The car merged smoothly into traffic.

Theodore, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the window ledge, glanced in the rearview mirror, “How’s the kid working under you?” “She’s got potential,” Phoebe muttered, her eyes glued to her phone without looking up.

Theodore pursed his lips, feeling a tinge of irritation. Ever since he had transferred Phoebe to QUEEN Entertainment, she had grown wings, as if he no longer mattered to her. “As the director of talent, you’re not an agent. There’s no need for you to run errands,” Theodore pointed out.

At the mention of this, Phoebe glanced at Vanessa and said, “I’ve been talking to a top-notch agent lately, and if I can get her on board, I want her to handle Miss Fitzroy.”

Theodore frowned. “Didn’t I ask you to keep an eye on Vanessa for the time being?”

Phoebe inwardly scoffed. He insisted on pairing her with Vanessa-was he trying to pit them against each other?

“What does Miss Fitzroy think?”

Vanessa turned towards them, her eyes innocently shifting between the two, and said, “I’m fine either way; I’ll follow the company’s decision.”

Phoebe looked at her with mocking eyes. She acted so pure, but who didn’t know the beast lurking beneath that sheepskin?

“Marry has mentored plenty of A-listers; her experience is invaluable. If Miss Fitzroy wants to shine in the entertainment industry, Marry is the best choice,” Phoebe proclaimed. Her words were meant to remind Vanessa that following her might not promise a bright future.

Of course, if Vanessa preferred to take risks over her career to bother her, that was a different story.

But clearly, Vanessa wasn’t blinded by love. She had her own plans, ones she had no intention of sharing with Phoebe.

“I trust Miss Ziegler’s judgment,” Vanessa declared.

Theodore fell silent just as Vanessa reached out and playfully tugged at his sleeve, “Theodore, don’t be mad. Miss Ziegler is so busy, handing me over to Marry is for my best interest.” Theodore’s expression softened, “As long as you don’t feel slighted, that’s what matters.”

“Why would I feel slighted? I’ve heard about Marry abroad; she’s propelled many artists to stardom. For Miss Ziegler to get her to manage me must have taken quite an effort,” Vanessa commented.

“That’s her job,” Theodore said before glancing at the rearview mirror and noticing Phoebe still on her phone, prompting him to purse his lips in displeasure.

Phoebe was scrolling through her social feed and inadvertently stumbled upon Vanessa’s update from roughly 20 minutes ago, a photo accompanied by the caption: “Such beautiful hands should be playing the piano, such a waste otherwise.” The picture was clearly taken from the passenger side, featuring only a hand and the steering wheel it was Theodore’s hand, identifiable by the distinguished fingers resting on the wheel.

As if possessed, Phoebe clicked on Vanessa’s profile and was quickly drawn into a stream of recent posts. Vanessa had been updating her feed consistently-an average of more than two posts each day since the day they had both fallen into the water.

[He came to see me today and brought my favorite chicken soup. He still remembers after all this time. An image of an open thermos revealed the shimmering broth.]

[He brought me flowers, he still remembers which ones are my favorites after all these years. Everything feels unchanged, as if time stood still. A picture of a bouquet of red roses accompanied the post.]