Chapter 33

Van rarely broke his word, but at that moment, he opened his eyes, and the normally calm depths of his gaze rippled with dark intensity. He saw Winnie kneeling on the console, her slender waist wrapped in the fabric of her skirt, her body gracefully straight as she casually tied his ivy-patterned tie over her eyes. Winnie didn't notice his change. It wasn't until she had finished tying the tie and sat back in the passenger seat that she said, "All done." She sat up straight, her delicate back pressed against the seat, her face turned toward the windshield. The hands that had been playfully at work on him earlier were now neatly clasped, resting on her lap. Her slightly lowered neck formed a graceful curve beneath her one-shoulder dress, glowing with a porcelain white light in the night. She looked like a swan, head bowed in quiet contemplation. Van calmly and deliberately looked away. Suddenly, he felt an urge in his fingertips, a craving for nicotine, but the cigarettes had already run out for the day. He didn't want to break his resolve. Perhaps it was Winnie's calm and composed attitude that seemed too natural. Van stared at her for a long moment with a complicated expression before finally saying, "You really trust me." Those who couldn't see him could only judge his proximity by the reassuring scent of his perfume and the sound of his voice. Winnie could tell he hadn't come any closer to her. She smiled slightly and said, "Of course, I already believe that you and Wyatt are not the same kind of person." Van didn't respond, only raising one eyebrow, his gaze fixed intently on Winnie. "You are such an upright gentleman, believing that a woman's spoken words reflect her true intentions. But Wyatt isn't like that. He's just like all the other men in the world, thinking that when a woman says 'no,' she actually means 'yes.' If I were to tie a scarf around my eyes in front of him, he would never believe it was to hide my shame, but that it was to seduce him." "Sounds like his character isn't that great." Winnie let out a laugh, lowering her face with an understanding and forgiving expression. "I told you, you are like a mountain of snow, incomparable." After a pause, her tone suddenly became more upbeat. "The truth about my relationship with Wyatt can actually be denied with one sentence, but to explain it clearly is not so simple. Of course, I could cry and tell you that everything was forced by Wyatt. But I can't, because I'm afraid you might take it seriously." "Marriage in the entertainment industry isn't exactly rare, but a stable and genuine marriage is quite hard to come by. Good men aren't common, and good men with wealth and power are even more of a rarity. Infidelity in marriage, in our circle, is like the elephant in the room. Everyone knows the huge beast is there, knows it's abnormal, but we've become so accustomed to it that we pretend not to see it. Instead, we talk about the elephant's trunk, its skin, and discuss who has had a brief 'on-set marriage' with whom, who slept with whom, and who tricked the newly entered young girls into bed," Winnie continued. "So, Mr. Robinson has a good reputation because, honestly, there's no dirt to dig up on him. He controls the resources, and of course, many women are sent his way, but he refuses them all." Winnie smiled self-deprecatingly. "I was just joking when I said I knew twelve ways to tie a tie, but in the circle, everyone knows that Mr. Robinson's wife is really good at tying his ties. Every time there's an event, he'll always say his wife tied it for him." Van furrowed his brow slightly and asked, "Then why did he get divorced because of you?" In reality, why would he care about the marital status or changes of an insignificant person he just talked to at a banquet? These things weren't within the range of his interests. But since Winnie had chosen to open with this, Van decided to listen and follow along with her story. Winnie curled the corner of her lips. "A direct question. It wasn't because of me; the divorce happened suddenly. After the divorce, he became the target of many people's interest. Some people offered themselves willingly, others were offered unwillingly. He once found my agent and told him that for next month's charity night, he hoped I could be his date. That's how it all started." "He is a friend of my boss, and he has a good reputation. My agent is a practical person, and when Mr. Robinson handed him a drink, there was no reason to reject it. So I went. Although I was worried that it might affect my image, the entertainment media is actually very sensible. They can tell what should be written and what shouldn't. At events like this, even though there's a public red carpet, once you're inside, they wouldn't dare write about who is with whom as a date. So I went without worry." "And then?" "Then, he started borrowing me more and more, and the rumors in the industry grew louder. People began to think I was his woman, and I didn't deny it. Do you think I brought it upon myself?" "You wanted to use him to block others." Winnie paused for a moment, then smiled faintly. "You're smart enough to scare people." But, for some reason, she wasn't afraid of his sharpness. His intelligence put her at ease and made her feel relaxed. She actually felt safe. "Honestly, I can feel Mr. Robinson's affection for me, but it's subtle and hard to grasp. He's never openly expressed it; he just keeps taking me to events. Of course, he also secretly arranged some resources for me. But I don't need them." When she said "don't need," there was an innocent, stubborn pride in her voice, her lips curving up in a childish way. "I'm the best actress; I don't need more roles." Van smiled, and she noticed his reaction. "What are you laughing at?" "I'm laughing that I've never seen one of your movies." "What?" Winnie froze, nearly yanking the tie off. "How could that be? I've been in the industry since—what, 1, 2, 3, 4?" She couldn't remember exactly. "It's been many years. I've done eight leading roles and more than ten supporting ones. And you've never seen one?" "I rarely watch movies," Van explained. Even with her eyes covered, Winnie's surprise was clear and unmistakable. "But your brother is the best director, and he just won his second Oscar." "He has his own interests, and I have mine. It's normal." "Then what are your interests?" Because her eyes were closed, Winnie didn't see the moment when Van raised his eyes and looked at her. His gaze was cold and scrutinizing, unlike his usual self. Half-lidded and dark, his eyes carried deep suspicion. It was like the dangerous signal a wild animal gives when its territory is intruded upon. Winnie waited for a moment, only to hear Van calmly steer the conversation back. "We're off-topic. Let's talk about your Wyatt." She paused, her previously lively expression fading. Van was patient, but he only left a small opening for her "welcome"—just a narrow slit. She suddenly didn't want to go into detail anymore. She lowered her face, listening to the sound of the sea breeze and waves outside, calmly playing with her fingers. "Anyway, I don't have any relationship with him." Van saw through her disinterest. "Your beginning didn't sound like you just wanted to sum it up. I thought you were going to tell a long story." "I don't have a long story with him. To outsiders, he seems great, very gentlemanly, and all his actions are proper. He doesn't even..." Her voice trailed off, soft and vague. Van didn't quite catch it. He furrowed his brows. "Doesn't even what?" "Doesn't act like Mr. Marlowe did earlier in the restaurant."