Evan smiles slightly. Suddenly and mischievously, he loosens his hold on her. Terrified by the thought of a sudden fall, she instinctively throws her arms around his neck. He smiles again and effortlessly tightens his grasp. She realizes she's been tricked into a false display of affection.

In everyone's eyes, they seem like a happy and affectionate couple. Only she knows what a sham it all is.

"He may seem nice and thoughtful, but he's far too arrogant and selfish," Avery thinks bitterly, "If he's in a good mood, he'll play with you as if you're a dog. But when things don't go his way, he won't even look at you."

A black limousine is parked at the main entrance to the building. A chauffeur opens the door, and Evan carries Avery inside. Inside, the car is luxurious—almost comparable to a top hotel, complete with every possible upgrade. Evan keeps his arms around Avery and pulls her onto his lap.

"It's only the two of us now," she says, "Can you let go of me?"

"What? You don't like it?" Evan says, wrapping his arms around her waist more firmly.

"No, I don't. I feel too hot," she complains.

"Turn up the air conditioning," Evan orders the driver.

The rear seat is separated from the driver by a retractable wall. Evan uses a built-in walkie-talkie to communicate. The fans whir and Evan addresses Robert through the walkie-talkie.

"Any news on her phone?"

"The phone has been sent to the IT Department. As for the photos—" Robert pauses for a moment before continuing, "The IT Department said that the photos will be recovered as soon as possible. However, Mrs. Howel completely wiped them from everything, and it will take a while to recover them all. They say they'll need between ten and fifteen days."

"Between ten and fifteen days?" Evan says coldly, "I need to know the exact time."

"Um, hopefully, ten days," Robert says nervously.

Avery rolls her eyes. The IT Department at the Howel Group has some of the smartest computer programmers in the world. They could probably destroy the entire financial structure of the world and rebuild a new one if they wanted. Why do they need ten to fifteen days to recover 72 photos? She knows she's powerless to argue with Evan; if the IT Department says they need ten to fifteen days, she'll have to wait that long to get her phone back.

"Tell them to leave my phone alone," Avery says unhappily.

"They say the phone's SIM card has been destroyed and many apps can't be opened without it. Mrs. Howel, please calm down. They're only doing what Mr. Howel has asked."

"She's really private and she's afraid of strangers looking at her phone," Evan says into the walkie-talkie.

He pinches her chin and turns her head towards him, forcing her to look at him.

"I said that I don't like people touching my things," she says.

"Well, they need time to recover the photos," he says.

"Fortunately, the SIM card is gone and with it most of my messages," Avery thinks, "I hope the messages to Charles are gone, too. Even if they eventually recover them, I have time before Evan sees everything."

"Remember our deal," Evan says, "I'd like to see you taking some photos."

"Not right now," she smiles slyly.

"Why not?" he asks angrily.

"We agreed that I'd replace the photos I'd taken of you, but all of them were taken secretly. I can't take photos of you looking and smiling at the camera—they look too forced. It looks more natural if the photos are candid."

"Really?"

"Of course," she says, "You want the public to think that our marriage is sweet and happy, right? If I post candid photos of you, the media will report it and everyone will say that I love you so much that I can't help but snap pictures. Isn't that what you want?"

She knows that Evan's public image is important to him. Even though he doesn't like her, he wants his marriage to look loyal and devoted to the press. Her words make him happy.

"It makes sense," Evan stares at her meaningfully.

"Why is she cooperating?" he wonders.

She's wearing her hair pulled back in a ponytail, revealing her smooth forehead. Little tendrils of hair wisp around her temples and neck. Even in a simple t-shirt and wide-leg pants, she looks charming and unpredictable. Though her posture isn't remotely sexual or seductive, it's enough to make him stare.

"Damn it!" he thinks, "It's so hard to control myself around her."

If they weren't already at the restaurant watching the chauffeur open the door, he would make love with her right there in the backseat. He kisses her earlobe and watches her scowl.

"Ah, so now the cat shows her claws again," he thinks with amusement.

He gets out of the car with a slight smile and walks toward the restaurant. As soon as he lets her go, Avery breathes a sigh of relief and slouches against the seat. Evan stares at her through the car door and she wonders if he really sees through all her lies. Reluctantly, she climbs out of the car.

The Zuri Hotel looks like a castle perched atop Sun Mountain. It's the most luxurious hotel in the city, and it's accessible only by the mountain highway. From every room of the hotel, guests have a breathtaking view of the city.

Avery was so focused on Evan, she didn't pay attention to where the car was taking them. She looks at the hotel and sighs—escaping from the mountains is more difficult than escaping in the busy city below.

She walks to the hotel and down a long, luxurious corridor. The restaurant is on the right side of the first floor and a table has been prepared with a view of the entire city below. Beyond the window, the white clouds seem within arm's reach.

Followed by bodyguards, she holds the phone in an exaggerated manner. She points the camera at Evan, who is already sitting across the room. The most beautiful scene appears on her screen: Evan sitting lazily at the table with the entire city spread out behind him. He holds a glass of red wine, and even his hands look elegant wrapped around the stem. Without even posing, the man looks like a painting.

"He is indeed handsome," Avery admits to herself, "No wonder so many women are so enamored with him even though he's married."

There's no one else in the restaurant, and the waiters keep a respectful distance from Evan's table. If Evan signals, they can approach the table to serve.

Avery is about to take the photo when her phone rings. A Facebook message appears on the screen. She tries to dismiss the notification but opens the message instead. The message shows a screenshot of another conversation, one between Leonie and Evan: "It's my honor to be your friend on Facebook!!!"

Avery knows that Evan never adds other people to his Facebook unless he has a specific reason, but now he's added, Leonie Summer. The exclamation marks reveal her surprise and joy.

Avery studies the screenshot. It looks like Leonie and Evan continued their conversation, but the photo has been cropped so Avery can't tell what they discussed.

"Probably the apology," Avery thinks, "Or maybe her sister. Who knows and who cares?"

Avery smiles bitterly to herself. Evan wanted her to take photos of him to try to legitimize their relationship, but he's careless enough to message Leonie Summers on Facebook.

After Leonie wrote the apology post, Evan immediately added her as a Facebook friend. As soon as she accepted his request, Leonie took a screenshot of their conversation and sent it to Avery to taunt her.

"I don't want to do this stupid thing anyway," she thinks, "Especially if he insists on making a mess like this."

She puts the phone into her pocket without taking a single photo.

Several waitresses pass through the hall and give Avery suspicious looks. She can hear them whispering to each other in the silence of the hall.

"I need to go to the restroom," she says coldly, glancing at the two bodyguards following her.

"Mr. Howel has asked us to follow you," one replies.

Avery didn't expect it to be easy to get away from them; they always follow her without her permission.

Meanwhile, a uniformed waiter rushes to the door of the elevator and hurriedly ascends to the 18th floor of the hotel. He knocks on the Hotel Manager's door.

"Manager Ling, we just saw a woman in the hall near the restaurant taking photos of our guests," he says in a rush.

"Send security to catch her and delete the photos on her phone," he answers, "Why do you bother me with such a trivial issue?"

"Well, the woman has two bodyguards with her, and she claims to be Mrs. Howel."