Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph

In the private room, it was just Ethan and Faye.

Ethan glanced up and locked eyes with me. Neither of us was shocked to see the other.

"Ethan, I'm outta here."

Faye was all jittery and hadn't even noticed me walk in. I'd already set the tray on the table, and she hadn't looked up, probably thinking I was just some waiter.

I poured a glass of wine and slid it over to her, saying coolly, "Bailing already? What's the hurry?"

Faye's head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. "Why is it you?"

"So, this Mr. Windsor ain't Victor!"

Bella suddenly got it, pulled out a chair, and plopped down, ready for the drama.

Faye glanced between Ethan and me, piecing things together, her eyes darting around, looking kinda guilty.

I didn't bother pouring Ethan any wine, just handed him a glass of warm water. Then I took a seat next to him.

On the burgundy tablecloth, there was a stack of papers.

Ethan drummed his fingers on the documents and gave a faint smile.

"Faye, I was planning a surprise for you, and you showed up right on cue."

Of course, I knew this wasn't just a random thing.

And when Faye walked into the restaurant, she had no clue that the so-called Mr. Windsor wasn't Victor, the guy she was supposed to meet, but Ethan.

Ethan spoke softly, "The director we met earlier is a straight shooter. This is the contract for the lead role in his new movie. He thinks you're perfect for the part. Faye, this is your shot. I promised to help you chase your dream, and I'm sticking to it. But there's one catch."

But Faye still looked super uneasy.

"What catch?"

"Cut ties with Victor."

Faye was stunned, but being the pro actress she was, she quickly pulled herself together.

"Ethan, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Ethan pulled out a cigarette and lit it, a faint smile on his face.

"Faye, how old are you, and how old am I? Those extra years I have count for something."

Faye probably never thought that just this morning, she was strutting her stuff in front of me at the villa, and now the tables had totally turned.

But the story kicked off last night.

Ethan and I were out looking for Scruffy. When it seemed like a lost cause, he parked the car by the roadside.

"Emily, I dug into what you told me about Faye. It's Victor," he said.

I'd already gotten the scoop from Faris, so I wasn't surprised.

Ethan leaned back in his seat, rubbing his temples, looking beat.

I could totally feel the sadness in his heart right then. If the investigation had just shown Faye was with some rich dude, that'd be one thing. But finding out Victor was scheming against him? That was a whole different ball game. "It's like a tree. If outside forces try to yank it out and the roots don't hold firm, it'll get pulled out easily."

He spoke slowly, each word dripping with helplessness.

I looked at him, worried. "What about you? Are your roots solid?"

Ethan looked at me, cupping my face in his hands.

"Solid."

I gave him a bitter smile. "You know, the fact that you're willing to tell me everything makes me feel the safest."

Ethan suddenly leaned over, hugged me, kissed my hair, and said hoarsely, "A woman feeling insecure is a man's fault. Babe, I was wrong."

In front of him, I always felt weak. He could always stir my heart with just a few words.

Time and again, I found myself unable to pull away from his warmth.

So, the big argument that followed was just a show.

Originally, Faye thought she was about to hit her goal, but it was ruthlessly exposed.

Ethan's tone was never harsh, but it was firm. Faye couldn't argue anymore.

Ethan flicked the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray and said steadily, "Faye, you mess up because you're young and can't resist temptation. But don't be foolish. Let's just fix this."

Bella, having pieced everything together, couldn't stay calm anymore.

"I mean, you'll sell out for money, huh? Ethan's been so good to you, and Emily kindly took you in. How can you be so ungrateful?"

Facing the accusations and pressure, Faye bit her lip in grievance and started to cry.

"Ethan, I didn't want this either. That night, after I left the TV station, they forcibly took me away. Victor wanted me to drive a wedge between you two. I initially refused, but they beat me. I was forced."

I remembered the night Ethan had sent Ivan to pick up Faye, but she wasn't there. The next morning, she did have bruises on her hands, which matched her current story.

Ethan stubbed out his cigarette, took out a card from his suit, and pushed it in front of her.

"The password's on it. Settle the account, then focus on prepping for this movie. I'll find an acting coach to teach you privately."

I blurted out, "No need. Her acting is already top-notch."

My gaze lightly fell on Faye.

The sarcasm in my words was crystal clear.

Faye pouted, looking kinda unconvinced.

Right then, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it but didn't dare to pick up.

It had to be Victor checking in since she hadn't shown up.

Ethan stared at her phone, his voice dropping even lower. "Faye, this is your last shot. If you don't listen to me this time, I'm done with you."

He really saw Faye as his responsibility.

Faye lowered her head, and after a long pause, she whispered, "Ethan, I was wrong."

Ethan suddenly grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers.

"I need to go practice driving with Emily."

I stood up with him, and Bella, giving Faye a glare, also got up to leave.

At the door, Ethan stopped and turned back. "Faye, no matter what others have promised you, whether it's money or a future, I can give you that."

Ethan held my hand tightly, walking steadily step by step.

I couldn't help but turn to look at him. His rugged and mature handsome face seemed even more charming at this moment, making him irresistible.

I knew he was my inescapable addiction.

After leaving the restaurant, Bella tactfully said she had something to do and left. I got into Ethan's car.

"It's not too late to hit the driving school now, is it?" he asked after starting the car.

I shook my head. "Not too late."

After driving for a bit, he suddenly reached over and pulled me by the neck, planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

My face flushed instantly, and he smiled, his gaze particularly gentle.

Embarrassed, I pointed ahead. "Watch the road."

Ethan let go of me, but the smile on his lips never faded.

He looked so different from the way he did when we argued last night, like a rainbow hanging in the sky after a storm, gentle and warm.

"You were really serious about our argument last night," he suddenly said.

I glanced at him; he was smiling.

I remembered the text he sent after leaving last night: [Good acting.]

I replied: [Same to you.]

Life was like a play, and a play was like life.

I said, "Actually, we both put our true feelings into it. We used that big argument to express our true thoughts, didn't we?"

Ethan looked at me. "You did?"

I nodded honestly. "Yeah, every time you care about Faye, I get upset."

Ethan smiled faintly and said, "That means you really love me."

"And you?"

I blurted out, then regretted it, fearing the question would make things awkward and that I might get an answer I didn't want to hear.

So I added, "Do you really feel exhausted being with me?"

"Living itself is exhausting. A man's job is to make his woman less tired."

Ethan's answer was slick, almost like he dodged my question.

"Do you feel tired?" he shot back at me.

I looked at the scenery whizzing by outside the window and thought for a moment. "Living itself is exhausting. But as long as someone's willing to stick by me, there's nothing to fear." Ethan raised an eyebrow and looked at me, probably not expecting me to flip his words back at him.

This was probably the difference between men and women. Men were rational, while women were more emotional.

Then he smiled, holding my hand tightly.

"I am willing."

Those three sudden words made my heart race, and the strength of his grip gave me a sense of stability.

Nobody's perfect. I couldn't expect him to be like a saint. He was human, with flaws and a temper.

"Ethan, the fact that you're willing to tell me everything makes me feel the safest."

I said this in the car last night, and I repeated it with the same seriousness at this moment.

He stared ahead, and after a long while, he suddenly asked, "Babe, how long have we been together?"

I was caught off guard.

"About six months, right?" he answered his own question.

I nodded.

He smiled and said, "It's been six months, and you still call me by my name? Doesn't it feel distant to you?"

So that was what he meant.

"Then what should I call you?"

"You decide." He tossed the question back at me.

I thought for a moment and looked at him seriously.

"Honey? Is that too cheesy?"

He suddenly laughed heartily. "Cheesy is fine. I want it to be cheesy."

I rolled my eyes, but my heart felt sweet.

He poked my waist, making me squirm from the tickle.

"Come on, call me Honey again. I like hearing it." "No."

"Just one time."

"I won't."

"Do you want me to stop the car until you do?"

I knew Ethan was planning to stop the car on the road to mess with me, and I got nervous.

"Follow the traffic rules."

"Will you call me or not?" He kept threatening me with a smile.

I blushed, the words rolling around in my throat.

"Honey, I'll call you Honey, okay?" I said softly.

The smile on his lips widened, and he sighed. "Alright, I'll let you off this time. But there will be times when you call me Honey."

I seemed to catch the deeper meaning of his words, and my cheeks instantly burned.

At the driving school, I got into Michael's car, and Ethan stood by the field, smoking.

When I came back after a lap, I saw someone standing next to him. It was Faris.