She looked utterly delectable when she was blushing. Two faint patches of pink would spread across her pale skin, as if the cherry blossoms had bloomed on her cheeks. Whenever he saw her looking like that, he would feel an urge to reach out to touch her. While doing so, he would kiss her plump and full lips.

It took Brian every fiber of his being to suppress that urge.

"Let's go home," Brian said.

Blushing, Joanne lowered her head and left the balcony in search of Iris, to whom she said they would go back first.

Iris nodded. "Going home early to rest might be a good idea." She then turned to speak to her son. "Brian, make sure you put an ice pack on her cheek once you get home. Or else she might not be able to go out tomorrow."

"I got it," Brian said, picking up Joanne's hand naturally. "Mom, we'll be going first."

Joanne allowed Brian to keep holding her hand. Even if she tried to struggle, he would not have let her go anyway. Not to mention that his hand felt warm. Having her hand wrapped up in his like this felt very comforting.

A "cling" sounded. The elevator doors opened to the ground floor. Brian held Joanne's hand as they walked through the hotel's front entrance. All of a sudden, they found themselves walking into the frenzied flashing of flashbulbs. Hordes of reporters with cameras and microphones rushed towards them in a stampede.

Brian reacted instinctively by shielding Joanne with his body, though it did not change the fact that they were completely surrounded by reporters.

"Mr. Lambert, is it true that you've spent three million during the auction to obtain a bracelet for your wife?"

"Oh? Mrs. Lambert, is that bracelet the one you're wearing now? Mrs. Lambert, can you tell us what you're feeling at this moment?"

Before, when Joanne had to handle high profile cases, there had been a lot of reporters at the crime scene too. The only difference was that back then those reporters had not tried to surround Joanne. Plus, she had never come face to face with a flashbulb before, so it was inevitable that she would start feeling a little panicky. She clutched Brian's hand tightly and looked at him helplessly.

Brian guarded her tightly to prevent the cameras from knocking into her. He bent down and murmured into her ear, "Don't be afraid. The bodyguards will be here soon."

Joanne nodded. For some unknown reason, she felt reassured. A reporter thrust a microphone near her lips and bombarded her with a series of questions. Joanne had no idea how to answer. She buried her face into Brian's chest instead.

Brian was taken aback by her gesture. She was like a lost sheep trying to seek protection from him as if she had found a shepherd in him. Just when he was wrapping his arms around her, the hotel's security arrived.

"Make way! All of you make way!"

The security staff parted the sea of reporters, leaving a clear path for Brian and Joanne. When the driver arrived with the car, they climbed on. The car sped away from the hotel. That was when they knew they had finally shaken off the reporters.

Joanne sighed in relief. "Reporter these days sure are difficult..." she said, drawing up the sleeves of the jacket. Then, she stroked the bracelet on her wrist. "Brian, thank you for bringing it back to me. If it were sold to somebody else, I really don't know if I would ever get it back again."

Even if it were sold to someone else, one word from Joanne, and the buyer would have had the bracelet wrapped up nicely before presenting it to Joanne. Brian would personally make sure of it. It did not matter who the buyer was. After all, something like this would be a huge opportunity for anyone to be in Lambert Group' favor.

Brian would never reveal these details to Joanne. "Don't forget to include the interests," he reminded.

Recalling the feather-like touch of Brian's lips on her own, Joanne felt her face heating up again. But she would not take Brian's words seriously this time. "Pervert!"

Brian's lips curled into an enigmatic smile.

He had something far more perverted up his sleeves.

They got home around 10 p.m. When Simon saw Brian's jacket draped over Joanne's figure, he assumed that the relationship between those two had reached another level. "Young Master, Young Madam, is there anything you need me to prepare?" Simon asked cheerfully.

Joanne could not think of anything, so she smiled. "It's alright. You may go rest for the day."

She slipped upstairs and went into her room.

Seeing that there was nothing else he could do, Simon began heading towards the servants' quarters to retire for the day. Brian's voice halted his steps.

Brian wanted him to get an ice pack.

Upstairs, Joanne entered her bathroom and realized that she still had Brian's jacket on. The jacket did not fit her at all. It hung from her figure rather loosely. On her body, the jacket looked completely unaesthetic since it did nothing to accentuate her figure.

Still, Joanne felt wonderful. A subtle but pervasive feeling of pleasure and satisfaction filled her entire heart, as if she had accidentally discovered the world's greatest treasure.

Slowly, she took off the jacket and held it carefully in her hands. She breathed in gently. Instantly, Brian's comforting scent assaulted her nostrils.

It was like he was standing right beside her.

Joanne's face remained buried against the jacket until she became short of breath. She raised her face. The act gave her a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror. All of a sudden, she snapped out of her reverie. "What the hell am I doing?" she thought. "Now I'm practically a worse pervert than Brian!"

She swiftly hung Brian's jacket in her wardrobe, moving as though she were in shock. She filled up a bathtub with water. After adding a few drops of essential oil, she slipped into the bath comfortably.

This would help cast Brian out of her mind. Or so she thought. The moment she closed her eyes, memories of their kiss on the balcony came flooding back.

She might be imagining things, but she could have sworn that there was a moment when she felt that Brian was kissing her for real.

He was kissing her because he wanted to, not because he needed to create some kind of ruse to throw people off.

He felt something for her.

At the thought, Joanne immersed her whole body in the bath water. "How's that even possible?" she thought. "Brian isn't in love with me. Stop overthinking. It will only lead to disappointment."

After her bath, she blew her hair dry. A knock sounded from her door just when she had settled herself in bed.

"Come in."

Joanne had thought it was a servant, but the person walking in turned out to be Brian.

It was already this late, and yet he was here looking for her. "A man and a woman being in the same room in the dead of the night... is this really a good idea?" she thought.

Joanne slipped further into the covers, leaving only her eyes and forehead exposed to Brian's view. "Do you need something?"

Brian sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed an ice pack against Joanne's cheek.

Joanne hissed as a sudden coldness assaulted her. Her cheek stung, but the pain faded quickly. She lay there on the bed, appraising Brian.

The man looked incomparably handsome from all angles. In the past, his good looks were always accompanied by an eccentric coldness. But now he was in lounge wear, sitting on the edge of her bed, holding an ice pack against her cheek. None of his movements and expressions had the kind of 'water-like gentleness' often portrayed in prose.

Still, Joanne felt incredibly touched. She thought he looked far more handsome than all the other times in the past when he had outright amazed her with his looks.

She felt her hand slowly letting go of that cliff edge. "Fine. Whatever," she thought, "if I fall, then so be it. So what if I never recover."

Eventually, Joanne did not have the courage to wallow in her tender feelings for too long. She took the ice pack from Brian. "I can handle it myself, thank you."

Brian did not make any comments either. He got up to leave. Joanne called out to him, "Wait!"

His steps halted and he turned around. "What's wrong?"

Suddenly, Joanne regretted her decision. She shook her head. "Nothing. Good night."

"Rest early." He left, shutting her door on his way out.

Joanne removed the covers from her body and got up. She opened up her wardrobe and took out his jacket.

Just now, she had wanted to return his jacket to him. But a greedy part of her had decided to keep it, even if it was just for one more day.

She was not brave enough to wallow in the tender feelings he had incited within her. But this jacket, one that was filled with his scent, was something that she did not know how to resist because once she closed her eyes, she could almost feel him with her. The scent was so reminding that she could lie to herself that he was still here

Brian went downstairs for a glass of water. Simon approached him. "The police station called. They have detained Mia. But she'll probably be released tomorrow when Steven walks in with a bribe. Young Master, what do you think?"

"Call the chief." Brian set down the glass. "Mia will not be released no matter what happens."

"Understood."

When Simon called the chief, he found out that Chris had been pressuring the police too. According to the chief, Mia would not be released no matter how much money Steven spent.

Brian smiled. Steven was right about one thing. Joanne was Chris's only weakness. Touching Joanne would bring much greater consequences than provoking Chris himself.

With the way things had played out, it seemed to Brian that Chris was capable of protecting Joanne after all. So why would he come to Iris for help that time? Why did Chris agree to Iris's proposal of having Joanne marry him?

Gavin had once told Brian that Chris might be trying to put himself in Brian's favor. But with Chris's capabilities and accomplishments, he had long since moved past the need to kowtow to anyone. Plus, Chris was not the type to suck up to people at all.

There had to be something that he was missing in all this...

The following day, when Joanne was typing an autopsy report, someone came in and told her that a woman named Mrs. Scott was here to see her.

"Well, it seems to be Patricia." she thought.

Joanne went out and found that it was, indeed, Patricia.

Patricia looked like she had been up all night. Her face seemed pale and ashen. She looked unwell. Patricia launched herself at Joanne the moment she saw the younger woman. "Joanne, I was wrong. I admit that I was wrong. I have done your mother wrong. You can do to me whatever you wish. Just please let Mia go. She's only 24. She's the daughter of the Scott Family. She absolutely can't afford to have criminal records!"

Patricia begged desperately, all the while looking like a completely different person from the harsh, arrogant woman she had once been.

"I'm not a judge. It isn't up to me whether or not she gets released," Joanne said, her face devoid of any expression. "Mrs. Scott, rather than coming to see me, you should go look for a good lawyer. Who knows you might be able to reduce the number of days she has to spend at the detention center."

All of a sudden, Patricia burst into anger. "Joanne Scott, you're doing this on purpose! You want my daughter to have a criminal record! You're trying to wreck her!"

It was against the law to violate and disclose the privacy of others in the first place. Mia knew that as well, yet she still did it just so she could get her revenge on Joanne. Obviously, Mia deserved her punishments. What Joanne could not understand was how this could ever be construed as her trying to wreck Mia.

Joanne could not stand to have this conversation with Patricia any longer. She turned around to head back to the office. In a fit of madness, Patricia grabbed a vase from a table and hurled it violently at Joanne.

"Joanne!" Shawn yelled. He had just been entering the building when he saw the situation. He had reacted instantly and pulled Joanne away from harm.

There was a loud smash. The vase had missed Joanne. Pieces of broken vase scattered on the floor. A few police officers came up quickly and subdued Patricia.

"Let me go!" Patricia struggled for dear life. "I'm going to kill this despicable bitch today!"

Joanne's vision sliced through the air like an ice scalpel. "Mrs. Scott, are you doing this so that you can accompany Mia in detention? If you are, I can make it happen right this instant."

Patricia paled instantly. All of a sudden, she became more of a law-abiding citizen. Joanne said icily, "If you're not, then get out of my sight."

Never before had anyone seen such a scary version of Joanne. Unnerved, Patricia found herself unable to look Joanne straight in the eye. Turning around, she scrambled out of the police station.

Shawn pulled Joanne aside. "Are you hurt?"

Joanne glanced at her left foot. Today, she wore a pair of cropped pants, which exposed a few centimeters of skin just above her ankle. When the vase shattered just now, several shards had cut her ankle. Threadlike bloodstains looped around the pale skin of her ankle. The blood had dripped down and stained her shoes. It was quite an alarming sight.

"It's no big deal. Just have to disinfect it, that's all." Joanne patted Shawn's shoulder. "Thanks. The blood would've been from my head if it weren't for what you did. Treat you to lunch today?"

Shawn stared at the bloodstains on Joanne's ankle for a moment. Then, Shawn looked as if he had discovered some sort of hidden treasure. "Let's head back to the office. I've got something to tell you!"

Privileged Mr. Shawn was most adept at being capricious, so Joanne was left clueless as to what the man had in mind. Suspicious, Joanne trailed after him to the office.