Damien couldn’t be bothered to indulge Claire. He didn’t like the way Cecelia had been looking at him tonight, but Claire’s behavior irritated him even more.

Whether Cecelia had dropped out of school or had a child out of wedlock was nobody else’s business. There was no reason for Claire to keep attacking her with those thinly veiled insults.

This was exactly why Damien avoided dealing with women whenever possible. They brought unnecessary drama. Sometimes he wondered what he had been thinking four years ago when he acted on impulse where Claire was concerned.

At this moment, he didn’t feel the slightest interest in her.

His gaze drifted briefly to Claire’s hand. He made no move toward it. Instead, he said flatly, "You ruined the dress."

"Damien, please."

Damien pulled out his phone. "How much is it?" He glanced at Cecelia. "I’ll pay."

So they really did have that kind of relationship.

Claire calls him Damien in that sickly sweet voice. Him cleaning up her mess without hesitation.

What rotten luck.

The more Cecelia watched them, the more she regretted everything. If she had known Claire and Damien were involved, she never would have texted him that night asking for help.

She regretted it deeply now.

In fact, the only thing she wanted to do tomorrow morning was file for divorce.

Not wanting to watch any longer, she sat back down, picked up her textbook, and said flatly, "Forty dollars." She didn’t even look up. "You can pay now."

Forty dollars wasn’t much to Damien. It was barely a drop in the ocean compared to his wealth. But Claire frowned the moment she heard the amount.

"Forty dollars?" She laughed. "For this cheap thing?" Then she looked at Cecelia. "You must be really desperate for money these days."

Cecelia had only wanted to end the matter quickly. But that sentence snapped something inside her.

"Oh?" She closed her textbook. "I thought you were some wealthy socialite. Turns out you can’t even handle forty dollars." She stood up. "Forget it. I’m not taking the money anymore. Let’s call the police instead."

Claire froze.

Cecelia pointed at the damaged dress. "You deliberately damaged my merchandise and publicly insulted me." Her voice was calm. "Let’s let the police sort it out."

Claire hadn’t expected her to escalate things over forty dollars.

The police? Seriously? If she had known who Damien Vaughn really was, she never would have behaved so foolishly tonight.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Never mind." She waved a dismissive hand. "There’s no point arguing with a money-obsessed lunatic." Then she turned to Damien. "Just pay her."

SLAM.

Cecelia slammed her textbook onto the stool again. The sound made Claire jump.

"Insult me one more time, and it won’t be forty dollars." Her smile vanished. "Four hundred dollars for emotional distress." A pause. "Or we call the police." She folded her arms. "Your choice."

Claire nearly exploded.

What was wrong with this woman? The more she provoked her, the harder Cecelia pushed back. Was she crazy?

Meanwhile, Damien felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. He should never have agreed to come out tonight. Every encounter with Claire seemed to end in some ridiculous mess. At this rate, that night four years ago would become a permanent stain on his life.

Without another word, he scanned the payment code and transferred four thousand dollars directly to Cecelia. Then he turned and walked away without looking back.

"Damien!"

Claire panicked. Seeing that he was already heading toward the parking lot, she immediately abandoned the argument and chased after him.

That woman had completely ruined a perfectly pleasant evening. What terrible luck.

"Damien, don’t be angry." Claire hurried after him. "I didn’t expect to run into that crazy woman either. I was only trying to help her—"

Damien stopped abruptly. Claire nearly walked into him.

"Damien?"

"Starting tomorrow, report to the hospital and focus on your work." His voice was cold. "And stop following me around."

Claire stared at him. Speechless.

"I’m busy." Damien’s expression remained indifferent. "Ryan will take you home."

If it weren’t for what happened four years ago, he would’ve left her standing on the street.

Ryan quickly stepped in and escorted Claire away.

Meanwhile, Damien pulled out his phone and called for another driver. Before the call could end, the sky opened up. Rain poured down without warning. Within seconds, the entire street was engulfed by the sound of water.

Pedestrians scattered in every direction, rushing for cover.

Damien hated getting wet. He was also obsessively clean. After a brief hesitation, he joined everyone else beneath the awning of a nearby shop. From there, he found himself directly across from Cecelia’s stall.

After ending the call, he looked up. And paused.

Cecelia was struggling to protect the clothing racks with a single umbrella. Her stall was built from lightweight folding frames. The umbrella wasn’t nearly large enough to cover everything.

Afraid the clothes would be ruined by the rain, she stood outside the umbrella herself while holding it over the merchandise. With her free hand, she desperately tried to gather the garments together.

But there were too many. And they were hanging on multiple racks.

For a moment, Damien simply watched. Everyone else was staying dry. She was the only one running around in the pouring rain. Then, for some reason, he thought of Candy. The little girl would definitely be upset if she saw her mother like this.

Damien clenched his jaw. Then he suddenly ran across the street.

Cecelia was still trying to gather the clothes when a shadow appeared beneath her umbrella.

Before she could react—

RATTLE.

In two swift movements, the entire stall structure was lifted off the ground and dragged beneath the nearby awning. Only then did she realize who it was.

"Damien?" She blinked. "What are you—"

Damien didn’t bother explaining. He hated the rain. And he hated being stared at by curious strangers even more. "Did you drive here?"

"...Yes."

"Bring the vehicle over."

Only then did she realize what he was doing.

He was helping her.

Whatever her feelings about Claire might be, now wasn’t the time to argue.

A few minutes later, Doris’s cargo van pulled up. Together, they loaded the racks and merchandise into the back. Then Damien climbed into the passenger seat.

"Drive."

Rain hammered against the windshield.

Inside the van, however, silence filled the air.

Unable to help herself, Cecelia stole a glance at him. His hair was completely soaked. Dark strands clung to his forehead before he casually pushed them back. Water dripped from his jawline and disappeared into the collar of his black shirt.

Under the glow of passing streetlights, his features appeared even sharper. His straight nose. His thin lips. His strong jawline. No wonder he’d been successful as a model. That face alone could make a living.

Damien shifted slightly. Then he realized she still hadn’t started driving. He shot her a cold look. "What are you staring at?" A pause. "Move."

Cecelia immediately snapped out of it. Her own hair was soaked as well. Water dripped down her neck as she hurriedly brushed it back and started the van.

Damien’s gaze lingered on her profile for a moment. Her neck was pale. Damp and exposed. The rain had soaked through her shirt, causing the fabric to cling lightly to her skin.

His eyes narrowed. The shirt was practically see-through.

Neither of them spoke. The atmosphere inside the van became increasingly awkward.

After two blocks, Cecelia finally cleared her throat. "What are you doing here?" She kept her eyes on the road. "Where’s Claire?"

At the mention of her name, Damien’s expression darkened. He turned toward her. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

Cecelia blinked. Nothing. She wasn’t trying to say anything. Did they have a fight? Why was he suddenly so irritated? Deciding not to push her luck, she immediately changed the subject.

"Anyway..." She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Where should I drop you off?" Then she glanced at him briefly. "Don’t you have a shift at DL tonight?"