Chapter 6

So I lived exactly the way Harold wanted me to live. And then I died.

This time, I wanted to live for myself.

"I'm in," I said.

Stuart held his hand out to me with a smile. "Looking forward to working with you."

I shook his hand. "Me too."

By the time I left the studio, the sky was already getting dark.

I walked through the alleyway, feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

My phone buzzed a few times. It was a message from the Bailey family's butler. [Miss Barnes, there is a family dinner tonight. Mr. Bruno Bailey asked you to come home.]

Before everything restarted, family dinners at the Bailey family house were the thing I feared most. Every dinner felt like a battlefield.

Angela always showed up. She always found ways to embarrass me. Harold always watched coldly from the side. And everyone else treated me like a joke.

But today, I wasn't afraid anymore.

After I got back to the Bailey family house, I changed into a simple black dress, let my hair down, and stood in front of the mirror.

The woman staring back at me looked calm. There was even a faint smile on her lips.

It was not the careful, people-pleasing smile I used to wear all the time. This smile came from relief.

When I walked into the dining room, everyone was already there.

Bruno sat at the head of the table. Harold sat on his left. Angela sat beside Harold.

The moment Angela saw me, she immediately put on her usual soft smile. "Julia, you're here. Come sit down."

She pointed toward the very last seat at the table.

It was the least important seat, and even the servers usually skipped over it first.

I said nothing and quietly sat down.

"Julia, how did the interview go today?" Bruno asked.

"Not great," I replied.

"What happened?" Harold suddenly asked.

I looked up at him. He held a wine glass loosely in one hand while staring at me calmly.

"It just wasn't a good fit," I said.

"Which company?" Harold pressed.

"Glisson Group," I replied.

The second those words left my mouth, the atmosphere at the table subtly changed.

Angela gently put down her fork and looked surprised. "Julia, you interviewed at the Glisson Group, huh? Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped put in a good word for you."

Her voice sounded caring, but I understood exactly what she meant. She was trying to hint to Harold that I claimed I didn't want help from the Bailey family, yet I secretly went to her family's company anyway.

"No need," I said calmly. "It didn't work out anyway."

Bruno frowned. "Why didn't the Glisson Group hire you?"

I glanced at Angela.

She smiled back at me, but there was a warning in her eyes.

"They said my background wasn't suitable," I answered.

Bruno's expression darkened immediately. "Background wasn't suitable? You're the Bailey family's goddaughter. How could that not be suitable?"

Angela quickly cut in with a soft laugh, "Bruno, there was probably just some misunderstanding. I'll ask about it later for Julia."

"No need," I said. "I already found work."

"What kind of job?" Harold asked.

"I joined an independent jewelry studio as a partner," I replied.

Harold frowned slightly. "Partner? Whose studio?"

"Stuart's," I replied.

The second I said his name, Harold's expression changed.

It wasn't obvious, but I noticed it clearly. His eyes widened slightly, and the hand holding the wine glass tightened for just a second.

"Stuart?" Angela looked shocked. "You mean the youngest son of the Windrow family?"

"You know him?" Bruno asked.

"I met him when I was younger." Angela smiled lightly, but there was obvious disdain in her voice. "I heard he opened a studio in Lusten City. He's pretty average."

I sneered inside.

Stuart's studio had won several major international awards, yet in her mouth, he became pretty average.

Harold slowly set his wine glass down. His voice turned cold. "Julia, are you sure you want to work with Stuart?"

"I'm sure," I answered with a nod.

"Do you know what kind of person he is?" Harold pressed.

"A talented designer," I replied.

Harold stared at me for several seconds before suddenly smiling. The smile sent a chill down my back.

"If that's what you want," he said quietly.

The rest of dinner continued in a strange atmosphere. Angela kept placing food onto Harold's plate, and Harold never stopped her. The two of them looked close and affectionate.

Some of the women at the table whispered quietly among themselves. They were basically saying I didn't know what was good for me. They thought I was stupid for giving up the chance to become Mrs. Bailey just to work as a designer.

I acted like I couldn't hear any of it.

After dinner, I went into the kitchen to help the maids clean up the dishes.

"Miss Barnes, you really don't need to do this," the maid, Paige Hansen, said sympathetically.

"It's okay." I smiled lightly. "I was bored anyway."

I was washing dishes when I suddenly heard footsteps behind me.

It was Harold. He leaned against the kitchen doorway, holding a glass of red wine while staring at me quietly.

"Julia, what exactly are you trying to do?" he asked.

I didn't even look up. "Wash dishes."

"You know that's not what I mean," he said.

I turned off the faucet, dried my hands, and looked at him. "Mr. Harold Bailey, then just say what you actually want to ask."