02."JUST STAY AWAY..."

ISABELLE NASH

With my heart still pounding, I gulp down the remaining drink in my glass, feeling the liquid slide down my throat and warm my body. My eyes, filled with curiosity and unease, dart towards the door where the mysterious man disappeared. However, before I can formulate any thoughts, I spot the familiar figure of Simon approaching quickly, his gaze filled with concern.

He strides over in long steps, his expression showing a mix of anxiety and relief at finding me.

"Belle, are you okay?" His voice sounds close and concerned as he stops beside me and scrutinizes me.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I smile slightly, my eyes lingering on where the man disappeared. "Who was that man?" My question, laced with a hint of fascination, comes out automatically because of how my body reacted to the man whose name I still don't know.

Upon seeing my smile, Simon seems to ease up, but his expression remains worried when I inquire about the man.

"I suggest you stay away from him, Belle," he responds, furrowing his brow slightly. "I saw him coming towards you, and just as I was about to call out to you, a friend called me over, so I..."

I hold up my hand to silence Simon, interrupting his speech. He looks at my hand before returning his gaze to my face.

"Don't give me this talk about staying away from him; he didn't do anything to me. We just briefly talked; I don't like it when you try to meddle in my life, Simon." My reaction surprises Simon, but there's also a hint of frustration.

"Belle, I'm just worried about you. That guy... he's not trustworthy. I know you're independent, but sometimes it's good to hear advice from someone who cares about you." He tilts his head as if pondering his words before looking directly at me.

"I just want what's best for you, Belle. Please, stay away from him." Simon seems to be pleading for me to keep my distance from the man. But will I be able to do that until the end of the party?

I look into Simon's eyes, noticing his genuine concern. His pleas echo in my mind, making me question my own decisions. However, a part of me feels drawn to the mysterious figure I just met, arousing a curiosity I can't ignore.

"I'm sorry, Simon," I respond sincerely, touching his shoulder. "I understand your concern, but I need to learn more about him before jumping to conclusions. I promise I'll be careful." I kiss his cheek, wiping off the lipstick mark afterward.

Simon released a breath that seemed to have been held for a long time, gripped my hand, and led me out of the room.

As Simon and I return to the banquet hall, I am grateful for his glass of wine and seek brief comfort in his kind gesture. However, my mind continues to whirl around the encounter with the mysterious man, his whispered words still echoing in my ears.

When Simon takes my hand and raises it to his lips, a comforting warmth spreads over me, even amid the tension that seems to hang in the air. His intense gaze pierces mine, conveying a mixture of concern and affection, and his lips gently touch my skin in a lingering kiss between my fingers.

"First and foremost, I want you to know that he's a dangerous person," he begins, his voice serious. "Men like him are not to be trifled with, and I think even less so to fall in love, Belle. He has a dark past, and Mrs. Wistorn helped him as if she were a mother. So please, think about what I've asked you, alright?"

I feel a lump forming in my throat as I look at Simon, absorbing his words with seriousness. The gleam in his eyes reveals the depth of his concern, and I know his words are not spoken lightly. Nodding silently, I promise myself to be careful, even though my curiosity insists on leading me down paths that may not be right.

With a sigh, I try to ignore the man's thoughts and focus on the present moment. I observe the banquet hall, where guests chat animatedly, oblivious to the tension that has just occurred. Meanwhile, Mrs. Wistorn's gentle voice echoes through the room, indicating that the speech is about to begin.

Then, as I turn to return my attention to the event, I feel an impact on my shoulder. Surprised, I look up and find myself face to face with Evelyn, Simon's fiancée, who stares at me with a disdainful look. Her lips curve into a sarcastic smile as she begins to speak loud enough for everyone to hear, interrupting Mrs. Wistorn's speech.

"Look who decided to leave her mediocre little world to join us!" She says, her voice dripping with disdain, as the eyes of the other guests turn towards us, curious about what's happening.

I feel a flush of shame rise to my cheeks, and for a moment, I find myself speechless in the face of public humiliation. Simon's gaze hardens beside me, his expression betraying anger and discomfort at the situation.

"Don't start, Evelyn," Simon grits through clenched teeth, trying to defend me without drawing more attention.

Evelyn loses even more control when she notices the red wine staining her white silk-like dress. Her eyes flash with fury as she looks at the dark liquid marking her pristine attire.

"You did that on purpose, you clumsy oaf!" She yells, pointing an accusing finger in my direction. Her voice resonates through the hall, attracting curious glances and murmurs among the guests.

My muscles tense, and I try to control the urge to retaliate verbally. Simon's hand grips mine firmly, a silent gesture of support that gives me the strength to remain calm in the situation.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident," I say firmly, with a slight tremor of nervousness. Although I didn't intentionally spill the wine, Evelyn's accusation makes me question my intentions.

As the guests watch the scene with interest, the banquet's atmosphere becomes tense and charged with hostility.

"What are you doing with my fiancé? Haven't I told you to stay away from him, you wretch?" Evelyn's voice cuts through the air, dripping with contempt and anger, echoing off the hall's walls. Her disdainful gaze burns like fire as she approaches, her posture rigid and threatening.

I feel cornered, surrounded by the situation's hostility. My eyes meet Simon's, seeking any sign of support or guidance. He seems tense, reflecting concern and discomfort in the face of his fiancée's outburst.

"Don't start, Evelyn. Isabelle didn't do anything wrong," Simon's voice is firm but restrained, and his attempt to defuse the situation is evident. However, his words seem only to fuel Evelyn's fury.

"Don't you dare defend her, Simon? You know very well what this tramp is capable of," she hisses, her words dripping with venom. The defiant glare she shoots at me is like a sharp knife cutting through me to the core.

I lower my gaze, feeling awful about Evelyn's behavior. I lean on Simon's arm for support, feeling the weight of my body threatened to collapse.

"Miss Turner, I kindly ask you to cease this behavior immediately." Mrs. Wistorn's firm voice, echoing through the hall with authority, interrupts the turmoil caused by Evelyn. Her eyes, as cold as the diamond adorning her neck, fix sternly on Evelyn, conveying a clear message of disapproval.

Evelyn seems momentarily surprised by the intervention, her defiant gaze faltering in the face of the hostess's authority. An expression of indignation crosses her face, but she remains silent and takes a few steps back.

I slowly lift my gaze, meeting Mrs. Wistorn's eyes, admiring her determined posture and firmness in the face of the situation. Her intervention temporarily relieves the tension in the hall, and I feel grateful.

Mrs. Wistorn descends the steps of the elegantly set stage, removes her mask, and hands it to her butler on a tray.

"I would like to know if your parents did not give you the necessary education to behave in front of so many people," Mrs. Wistorn gestures with her hands toward the guests. "This is not how one behaves at my parties, Miss Turner. Especially not in front of your fiancé, isn't that right, Simon Shen?"

Simon nods, standing by my side with his chin held high.

"Miss Turner, this kind of behavior is unacceptable in any setting, let alone an occasion like this," Mrs. Wistorn's firm voice echoes through the hall, cutting through the tense silence.

Evelyn seemed to swallow hard; her eyes widened in shock at the public reprimand. "But... but I..." she stammers, clearly at a loss for words to defend herself.

"There are no excuses for what you did," Mrs. Wistorn continues, her voice allowing no arguments. "You are a guest at my party, and I expect you to behave according to the standard of respect and courtesy expected of all present."

Simon squeezes my hand firmly, his expression tense as he watches the scene unfold. "Belle, I hope this hasn't ruined your night," he murmurs, his concerned eyes meeting mine.

"Don't worry, Simon. I think I've seen enough for today," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

I reach for my mask, wanting to rip it off my face. But I feel a delicate touch on my arm, drawing closer to me; with a gentle smile, I see Mrs. Wistorn's figure before me.

"Don't take it off, dear. Even though I know everyone here, I still want to find out who you are. I apologize for Miss Turner's outburst; when it comes to this handsome young man, she can be the worst of vipers."

I smile at Mrs. Wistorn's comforting words, momentarily forgetting what happened.

"It's okay; I'm used to her acting like this. For some reason, she feels threatened by me and thinks I'm going to take Simon away from her," I chuckle softly, with a hint of irony.

Mrs. Wistorn nods understandingly, her gaze conveying empathy in the situation.

"Unfortunately, sometimes people let jealousy and insecurity dictate their behavior," she replies, gentle and reassuring. "But don't worry, dear. You are welcome here, and there is no room for such unpleasant behavior."

She gestures towards Evelyn, and soon, two security guards approach, politely asking her to leave the party. She thinks about yelling again. But her eyes fixate on Mrs. Wistorn, a heavy breath escaping her lungs. Evelyn is holding herself back, as I've never seen happen in the year she has been engaged to Simon.