Chapter 162
That girl crouching by the wall looked strangely familiar.
A memory flashed—the girl shielded by Sebastian Valdemar in the café.
So she was a student at Stanford.
"Help!" A scream shattered the quiet.
Evelyn's gaze sharpened. Down the alley, a greasy man had Fiona Valentine backed against the wall.
"Come play with me, sweetheart?" The man leered, reaching out.
Evelyn lunged forward, her stiletto crushing his foot.
A howl of pain erupted.
Before he could react, she flipped him over her shoulder. Her heel pressed against his throat. "Looking to die?"
"Mercy!" The man trembled. "I'll leave! I swear!"
"Too late." She pulled out her phone and dialed the police with crisp efficiency.
Fiona huddled against the wall, face pale. She stood shakily, whispering, "Th-thank you."
Evelyn noticed her swollen ankle. "Can you walk?"
Fiona shook her head, eyes brimming.
With a sigh, Evelyn scooped her up effortlessly. The girl weighed nothing, her delicate frame carrying a hint of jasmine.
"I'll take you to the infirmary."
Fiona flushed crimson, fidgeting with her sleeve. "Um...could I know your name?"
"Evelyn Roland."
"Celadon?!" Fiona's eyes widened. "You're the international designer Celadon?"
Evelyn arched a brow. "You know me?"
"I've seen your fashion shows!" Fiona babbled excitedly. "Oh my god, I can't believe I'm meeting my idol!"
In the infirmary, Fiona kept stealing glances at Evelyn while the nurse bandaged her ankle.
"Done staring?" Evelyn smirked.
Fiona's ears turned red as she hastily looked away.
That evening at the café, Evelyn reviewed design sketches when a white blur appeared across from her.
"Hi, I'm Fiona Valentine." The girl nervously slid a CD across the table. "This is my piano recording...I hope you like it."
Their fingers brushed as Evelyn took it, sending Fiona jerking back as if shocked.
"I'll listen carefully." Evelyn's lips curved.
Fiona fled, her retreating figure making Evelyn chuckle.
What an intriguing little thing.