Quiana swirled her wine glass, the red liquid spinning inside.
"What do you want to tell me?"
Charles was surprised by her keen perception, yet deep down felt that it was natural for her to be so. He glanced at Quiana, who appeared slightly flushed by the red wine, and slowly spoke, "Durrell is very important to me. If he gets hurt because of you, I will have to do something I'm not willing to do."
The rich aroma of wine overwhelmed her taste buds, and for a moment she felt a bit complicated, but quickly regained her composure.
"If you're so afraid I'll hurt him, you should advise him to divorce me as soon as possible."
Sitting in a booth far away, Julian couldn't hear what the two were talking about; he could only see their movements, which inexplicably gave him the illusion that they were like-minded souls, making him feel excluded by them.
He hated that feeling.
He walked over to sit on Quiana's right side and said to the bartender, "Give me the same as them." Then he pointed at Quiana and added, "Put it on her tab."
The bartender instinctively glanced at Quiana. She nodded, indicating it was fine, and the bartender handed the drink to Julian.
Julian took a sip and spoke harshly, "Don't think that just because you're buying me a drink, I'll look at you differently."
Quiana slightly lifted her eyes, her fingers tightening around the wine glass. She squinted, exuding a chilly demeanor.
"If wine can't shut you up, shall we try some hemlock?"
Julian looked at her as if she truly had malicious intentions. Charles was a bit distressed; these two were constantly at odds and couldn't sit together for more than five minutes without clashing.
He glanced at Quiana and chimed in appropriately, "You didn't really come to North Star just to drink, did you?"
She cast a sidelong glance at Charles. "Of course not. I'm here for work."
Julian coolly interjected, "So, are you struggling in the entertainment industry that you have to come work at North Star?"
"Bang—"
Nobody expected Quiana's wine glass to shatter just like that.
She spoke with a blank expression, "Sorry, my hand slipped."
Julian couldn't resist a jab, "You're really useless, can't even hold a wine glass properly."
Seeing this, Charles quickly kicked Julian, "Shut up, will you?"
He could clearly see that beneath Quiana's calm gaze was a raging storm of anger, giving him the illusion that if these words were spoken by anyone other than Julian, there might be bloodshed.
Julian wasn't stupid; a moment ago, Quiana's gaze seemed to materialize, piercing through him like a thousand arrows.
He felt a cold sweat break out on his back.
Quiana paid no attention to Julian's reaction, nonchalantly cleaning up the glass shards.
Once she cleaned up, she glanced at the still startled bartender, "Do you have any cigarettes?"
Suddenly, the bartender, startled from head to toe, quickly responded, "Yes, yes, we do."
After taking a few drags, Quiana calmed down a bit.
At this point, Axius Somerville walked over. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but it felt like the air in this place was like dry tinder, ready to ignite if not careful.
And who were the men sitting on either side of Quiana?
Confused, he slowly approached Quiana, "Sorry, I'm late. You haven't been waiting long, have you?"
She answered blandly, "No." Then tossed him a USB drive, "What you wanted."
Axius cautiously took it, his eyes darting between Julian and Charles. He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help his curiosity. These two had such extraordinary presence, clearly from aristocratic families, and he worried Quiana might be tricked.
After all, these aristocratic sons loved to play with female celebrities the most.
"Quiana, who are these two?"
Quiana casually replied, "Bodyguards."
Axius: "???"
He muttered softly, "These days, are bodyguards even more handsome than artists?"
Initially, Julian was a bit annoyed at being called a bodyguard, but Axius' remark delighted him, and he temporarily accepted the identity of a bodyguard.
He pulled Axius over, draping his right arm around his shoulders in a brotherly manner.
"Have a drink?"
Axius repeatedly declined, "No, no, no, I still have to go to the recording studio later. If I get drunk, I won't be able to work."
Julian acted as if he didn't hear, forcibly pulling him to sit on his right side, "If you can't drink alcohol, have some juice."
Axius glanced at Quiana with a pleading look, hoping she would save him from Julian's grip.
Quiana turned her head away, pretending not to see. She feared that if she spoke to Julian again, she might really end up pushing his head onto the bar top.