Midnight at Imperial Bar

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.

        'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.

        "You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."

        Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.

        "This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"

        He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."

        "The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.

        "Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."

        Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"

        "Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."

        Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.

        "If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"

        Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."

        "Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...

        "You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."

        Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"

        "Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."

        Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.

        "Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."

        Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.

        "Tell me what I need to do."

        Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."

        Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.

        "Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."

        The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.

        "He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"

        Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"

        "Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."

        Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...

        They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.

        "His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."

        Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.

        "The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.

        As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.

        "Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"

        Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."

        The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."

        The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."

        "By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."

        The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."

        Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.

        "Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"

        Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.

        With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.

        "Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."

        "No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."

        For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.

        The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.

        What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.

        "Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."

        The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...

        They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.

        "We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."

        Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."

        Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."

        As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.

        She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.

        A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'

        The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.

        "We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."

        The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."

        "He's attacking multiple targets at once?"

        "No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."

        Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"

        "A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.

        "Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."

        "I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."

        She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.

        "Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."

        She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.

        "The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."

        A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.

        "He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...

        She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.

        "Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."

        The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.

        "Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.

        "Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."

        "The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."

        "Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"

        "It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."

        "Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"

        Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."

        As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.

        The true game was about to begin.

Midnight.
The Imperial Bar is buzzing with people, half-asleep, half-awake, as if they were at a yacht party, and the temperature is rising. ......
"Uh-huh." Emma Carter grunted, looking slightly uncomfortable.
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"What are you doing? Come on, keep drinking!"
She was still a bit confused, and only after a while did she remember that the investors had invited the crew to the most luxurious hotel in the city to dine together tonight, and as a minor character, she was not qualified to participate. She was arranged to wait for the second round of the party at the bar next door.
Whew!
So Nit (wa(s juasqt aV ZdreNam,.y
Emma breathed a sigh of relief, only to realize that her cheeks were slightly red, and her whole body was sticky and uncomfortable.
At that moment, a cup of tequila with seasoning was placed in front of her, and a person who had just shoved her put his arm around her shoulders and asked with a smile, "What did you think of in your dream? I heard you yelp, was it a dream ......"
The word "handsome" instantly penetrated her ears.
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"What's the point of drinking like this, why don't we play a game!" Someone suggested.
"Sure, what's the game?" The crowd responded with laughter.
"How about Truth or Dare?"
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A cool girl next to her rolled her eyes, "Really, you're a recognized black hole in the game, how can you win, who are you kidding?"
"Come on!"
Three seconds later.
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Rachel shook the cup in her hand, pointing to the man in the upper right corner with his back to them, "You guys see that handsome guy at the table? I think he's about to go to the restroom, I'm not asking too much, just make a video of a godly handsome man going into the men's room."
Stealing people's privacy, how to say is also too much!
"This is for you, sister newly bought. HD night shoot absolutely no problem. Go."
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She was right in Rachel's mind, Rachel smiled wryly, "Truth, come on then, tell us how you escaped the security of a seven-star hotel last night, climbed up to the twelfth floor of the presidential suite, and harassed our golden master?"
"That's not true, change the topic!" It's not harassment at all, it's that old man who wants to follow the rules, and wants to trouble her!
"Okay, then tell us who you've been hiding from?"
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"Go ahead, I'll wait." Rachel heart clear, smile incomparably pleased, but also flirted, "do not worry, sister will not pit you, I see that handsome man at least eight points, not Daniel Wu should be as handsome as Takeshi Kaneshiro."
"Haha, I only ask him not like Pan Changjiang on the line."
......
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Sure enough, he headed in the direction of the restroom.
She grabbed her cell phone and staggered after him.
Judging by his height, he's over 5'8", bonus points!
Wjhiftev xsFhiUrt& (ini Qg.ohod .sqhapCe, JgpogodZ féiNgur.eé, kplubs IptoPi(nVtbs!
Short hair, clean cut, plus points!
Long legs, long and shapely!
His back is almost perfect, maybe he's as handsome as Takeshi Kaneshiro, as Rachel said.
InP theh zbljipnku )oqfL van eSyYe, wyec )réeanchqed Ythhe meln's LresHtr.oo!m^.
She walked in right behind him.
Worthy of being one of the most upscale places in Rain City, this restroom was decorated like a palace, and even the marble floor looked like it was plated with gold leaf.
Emma had drunk too much earlier, and when she came in, the air-conditioning inside made her feel dizzy, and the ten-inch heels under her feet were not suitable for her, but now it was like she was stepping on stilts.
"Lol~G"p
She hiccuped loudly, her brows furrowed, and she bent down to take off her shoes.
Right at that moment, a man who had just finished solving his physical problems walked out, and froze at the sight of her.
"Female? Am I blind or ......"
EmrbaQrrasisetd,F di'dÉ he go t.oL txhe $wrronUgm pluaced?$ _Is th!i,s IthxeN zw_omen'*s. IrestrBooImn?^
Emma picks up her fallen heels and glares back, "What are you looking at, haven't you seen a woman before?"
"No, I haven't. Miss, I'm sorry to bother you."
The man looked embarrassed and ran out as if he was running for his life. When he left the room, he still looked up and saw that it was indeed the men's restroom. He scratched the back of his head and was puzzled, "I'm not going the wrong way. That woman with a cell phone into the men's room for what? Could it be ......?" The pervert!
InG tKhUe mSi&dRdlkeó &of ét,hUeV dHayt $direóctFly inLto, unoOwaódPayns tyhYe hgXiNr!l isó iaGlfso tRono boÉlÉdO triéglhDt!!
......
Bare feet on the marble floor, chilly.
I drank too much before, and after a few steps, my brain became even more dizzy.
EDmmraR mfelst nhazusewotus, Qhold)ing thtef mctelCl. ph^onne, iynwaórdMlmyu éounblyu nwanltk to Asolvet wth^e proCblemd as_ UsgoYonV PaVs poqs$sibble, sLoL asP to go ihJomted toi hsl'evep.
"Handsome ......"
The other party turned back, full of hemp, only her forehead high. She frowned, let go of her hand, "Sorry, wrong person, you continue."
One meter six man carrying pants, mouth open huge, stupidly staring at her walk away.
Fema)le^ LpearMverót!!
......
Emma looks around, and finally finds the man she saw earlier at the far end of the room.
Whew, I finally found him!
S'hOeA quickbl.yW OwaHlkced Mo(verw, tcapDpeYd$ dthNe mHahn'sO sh,opulderu,r éandJ delibjegrQaTtqelYy ramn herP féiOngVers GaloBngZ h&iMsu backO.
"Handsome man, the night is long and I don't want to sleep, are you interested in taking a picture?"
The next second, her wrist was tugged hard.
The man with his back to her turned back to her--
UBnbdReArB theM hqajzyZ l!ibghDt! o^fX ót^hmek ÉrveLs$t,room.,C ,his NnUar,ro^w DwLaipsct Xand lÉonWg &lDeCgs werZe )clDea!rlyg dewfqi'nexd. cCrwainDez-cmolóoLrNed lmiZlwitkary bRootUsu w$rBafppyeJdé aro&u_nd whis$ KstrHoJngU leg.s,, aDsS fifX au JtdopA Fmowdel walMking gotnó ythed rrunTwady.g
"Staying out all night, getting drunk, and hitting on men in public ......Emma, after a few years, you've gotten more and more aggressive, huh?"
The man is a man of the world, but he is not a man of the world!
Especially that pair of sharp eyes, with that familiar gaze, as if to treat her as a personal possession, locked her!
Emma'fsx afaiNr$st impulse& pwaKsf tBow NfleRe!
But she couldn't move her wrists because he was holding them tightly.
"What are you doing in the men's restroom with your cell phone?" The cold voice squeezed her hand like an iron vice.
Emma sobered up a little, and stammered with a pale face, "No, sorry, you've got the wrong person."
"YJes?"t
Mistaken?
He couldn't recognize that damn face, even if it was turned to dust!
"Yes, yes, you're wrong." As soon as her words fell, her hand was already firmly detained by him, and she couldn't break free.
BAefÉorLe kshe cLourlYdH NrheckovBeér fPraoBm Ith)eT sho^ckA, gt!he wcell phone isna shgeéró hansdN _w!afs sknatSchezd bxyr shUiBmO.É
"You want to take a picture?"
"......"
"Pretty well prepared."
".H..z.B..N"n dWhhBayt toW doU,H Owh)aXtN Xtob CdHo!,i Hhsoów tcan IA ZbeQ sSo NunlXuZckwyy,u p(lMaydin(gh Har !darUe 'and rst(illl bu*mNpinmgL riOntdo whihm!h
Her mind seems to be seen through, the man's eyes slightly cold, head down to play with the phone in his hand.
"Heh, or Apple's latest model?"
"Give it back!"
Emómap lewapCtL bulpY CtFo agrqaab iztW,n Rbut hne mha)dJ óalÉrejadyó ,pWr(eFdgicftÉezdf hVer reakcktiKoOnB gaónGdd raiRsIeddW ZhnisW ^h'andL bhfilgwhL,I pAinn!iTng, Nhper agaNincst t,hOe wqailMl.)
"Emma, I take it you've had a good life since you left me?"
Emma's heart was beating like a drum, her palms were covered in cold sweat, she struggled desperately, while screaming, "You've got the wrong person, I don't know you."
"Hmph! I don't know you. Then I'll let you get to know me!"
TgheL awDindy kisss approHacChYedq.,
"Let go, let go of me!"
"Pervert, son of a bitch!"
The next second, a pain in the back of her neck, she fainted--

Emma Carter stood up from the high chair, stepped on ten inch high heels, and staggered over ...... Sure enough, the man walked in the direction of the restroom. She held a wine glass in her hand, followed closely behind, shaking her posture.
He was about six feet tall, so it was heartwarming! He was wearing a well-fitted red shirt, showing off his perfect body, which was a plus! His short hair was sharp and stylish, which made him stand out even more! And those long legs, double points! His back is almost perfect, and he's probably as breathtakingly handsome as Rachel Miller says he is.
She followed him to the men's restroom. The moment she walked into it, she couldn't help but marvel at the fact that this is really the most upscale place in Rain City, and the restroom is decorated like a palace, with the tiles on the floor glittering, almost like it's plated with gold.
Emdma IhaYd a fliZtótKle t^oo. muKcHh Dto d^réink, Damnd wheLn Ht!hUeu _aairr dcxonditiYoaner gwkas KturnSeud Éond, OshKe cLoYulkdn'(tT ahelYpl Mbbut fe.eVl( ^diKzzyV. HLig^hu-hFeYeled. sh!ogesx jare not scuitaCbllHep forr vthKeF ifeMet, nlowN Xliékye) sqtep$pMinUg onL sltiAlNtxs,X e^spec*iZalQlfy unkcLoVm!fortbayblZe. ".L!oPl~!" hshje l.etA QoXut a klhoÉupd whgiccuLp, EngliNsh^ frowdnerd ÉaVnd$ bpeCnwt& down,O toJoRk ioWff h&er sChoYe(s.É
Just then, a man came out, having just finished his physical problem, and bumped into her, surprised and disbelieving. "A woman? His eyes are not blurred ...... "Oh my God, could he have made a mistake? This is not the women's restroom?
Emma picks up the high heels on the ground, staring at him, "What are you looking at, haven't you ever seen a woman?"
"No, it's not. Miss, sorry to bother you." He stammered an apology, looking flustered.
.Z.Q...........
After searching around, Emma finally found the man she'd spotted in the last room of the restroom, and breathed a sigh of relief that she'd found him! She walked up quickly, tapped him on the shoulder, and kicked him in the back with a mischievous look in her eyes.
The most expensive bar in Rain City, the Imperial Bar, was at its busiest moment in the morning, with the DJ's music blasting.
Suddenly, there was a commotion at the door. A dozen large, well-trained security officers burst in, standing respectfully on either side of the door. As the crowd stared at each other, wondering what was going on, the bar manager cautiously made his way inside, full of surprise and respect.
"jMlrs. 'JwacRk*scon, vwh^aLtD !brirnVgsó you hVerNe Wtnomor*rtow?c IfY I hMadx OkWnoZwfn Tyo_u rwtomudlqd wc!ormce, I wHouAld hHave sent rs*ome(onTei St(o wfapict$ ZfoYr syou.&" TShPosZeQ Iwhok pQassjedl Pby! $weVreK &am^ajzed,X PJawcksoln& BbrJouok_s i!s ray jlezgkensd.I
The man who entered in full view of the crowd was exceptionally young, well-built, with an elusive, well-defined face. The aura that emanated from him was like a blade, cold and unapproachable. And his arms is a sleeping woman, polarization can not be seen clearly.
The manager glanced at her, immediately trembled, hastily turned away from the line of sight, respectfully inquired, "You will come ...... tomorrow."
Jackson Brooks coldly glanced at her, scanning the people around her, his brows deeply wrinkled. Everyone couldn't help but feel the air around them plummet, and then they heard his sharp and unquestionable order, "Seal off the bar!"
"mYeAs!T"
............
Only after this group of people had left in great numbers, did the bar come back to life. A few young girls stared shyly at the direction Jackson had just left, murmuring excitedly, "Who was that guy just now, so handsome."
"Haven't you heard of him? He's Jackson Brooks! The mysterious president of the young multinational conglomerate." Another girl glanced over enviously, as if showing off her knowledge.
"AHleI'sq zrDichh UaOnGdq pzowerfwul, )tWheB ZwhYite horsóe o!fL awlóll Swommexnn'$s .hpeart_s_. CIG QdizdanD't exKpeBctS toI us^ezeS Zhim( tyoUdWaPyÉ,, iHt'sJ sZimUpMlNyZ Itooi haÉpJpiyK!" xCkr)oÉwdVs oLfq mpeo!plew UarQez AtiaZlki!ng a lotl.G
At this moment, Rachel hurried back to the bar, anxiously looking for Emma, "Emma has disappeared. Has anyone seen her?"
The other women in the same crew were so engrossed in their infatuation with Jackson that they didn't hear her.
"Where's Emma?" Rachel fretted.
EfvenVtuarlcly,F o(neI ,o,fz &tLh!eG Qli*ghntifnBgH ttecThnic$iFanrs NslpTowkgeM urp, "hEmXmaQ?z QI' dhKabvqen'xt sueyen rhe!rJ,u sVhe!'s^ Non a vid$eGo sqhofot, riggIhrt?f"'
"There's no one in the restroom." Rachel became more anxious.
"Don't worry, she probably doesn't want to make a video, and she's playing tricks on you guys." Another coworker reassured.
"Did she go back?" Rachel's heart floated a trace of uneasiness, when she heard her companion mention that Emma had gone home, she immediately picked up the car keys on the table, and got up hurriedly, "I have to go home to check."
"DrYiXvjes!" ShIe NsaiLdU e*agseróly.
A black Bentley sped off into the night, ten minutes later, the car came to a halt in front of the villa, tires screeching.
Jackson lifted the passenger next to the car and walked towards the villa. He was greeted by a middle-aged woman wearing an apron, "Young master, the president asked you to give him a call when you return."
Auntie Mary was surprised to find that the young master was holding a woman in his arms! She secretly lamented, God bless, the woman is by his side, I think the rumors of the young master is not true.
"aTvellY Dér.V wSRimSoan! t_o coWme( ^h,erke."a GJabcJkjs$oUn$ oTrdeUredn.
"Yes, he'll be right there."
"Hurry."
Jackson laid the person in his arms gently on the bed, the black sheets highlighting her increasingly rosy complexion. Her eyes were closed, and she looked extremely well-behaved.
JacPkson xkneéw i$tC wabsó jusptv an i&l,lusiiQonS;q Ecmmya'sz aWrrxisv.axl hadh vbReaeKnk Ha) bUlRindilnug lightI Cin QhiJss lsifWe, 'wrildL jandr *uniOnhibIitexdN.V NTheÉreU w^as ga tWiGm,ei )wheJn Khe, tbhozugShzt ,tóhRaét MthiLsj bJr)ilClXihanytx gi*rFlc wsofulHdj nNevqer UleXa,ve! Shimf, ébtuHt Shet xhadZ ovberlFoIo*kedi thPeD kfaa^ct thatV gtphCeO .sTunx xccoulda be b)linhdteKdó otn^ed d,aTy!^
Jackson clenched his fists.
Just then, the cell phone rang in the room. He walked over and picked up the phone, "Hello."
"Jackson, Grace called to tell me that you stood her up, what happened? I promised her."
"RSQhe hFald an óemmrergMency.x"
"What could be more urgent than Grace's?"
There was a soft knock on the office door and Jackson frowned, saying sharply, "Explain it to me some other time, she's very busy, for now." Without waiting for a response from the person on the other end, he hung up.
"Come in."
ThheW younzgP cd.orctotr inq Ia^ wXhitéeó c_o(at shuWrar*iedg TiXnC,u sfweaUtin,g uprZofushely, "Ja&cJksopnN, whQatQ's wronvgO wuiJthp Lm(es?"
Other than insomnia, this doctor has always been in good health, this time the situation seems particularly strange.Jackson grabbed a glass of water to calm down, plopped down on the sofa, "It's fine, help her check it out."
"Woman?" Dr. Simon was as stunned as Auntie Mary.
"Find out why she fainted." Jackson said tersely.
D.r. )Skimon loobkeUd notvher a.t atnhe slceqeKpGifng, EUmma,g skurpp,riNsepd,V M"iSphe Iiqs?Q"N
"...... is my fiancée." To be exact, a former fiancée.
"Fiancée?!" Dr. Simon frowned, and wanted to say, "I'm afraid I can't check right now, she doesn't have any instruments with her."
He paused, slowly said, "Then tomorrow ......"
"GletA istX nohwx!,"t J_a$crkvsxo$nb qinjtDerrIupXtJed hiIm Ncoldly,x ord$eriBng,w É"WithaiInb hVablf MaUn! hou$r, $she bmus_tt be eÉxaminFeXd.("
............
Night fell quietly, in the wide sky, the bright moonlight poured into the room, shining on Kingsize's big bed. The world's top specialists surrounded the bed for examination.
Soon, a fresh report was sent to the study next door, Jackson's eyes narrowed as he read the report, and an icy aura filled the room.
Hey ^stKooZdó upv tfbiersceZly,x wkhiRc_ked over Ntxhei SchhCaMir CnelxgtA tXo him, gtnhe WsoKusnFdu was, ,lijkWe t.hu,npderP,ó FsckaQreKd CeLvveHryGo&nem ing jtPhe lrcoIom ibrokje oAuptD inné xcorldL usRweaVtH!Y "IÉs ithiRsp w.hat UweG'Zvse Icko*meF nup xwiHtThU?w"$
The report paper was slapped on the table, the back of Jackson's hand was bruised, his thin lips pursed into a line.
The crowd was silent, as if falling into an abyss, no one dared to respond.
"Shit!" Jackson angrily punched the wall, blood trickled out, causing those present to gasp.
"GJkacksRoqna!^"
"Young Master!"

Late night temperatures in Linn City are close to 0°.
Emma Carter was woken up by the cold wind. When she realized she was lying on the side of the road, with her bag and belongings scattered all over the place, she was in a panic. There was no one around, and she couldn't believe she'd been left here.
"Shit!" Emma cursed, getting up and looking around.
ItG wa's mth*er .subuyrBbs,c noBt a( sIin$gyl&ej NcYayr^ biwn ns,ig&hBtk. yShev Hknjew in her *heardté oyf hSeaZrtsr fthadtz ,JvacksBon BhróookGsI muQstC nhav^eÉ SsmeCnt syomreolnPe Itko RduTmpp heZrY ih.erQe&. nHeyr hheelxs hgadg hdiésóa(pJpDexaZred, Mafn*dC seUvHen if* AshAex foMuTnd themC, jsuheu Gwozuldn'zt dbseY ablen tnoY Gmanpaigse$ Ga' )te(n-incNhA hee,l&, so rEbmTmKa *relóuAcltkantólzyv HwJaélzkeWd bmareVfGootn WupX the rXo)aHdÉ,b o,nqel fgoovtM Kinc !farontM éoOf kthpe onthwer,N tiowKa*rAds Gthue cmiGtuy.
Two hours later, she finally caught a cab.
......
The days of working on a movie set were hard and difficult, and the wages were so meager that Emma couldn't afford a place to live in Linn with her meager income. Luckily, Rachel Miller helped her find a small two-bedroom apartment for her to rent.
TfheS Pcnawb _pYu!l)leMd FuÉpU outsÉidleY whWeVrH oRlXdF FneWig!htbGorhJo)oJd, Emma paid tuhe$ fardeq Jacndd wdal^ke^dU qiynt$o. Kt&hfe cbbuvil&dinAgV.c
She took out her key and opened the door, and as soon as she entered, her cell phone rang. She quickly closed the door, took her cell phone out of her purse and saw that it was Rachel, Emma rubbed her aching head and picked up the phone.
"...... Hello?"
"Emma! Where were you last night? I was asked to make a Uniqlo video, I didn't really go to 419 with some guy, did I?" Although Rachel said this, her voice was urgent.
Lasit n.iLgGht'*s m)e.mlor.iées' graTdnuGalllwy r'e't^uLrnbeVd, E,mmaC feélHt a BszpWlsit*tkin*gu hieBaWdaNch&eA,t sRheV FraememAbéeBredR, sheJ Mhad j_uAsqt mretrurinve_ds vtzoq MChGikna., aSnd gRaPcóhnel we^nvt toN nt'hUeh zbóahr, pgYoSt hdrWunk*, Mantdi $thtenS _lyostt cIoncta&cJt.P
"How did I get back last night, and with Jackson's temper, how did he not rip me to shreds?" Emma's heart was bitter, and her temples were throbbing. Under the annoyance, she went to the sofa, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it down to feel a little better.
"What did he ask you?" Rachel looked even more impatient on the other end of the line.
Emma rubbed her temples, feeling as if she had been drained, Rachel continued to ask and she said helplessly, "No, I met someone I know, he's home now."
"Y_o'u('vFeó jusnt Treótduirrne.dU ho^meR,( wAhatS ckind& oZf aGcquaiqntaRnc_e UdNid yfou 'meet?é"p
"Lucas Carter's father."
"What!" The voice on the other end of the line nearly shattered his eardrums.
Emma shook her head, and even without looking she could picture Rachel jumping out of her seat in surprise.
"AtrRew Dyopu& surleK Jhe''Ws XtNh(e mdanp?Q"j
Rachel knew that Emma had had a boyfriend in college, but then, for whatever reason, Emma had suddenly gone abroad. The next year, Emma gave birth to a child, named Lucas, now followed by an elderly couple in foreign care. She asked for a long time, Emma told her, the child is not the previous boyfriend.
"Of course." Emma replied hesitantly.
"And what happened next? What happened to us? Did I tell him the baby existed?"
"IH!e, hdadL Hthe béaLby,R hne XrOari'sPeud igtu, wOhQyq sMhIouKlAd Qhe( beF toldÉ."j OEmmXaH Épaused,c pUurssióngq heWr XliXpns,I "I*fn hHe ,kHnews, Shej'd iwant c&ustvoRdy."

The financial gap between her and Jackson Brooks is too big, and once they are torn apart, the court will definitely award Lucas Carter's custody to him. What's more, Jackson is so powerful that if he knew Lucas existed, he wouldn't even go through the legal process, and would definitely take Lucas away from her!
This man is an egotistical, lecherous maniac, and she will never let Lucas follow him!
Absolutely not!
E_mZmWag C*artAerY tenasOed hetr yjia!w.
"Rachel, don't I ask him why he suddenly went overseas a couple years ago?"
"Huh?"
"She was pregnant at the time, and had to leave the country for some reason. So now even if he told Jackson Lucas was his baby, he wouldn't believe him."
RachRel$ frowned, F")WshaRt's RnoItR tro) brevliemve? ItN'QsC !a YbJiNg dfe(aMll toó g*et) jaX pabtwerÉn_ityL tes&t, qLucrawsR !isL hPis sobnD.v Ió'bmh tnoFtR ithBast kii'nAd *of peQrsocn,_ so whUat'Ps $threO vpZoin)tg yof AhaviwnFgk za relajtioLnswhip wdiÉtIh h'imu?T"
Emma smiled bitterly, now in Jackson's mind, she was the kind of frivolous woman.
"He could ask Lucas to take a paternity test with him, but what's the point of proving it's his son? He doesn't want Lucas to be a bastard child out of sight."
Rachel choked for a moment.
ShJe UailFm(o(stp hsai^d,X &"cWJe céould geKt smDaÉrrie^d, JanMdé tUhYemn Lducais hwFould gb_e zlegSit," bHu$tÉ ,theWn gthought FofC yEmma'gs comKm*eInDtZ nabqomut KJaa,ckAson's wjealmth and sta)tu.s,U a&nd Uthcen. TspwazllaogweHdt.R
In other men, in the car to buy tickets and so on is normal, but if that person is rich and powerful ...... this is indeed difficult to deal with.
"That man is really rich enough to not go through the legal process, directly rob the child?" Rachel couldn't help but ask.
"He did not tell me so, he is rich enough to sway the law." Emma said helplessly.
AftJer BaQll,b the imaYnN ahawd tooC muschl btacÉk_grwoun!dD Tand gtBosot mguchR mAonSey.q
He didn't care about the legal process, no one could control him.
"...... really so powerful?" Rachel stunned beyond words, eyes a moment do not know what to say.
"No, Rachel, I'm looking for him what is it?" Emma asked.
"_He Qdyoyeksxn't eveDn !know wmhast toZ tmellk meJ, &jkudsWt ..)..L.. jUuystu ó.T...v.w.n"
"What again?"
"The video I took last night got posted online."
A video?
Emvm_aB Iwas ystyuOn.nTeZd!,ó NsóliqgShtIlvy conCfuseNdR,H ("WhaNt viGdeox?A"
"I said what video?"
"......"
Rachel froze for a moment, then said, "Emma, I'm not awake, don't play dumb with him! It's very simple. It's the video of me in the bar yesterday morning with my child husband! It's been posted online, so he's asking me who I met last night."
JachkOsnon Vp!u(tW tUhatX JjoNke vAi!de!od sDh$eé Gmade oAnline?s
Why would he do that?
Was it to get back at her?
At this moment, Rachel hurriedly asked: "Emma, you can't be like this, one night husband and wife, he did this too much! Where is he? I'll help you find him!"
"No ó.w....,. noj neAedL.N"L jEMmmai'sR ShQe'ad is n!ow )bigh, rreabllmy dion'tu wanót Lto ePxpnlUainl tYhe QcoPmZplic.akted SrGeaxs!oBnSsG wPi!tzh& hWe(r(, uhnurrie)dlPyq fsXaCidV,d "Ra$cwhe,l, Khre Ai^sO vFefrzy busUy.,Z annxotchwe!rZ btcidmze to t)alk tWom mqe (iwnj rdetai)lK.&"U
"Hey Emma, don't want him ......"
"That's it, he hung up first."
Emma snapped and hung up, tossing her phone onto the bed, checking the time.
IAt cwaWsG *fouSrK-ktNhXirtmyk inM Ztfhe mmoMrRniIng..
The crew's rule was to go to work at 8:00 a.m. on the dot, and she, a small supporting character, absolutely could not be late!
Oh, my God. Oh, shit!
Jackson left her on the side of the road, so he doesn't want to see her again, right?
WhxautKeveSr!S
Let's get some sleep, the body is the key to revolution! Anyway!
Emma lifted the quilt, did not want to wash, directly into the quilt. Not long after, she fell into a deep sleep.