Chapter 4

Anyone can talk sweet, but once she's safe, Diana will ditch Michael faster than you can blink.

Emerald City was huge; Diana figures she'll never bump into him again.

Michael asked, "You promise?"

Diana nodded. "Of course. Please, spare us. We won't do it again, we swear."

Michael's clothes were immaculate, not a single hair out of place, while the guys on the ground were a mess, bruised and battered.

Owen didn't dare utter a word, just knelt and kept bowing.

It wasn't that he couldn't talk; Michael had dislocated his jaw.

Who would've thought that Diana, that lucky woman, would catch Michael's eye?

Feeling safe, Diana raised her voice, "Michael, thanks for saving me. Goodbye forever."

Then, she bolted.

The night was dark and windy.

Michael raised an eyebrow, his deep eyes tracking her retreating figure, a smirk playing on his lips.

The driver approached and asked quietly, "Mr. Johnson, should we go after her?"

"No need."

Michael glanced at the bag on the ground, a sly grin spreading. "Diana, I'll wait for you to come to me."

After running away, Diana quickly called a ride. Only after getting in the car did she breathe a sigh of relief, fearing someone might chase her.

But when she got home, she realized her bag was missing. Regret washed over her.

Her bank cards, driver's license, everything was in that bag. And the jewelry design she needed for a client meeting tomorrow!

This was her studio's first big order!

Diana collapsed onto her bed, rubbing her throbbing temples, thinking hard. She remembered having the bag when she left Nora's place. Her eyes snapped open.

Could it be in Michael's hands?

That would be a disaster! She'd be digging her own grave!

Gritting her teeth, Diana decided to go to the club and find Michael the next day.

At worst, she'd apologize. He couldn't be that petty.

Early the next morning, Diana went to the club to look for him.

The staff said they had no gigolo named Michael.

Diana was puzzled but patiently waited in the club.

She didn't find him, but got a phone call.

"Is this Ms. Garcia?"

"Yes, and you are…?"

"I'm the manager at Heart Language Wedding Shop. You took our wedding dress without paying. It's worth $120,000. Can you come to settle the bill today, or return the dress?"

Diana's eyes widened, feeling like she'd been struck by lightning.

Return it?

The dress had been torn to shreds by Michael. No way to return it.

But $120,000?

She couldn't sell herself for that much!

"If you don't pay…" The manager's voice turned cold. "We'll sue you."

Diana sighed. "I understand. Can you give me a few days?"

"Three days at most."

After hanging up, Diana felt utterly defeated.

All her money had gone into Beyond Jewel Studio. She only had $2,000 left for living expenses. Not a penny more.

And now, her design was missing too.

When it rains, it pours.

Diana asked the staff again, "Are you sure you don't have a gigolo named Michael? I saw him last night."

The staff gave her a strange look, almost envious. "He told you to wait here."

Diana had no choice but to wait.

She waited until evening.

Biting her lip, she resisted the urge to curse.

This Michael was definitely doing this on purpose!

So petty!

The club got busier and livelier. A staff member handed Diana a room key.

She stared at the key, torn between running and going in.

Ten minutes later.

Michael stood by the dark floor-to-ceiling window, the light casting him like a deity.

He looked at Diana, standing a few steps away, not speaking, just watching her intently.

Diana felt like she was the customer, and Michael was just a gigolo. She shouldn't feel uneasy, but she did.

For the first time, she doubted Michael's identity.

Biting her lip, she cleared her throat, not mentioning last night. "Mr. Johnson, I'm here for my bag. Thanks for keeping it safe."

"What bag?"

Michael denied it outright.

Diana was stunned, her lips twitching.

Just as she was about to get angry, Michael spoke again. "There is a bag, but I don't know if it's yours."

Diana choked, coughing on her own spit. She didn't believe he hadn't checked it.

"It's a shoulder bag with my driver's license, bank cards, and some cash."

Michael took the bag from the cabinet and handed it to her.

Diana eagerly took it, checking to make sure the design was still there. She sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson."

This time, Diana was genuinely grateful.

If someone else had found the bag, it might not have been intact.

Michael raised an eyebrow. "How do you plan to thank me?"

Diana looked at him, a playful smile in her eyes. She took out $300 and placed it in front of him. "Consider this your reward. For returning lost items, this is the usual reward."

Michael's face darkened.

He was frustrated, unsure if Diana was doing this on purpose.

"Take your money back. I don't want it."

"Buy me dinner instead."

Michael had to take the initiative.

Diana was surprised, remembering her words from last night. Her expression became strange.

"No, I'll just give you the money."

Michael frowned, repeating patiently, "I don't want money. Buy me dinner!"

"Just take the money. I'll give you another $200."

Diana firmly left the money and ran off.

Michael looked at the $500 on the table, his brow twitching, laughing in frustration.

She really treated him like a gigolo.

Diana hurried home.

The next day, just as she sat down at her studio, Nora called her to the office.

"Diana, hand your design to someone else. I have a big job for you."

Diana's eyes lit up. "What big job?"