CHAPTER 12: CHAPTER 12: "I NEVER BETRAYED YOU.

Listening to his mother’s words, Ian’s jaw grew tighter and tighter, and the air around him was heavy.

A moment of silence.

After a while, he finally spoke, "Mom, I’m at Vera’s workplace. That’s all for now."

As soon as he hung up, he reached for the cigarette box, shook out one, held it in the corner of his mouth, and lowered his head with a frown. The lighter made a crisp metallic "ding," and the flame illuminated his gloomy, deep eyes.

After finishing the cigarette, he got out of the car and entered the dance troupe.

He found Vera in the dance troupe’s infirmary.

In the cramped and narrow space, she sat in a wheelchair by the wall, covered with a blanket over her legs and a gray coat draped over her shoulders.

She had her arms crossed over her chest, the back of her head against the wall, her eyelids closed. Strands of black hair fell by her cheek, against the pale skin, giving her a more cold and aloof appearance under the incandescent light.

Ian took a step forward, ducking under the old-fashioned chandelier, walked up to her, knelt down on one knee, and checked her injured ankle.

It was red and swollen, wrapped with an ice pack.

Vera had already sensed his presence, a strong tobacco scent with a hint of cedarwood.

She didn’t resist his touch, but her mind was full of the filthy possibility that he might really be cheating with her student.

Ian, still with emotions, looked up at her closed eyes, irritated in tone, "The doctor said you shouldn’t dance, so why did you?"

Vera opened her eyes.

Looking down, she met his cool, stern face.

She was slightly taken aback, as it was the first time in seven years of knowing him that he showed her such an expression.

She said nothing, just quietly watched him.

Their eyes met, and after a few seconds of silence, Ian conceded first, stood up, his large hand pressing the back of her head into his embrace, "I was worried your ankle would get worse. Sorry, I was a bit anxious. Be good."

Vera remained silent, her palm tightly gripping the cufflink.

Ian helped button up her coat, "I’ll take you to the hospital for a check-up."

Vera softly replied, "Okay."

...

They went to a hospital under the Kane Group. After taking the film, a team of experts confirmed that the old injury hadn’t worsened.

Leaving the hospital and getting back into the car, it was already past nine.

In the dim car, Vera quietly watched the view outside the window.

Ian handed her a hot milk, "Mrs. Kane, Director Thorne just reminded me again that you can’t dance anymore."

Vera slightly curled her lips, turned to look at him, "Do you know why I danced today?"

Ian was slightly taken aback, "Why?"

Through the fragmented shadows cast by the city’s neon lights outside, she scrutinized him, her tone calm, "Nina Sullivan."

With those words, she clenched her molars tightly.

In the dark, it was hard to see the man’s expression, only sensing that the air pressure around him was low, his tone deep: "Honey, what did she do to you?"

He sounded as if he thought Nina had bullied her.

The cufflink in her palm pricked her, yet he was still acting.

Vera scrutinized him, "Nina recently started dating a very mysterious boyfriend that no one has met. She often skips training to rendezvous with him, and sometimes they even..."

Saying this, a feeling of nausea welled up in her throat.

Ian turned on the small overhead light and looked at her, "And what’s that got to do with your dancing?"

He acted as if it was an unrelated matter, his expression open, without a hint of guilt.

If it was an act, his acting was just too good!

Vera tightened her grip on the cufflink, "Nina told me her boyfriend is too wild in private, which is why she always skips training. I was unhappy with her professional attitude and said a few words to her in public."

After speaking, she stared at him unblinkingly.

The man also looked at her, seeming to notice her emotions, raised an eyebrow, and asked in a puzzled tone, "Mrs. Kane, what kind of look is that?"

"Talking about someone else, why glare at me like that? Want me to ban Nina right now?"

Vera was stunned.

She had laid everything out, and yet he still acted like it didn’t concern him.

Vera opened her palm, presenting the cufflink to him, "Mr. Kane, guess where I picked up this cufflink?"

Ian lowered his gaze, picked it up from her palm, examined it under the small overhead light with a serious expression, "Where?"

Vera gritted her teeth, "In the dance troupe’s women’s dressing room. That’s where I found it."

"Ian, how do you plan to explain this?" Her eyes pierced through him, uttering through gritted teeth.

Ian clearly flinched, asking back, "My cufflink, found in your dance troupe’s women’s dressing room?"

After saying this, he examined the cufflink again under the overhead light, "It can’t be mine."

"Last night, I took off two in the wardrobe. You know that." He spoke with certainty.

Vera’s gaze grew sharper, "You were lying to me last night."

Ian squinted slightly, observing her, then glanced at the cufflink between his fingers, his temple vein twitching as he let out a light scoff, "Mrs. Kane, you mentioned Nina Sullivan just now, and now the cufflink, could it be you think I was with her...?"

A hint of bitterness flashed in the depths of Ian’s dark eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Vera couldn’t tell if his acting was impeccable or if he was truly innocent.

But the cufflink was undeniable evidence.

"Isn’t it possible?" she retorted.

Ian pursed his lips, turning to look out the car window.

He seemed angry.

Vera leaned her head back against the seat, her throat feeling like cement was being slowly poured into it, hard and painful.

She wished he wasn’t acting, that it was just a false alarm.

The car was dead silent.

After a while, Ian sighed, raising his arm to embrace her, but Vera coldly avoided it.

He leaned closer to her, his voice gentle and sincere, "Honey, it’s my fault, for not giving you a sense of security."

Vera frowned.

He still wouldn’t admit it.

She looked at the bustling traffic outside, her voice hoarse, "Ian, I told you, if you can’t bear a sexless marriage or if you’ve had a change of heart, just tell me, I can let you go willingly. The one thing I can’t tolerate is betrayal."

At the wedding, his vow to her was still in her ears: Vera, unless I die, I will never betray you in this life.

Vera’s eyes grew hot, her vision blurred, the street scene outside becoming bizarre and surreal.

The streetlights illuminated Ian’s cold and handsome face, and he spoke firmly, "I haven’t betrayed you."

"Did Nina Sullivan upset you? I’ll ban her, and she won’t be allowed in Ardendale ever again."