A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

“Stalking someone to their studio, huh…” Mason chuckled as he watched Yvan pull up in his car, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, if you need a hand, I can help you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Yvan shot Mason a look in the rear–view mirror, those devilish, flirtatious eyes sparkling with mischief.

When he wasn’t smiling, he was the epitome of cool, seductive charm, but with a smile, he was irresistible. It was no wonder Ashton City’s ladies were drawn to him like moths to a

flame–Yvan was a catch if there ever was one.

Seeing Yvan’s grin, Mason smirked back. “You know exactly what I mean.

“She’s probably not going to accept it.” Yvan mulled it over as he watched Matilda disappear into her studio. Then, he parked the car by the curb. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Mason in the backseat before saying, “I need a good reason… something solid to make her warm up to the idea.”

“That’s easy.” Mason’s voice carried a hint of intrigue. “Just let me take the lead.”

Yvan shot him a wary look. “I don’t trust you, man.”

Mason laughed heartily. “And why not? I’ve always been…” NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

“Been what?” Yvan glared at him fiercely. “If you even think about messing with Matilda, you’re

dead meat.”

“Oh, come on.” Mason chuckled as if Yvan had just told the funniest joke. “There you go. clinging on even after the divorce. But hey, what if she falls for me? I can’t help that.”

Yvan gritted his teeth, “She’s off–limits to everyone else, even after the divorce. Get that through your head!”

Both men smoked in silence, tossing their cigarette butts into the car’s trash can before taking a deep breath.

Mason straightened his collar and announced, “Well, I’m off then.”

“Just be careful,” Yvan called after him.

Mason narrowed his eyes knowingly. “Always am.”

When Mason stepped into Matilda’s studio, both Gideon and Matilda were taken aback.

Matilda was hunched over her drafting table, wearing a pair of glasses that made her look. studious and gentle. Her hair fell softly around her face as she worked.

Mason couldn’t help but wonder: Could someone as peaceful as her really be capable of something as violent as murder?

The incident five years ago… Did someone frame her?

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Gideon recognized Mason immediately and greeted him. “Mr. Farrell, what brings you here today?”

“I’m here to see you guys.” Mason’s voice was calm and collected as he smiled at a surprised Matilda. “Ms. Thompson, we meet again.”

“Mr. Farrell.” Matilda tidied up her drafts and poured him a cup of coffee. “The studio’s humble. but make yourself at home.”

“No, the décor is quite nice, actually.”

Mason tasted the coffee and immediately appreciated the drip brew method, a sign of someone who enjoyed taking their time with things.

He surveyed the studio, noting its creative flair and beautiful spatial design.

Matilda’s workstation was an impressive semicircle that curved into a tri–screen computer setup, surrounded by stacks of ongoing projects.

Settling into a round couch, Mason crossed his legs and smiled at Matilda. Ms. Thompson, you weren’t entirely truthful last time, were you?”

Matilda tensed up but feigned ignorance. “Mr. Farrell, what exactly brings you here today?”

“We need your help, Dawn.”

Mason set his cup down gently on the coffee table and turned to Gideon, who still seemed puzzled. “Last time, you denied that Dawn was your stage name. I get why you did it, but Me Thompson, we really want you involved in our new line’s design. That’s why I’m here today. hoping you’ll give us the chance to collaborate.”

His words were firm but fair.

Matilda pressed her lips together, and Gideon finally regained his composure. “You want my sister to be part of the design team?”

Mason nodded. “The company is launching a new bridal collection next scring.”

Matilda’s fingers twitched involuntarily as Gideon responded, “We’re flattered. Mr. Farrell, but I’m afraid you’ve made the trip for nothing. My sister… she’s done designing wedding dresses Mason looked taken aback, not expecting such a response. “Why?” he asked impulsively. Matilda lifted her gaze, her eyes deep pools, reflecting a storm of emotions before she socke “I’ve lost all faith in love, so wedding dresses… I just can’t design them anymore.”

The kind of wedding dresses that once symbolized happiness, that bore witness to love’s blossoming– those were now shattered pieces in her heart, beyond recair.

A brutal, failed romance had robbed her of the ability to feel joy.

Mason was visibly shocked, his mouth opening as if to protest, but he swallowed his words..

After a long silence, he said softly. “I understand. But Ms. Thompson, I still hope you’ll consider it. Even if you’ve been hurt in the past, you should let some sunlight in on those wounds. Your talent is yours alone, and nobody can destroy that. I believe in you.”