Chapter 52: An Unseen Threat

Chapter 52: An Unseen Threat

James Taylor, caught off guard by the sudden brake, lurched forward violently, nearly colliding with the seat in front of him. The documents he had been holding scattered across the floor. "Sh*t! What the hell just happened?" he growled in frustration.

The driver, still rattled, turned his head and explained breathlessly, "Boss, I'm so sorry! I didn't see the kid crouching on the road, so I had to brake suddenly. I apologize for startling you!"

Are kids these days really that careless, running around the streets without a sense of traffic rules? James Taylor frowned and asked in a flat tone, "Is the child okay?" He had no intention of wasting his time on irrelevant people or matters.

The driver nodded gratefully, "Luckily, a passerby rushed out and pulled him to safety. Otherwise, it could have been a disaster."

Rushing out to save someone in such a dangerous situation—was that person crazy? Suddenly curious about the identity of this brave individual, James Taylor casually rolled down the window beside him. It didn't take long for him to spot a figure in light green among the crowd.

From a distance, her petite frame seemed to radiate a surprising amount of courage and strength. Even though there was a noticeable distance between them, he could clearly see the scars on her arms, yet she seemed entirely unconcerned with them as she focused on comforting the frightened little boy in her arms. What captivated him even more was the warm smile on her face as she softly reassured the boy, and the refreshing, soothing aura that seemed to emanate from her.

Refreshing? James Taylor blinked, puzzled by why that word had come to mind. But there was something about her—like a faint, delicate fragrance in a quiet valley, despite her rather plain appearance. As he lingered in his thoughts, the woman unexpectedly approached his car. He looked at her, finally getting a clear view of her face.

There was no denying that from an aesthetic standpoint, her appearance was quite ordinary. However, her clear eyes sparkled with a vibrant, lively energy, and the smile on her lips was as fresh and charming as leaves bathed in sunlight—natural and unpretentious.

Facing the stern, distant-looking middle-aged man in the back seat, Lydia Moore smiled gently and said, "Sir, I hope you'll avoid speeding in the future. This is a residential area, and driving too fast could easily cause an accident." Her tone was sincere but carried an undeniable seriousness.

The scene had nearly scared her to death, and she could still feel her heart pounding in her chest. Fortunately, her high school track days had paid off, allowing her to react in time to prevent a tragedy. But she couldn't always be there at the right moment; it was crucial for drivers to be conscious of their speed.

"Are you blaming me? Because from where I stand, that kid shouldn't have been running into the street in the first place," James Taylor retorted, his tone leaving no room for argument. A moment ago, he had admired her courage and pure, natural demeanor, but that didn't mean he would tolerate being lectured by a young woman who clearly didn't understand the world yet.

Lydia Moore, unfazed by his response, simply smiled and continued, "I'm not blaming you, sir. It's just that life only happens once; there are no do-overs. There's no need to risk someone else's life, or your own, just to save a few minutes. After all, life is the most precious thing anyone has." With that, she gave a polite bow and turned to leave.

James Taylor sat in thoughtful silence for a moment before glancing back at her retreating figure in the rearview mirror. The soft, golden sunlight bathed her in a warm glow, making her seem almost angelic.

"Life only happens once?" James Taylor mused over her words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The black car slowly resumed its journey down the quiet road, though this time at a much more cautious speed. The rustling autumn leaves danced in the fresh, crisp air.

Delar, a renowned international brand specializing in cosmetics, bags, and clothing, is adored by the world's elite for its unparalleled design and top-tier quality. In another sense, owning Delar products is a symbol of taste and wealth. As one of the world's leading brands, Delar spares no expense in its marketing, with every poster and advertisement meticulously crafted by masters and flawlessly portrayed by top-tier celebrities.

This winter, Delar was set to launch its flagship "Breeze" perfume line, for which they had enlisted the company's chief producer and a famous director for the magazine and commercial shoots. To keep up with the brand's traditional elegance while also incorporating fresh, trendy elements, they had boldly chosen rising star Aaron King and advertising sensation Bella Rose.

When Lydia Moore first heard from Andrew King that Aaron King had been selected as the male lead for Delar's seasonal perfume ad, she was so excited she could hardly sleep for days. From the moment Delar was created, its exorbitant prices had been as famous as its quality, making ownership of any Delar product a distant dream for her. The idea that she would have a chance to participate in a Delar shoot seemed like something out of a fantasy. Adding to her excitement was the news that Bella Rose, the "Barbie Princess" seen everywhere on television and billboards, would be the female lead.

In her eager anticipation, Lydia Moore arrived at the designated studio early. After helping the crew with the pre-shoot preparations, the clock struck nine, and the dashing and relaxed Aaron King, along with the even-more-doll-like-than-a-doll Bella Rose, entered the studio. The entire crew's attention immediately turned to the stunning pair, their work coming to a standstill as they stared in awe.

"She's even more beautiful in person," Lydia Moore whispered, unable to take her eyes off Bella Rose, who was chatting intimately with Aaron King. Her eyes were like the brightest black crystals, free of any darkness or sorrow, filled only with pure, unblemished beauty.

With her clear pupils, long, curled eyelashes, delicate white skin, and waist-length black curls, Bella Rose looked like a fragile, beautiful Barbie doll. Anyone standing next to her seemed mundane in comparison.

As Lydia Moore gazed at Bella Rose, a silly smile plastered on her face, Aaron King barked, "What are you standing there for, blocking the way, you idiot?" He reached out, intending to give her a customary flick on the head, but noticed the bandage on her left arm just in time.

Quick as lightning, Aaron King grabbed her arm and demanded angrily, "How did you get hurt? Are you an idiot?" His tone was fierce, and he looked ready to storm, but beneath the harsh words was a thick layer of concern.