CHAPTER 8: CHAPTER 8: NINA SULLIVAN THROWS HERSELF AT HIM

After a while, Ian Kane’s figure appeared in dance studio 1, where a man and a woman, a pair of performers, were practicing dance. Seeing him, they nodded respectfully to greet him.

There was no sound on the surveillance, and it seemed that Ian Kane spoke to them. They shook their heads, and his figure disappeared at the door.

Soon, he appeared again in dance studio 2.

It was empty inside. He looked around but didn’t find what he was looking for and left again.

Shortly afterward, in dance studio 3, Nina Sullivan, who was leaning on the barre, straightened up and walked unhurriedly to the studio’s front door.

Vera Sheridan guessed that it was Ian Kane knocking at the door.

She held her breath, her nerves taut.

At the studio door.

Ian Kane, in a well-tailored bespoke suit, had a black coat draped over his shoulders. Under the cold white light, his handsome face was expressionless, with a noble air that emanated the aloofness of someone in a high position.

The frosted glass door opened from inside, bringing a sweet peach-scented women’s perfume. The man frowned slightly, his jaw tense.

Seeing him, Nina’s eyes lit up, and she smiled, calling out, "Mr. Kane!"

Vera watched through her phone screen as Nina enthusiastically ran towards Ian Kane, and the man walked towards her as well...

In that instant, it felt as if all the blood in her body froze. Her fingers almost dug into the black phone.

The girl’s sweet voice caught the attention of a cleaning lady down the corridor, who glanced over.

Ian pressed his thin lips together, his gaze cold, his voice deep, "I’m helping my wife find a speaker. Can you check if there’s one in the studio?"

Inside, Nina stopped in her tracks, bit her pink lips with her white teeth, turned her body slightly, "There are two speakers in the studio, but I don’t know which one belongs to Ms. Sheridan. Can you look for yourself?"

Ian lifted his gaze, nodded, and as Nina was about to close the door, he raised his arm, his palm against the glass door to stop her.

Nina frowned slightly, then the next moment, her lips curled into a smile, following Ian’s tall, straight figure.

In the corner of the ceiling, a hidden camera quietly recorded.

Behind the surveillance, Vera watched Nina walking towards Ian, seemingly about to hug him from behind. Her heart leapt to her throat, her blood rushing upward, and a furious red quickly spread across her pale face.

Just then, Ian turned around, and Nina stopped. Due to the angle, Vera couldn’t see her expression or know what he was saying to her.

Subsequently, Ian walked towards a speaker along the wall, while Nina went to another speaker on the opposite wall.

Nina bent over, her legs straight and taut, her rear raised, her whole body in a leaning posture, pointing to a speaker and turning her head to look at Ian.

She wore only a nude pink camisole on her upper body, and as she leaned forward, her chest was partially exposed.

Ian had his back to her.

Nina began speaking as if asking him something, and Ian turned around, looking in her direction.

Vera’s fingers clenched tightly on the phone.

A thought popped into her head: Would he pounce on Nina?

The surveillance time continued to tick by, and the man stood there.

Vera’s mind went blank, and she forgot to breathe.

The surveillance time ticked by three more seconds, and finally, Ian moved...

He walked towards the studio door, not Nina.

Vera swayed slightly, exhaled a pained breath, and two warm tears rolled down her cheeks. Next to her, Maeve Holloway also let out a sigh of relief.

"They don’t seem to be anything," Maeve smiled, handing her a tissue.

Vera watched as Ian retrieved his speaker from dance studio 4, then turned off the surveillance.

She took Maeve’s tissue, wiped her eyes, her voice choked with a bit of a sob, "It really seems like I’m overthinking."

...

During the evening rush hour, with traffic congestion, it was an hour later when the two friends arrived at the dance troupe...

In the meantime, Vera sent Ian two traffic updates, fearing he would grow impatient.

He replied instantly to both.

As Maeve parked the car, Vera saw the Phantom under the sycamore tree, immediately opened the car door, and quickly made her way towards the Phantom with a limp.

The backdoor of the car opened from the inside, and Ian stepped out, closing the door behind him, and walked with his long strides to greet her.

After the rain, the sun broke through the clouds, casting an orange glow that bathed him in radiance.

Vera watched the man walking towards her, cloaked in twilight, seeming as though he was high and unreachable, and her heart skipped a beat.

Only she knew how clingy he could be in private.

Sweet memories played like a carousel in her mind, and Vera’s lips curved into a smile. She quickened her pace, her injured ankle going soft, and she stumbled. Ian frowned, taking a big step forward to hold her waist and steady her.

The man bent over, turning his head to her ear, his voice teasing, "Mrs. Kane, only a day apart and you miss me this much?"

Vera’s ears heated up, blushing as she recalled the roller-coaster of emotions she had felt that day. She wasn’t pretentious, "Hmm."

Ian paused slightly, his Adam’s apple moving up and down, feeling the urge to kiss her right on the street.

Smelling the cool mint scent on him, Vera raised an eyebrow, her tone slightly reproachful, "How many cigarettes did you smoke today?"

She knew he was under a lot of work pressure.

But his lungs had been injured before, and couldn’t withstand the harm of nicotine.

Ian straightened up, curling his lips into a smile as he explained, "Had a meeting this afternoon and got irritated by a bunch of idiots, smoked one stick."

"Just one stick." He held up a finger, his eyes full of a desire to survive.

Vera couldn’t bear to blame him.

Ian hugged her as they walked towards the Phantom. Just then, a voice called out enthusiastically, "Ms. Sheridan! Mr. Kane!"

It was Nina.

She wore sunglasses, a fitted, off-the-shoulder cream sweater dress that covered her thighs, white knee-high leather boots, and a nude pink wool coat draped over. Her slightly curly high ponytail bobbed with each step.

She walked towards them.

Her conspicuous pink BMW Mini, a gift from her boyfriend, was parked next to Ian’s Phantom.

The wind blew open the nude pink scarf around her neck, revealing a clear red hickey. Vera frowned, remembering it wasn’t there in the morning. Then she noticed her swollen, luscious red lips...