The day after the attack, Phyllis awoke to an ache in every bone, but a deeper pain resonated in her heart. John's whispered "Yaya" last night had been like a lightning bolt, cleaving through the fog in her mind, offering a fleeting glimpse of hope. But then, he had reverted to the cold Mr. Zhuo, and that hope was brutally extinguished. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind replayed John's furious eyes and the trembling of his body as he held her tightly. 'How much did he remember?' she wondered. 'Or was it just a subconscious reaction?' A raw, clawing ache settled in her chest, a constant reminder of the chasm between John's instinctive protection and his icy detachment. The warmth of his instinctive protection and the coldness of his rational push-back, these two extreme sensations pulled at her, making it impossible to find peace. She even began to question if she was being too hasty, if she shouldn't touch those memories that might cause him pain. But at the thought of the truth from five years ago, that hesitation was immediately replaced by resolute determination.
Before she could ponder further, Kevin knocked and entered. He still wore his expressionless facade, holding a new security protocol. 'Miss Phyllis, Mr. Zhuo has instructed that your security level be elevated to the highest.' Kevin's voice was icy, sending a shiver down Phyllis's spine. From today on, her apartment was guarded by four fully armed bodyguards, working 24-hour shifts, an impenetrable fortress. Her travel routes were strictly planned; every outing required at least two escort vehicles, their windows fitted with bulletproof film, making it more elaborate than a head of state's procession. Her phone and computer were replaced with Yarfi Group's specially encrypted devices, ostensibly for security, but Phyllis knew it was more for surveillance. She even discovered that the smart home system in her apartment had been taken over by Kevin's people; her every move was likely within John's grasp.
Now, she truly felt like a bird caged, albeit in gold. Her former freedom to investigate had vanished; every step was monitored. If she went to the restroom, the bodyguards would practically wait at the door, fearing she might vanish in a flash. If she tried to speak a few extra words with Lynn, Kevin's gaze would sweep over like a radar, carrying a warning. Phyllis sighed inwardly. John's possessiveness was suffocating! She even attempted a few small "counter-surveillance" maneuvers, like deliberately taking a longer route or changing her itinerary at the last minute, but Kevin would always be waiting ahead of time, or her destination would "coincidentally" have Yarfi Group security personnel present. She knew John was using his own methods to firmly "trap" her by his side, giving no opportunity for danger to approach. Yet, strangely, despite being so tightly controlled, she felt an inexplicable sense of security. It was a contradictory feeling, like being trapped in a cage, but knowing that this cage was the strongest in the world, and no one could harm her. This conflicting emotion made her feelings for John even more complex.
John remained the same, outwardly indifferent to Phyllis, even colder than before. In meetings, his gaze towards her was still distant, as if she were merely a subordinate, strictly business, devoid of any personal emotion. But privately, Phyllis noticed his small gestures. For instance, her desk would always "happen" to have her favorite coffee, at her preferred temperature – neither too hot nor too cold, just right. She once casually mentioned a certain brand of pen being good, and the next day her pen holder contained a full set of that brand's pens, in various colors. Sometimes, when she worked late, Kevin would "conveniently" deliver a steaming hot dinner, saying John had ordered it. These small details warmed Phyllis's heart, yet also left her feeling a little bittersweet. He clearly cared about her, yet pretended not to know her. This awkward concern only further confused her. She didn't understand: had he truly forgotten, or was he deliberately hiding something? If he remembered, why couldn't he just tell her? The uncertainty gnawed at her, a slow, insidious torture far worse than any physical threat.
Phyllis didn't give up her investigation. Trapped in the "gilded cage," she had to find new methods. She began to utilize the Yarfi Group's internal employee network, casually joining interest groups of older employees, such as the "Yarfi History Enthusiasts Association" or "Old Photo Sharing Group." She knew that older employees were often looser-lipped and enjoyed reminiscing, especially about old, dusty matters. She would post blurry old photos in the groups, pretending to be curious about the people and events in them, or ask about the group's early development. Sure enough, some older employees would enthusiastically share stories from the past, including fragmented memories about the accident five years ago, such as unusual actions by senior management at the time, or some of John's habits when he was younger, like his preference for thinking alone in a certain abandoned old warehouse. Though fragmented, these pieces of information were like a jigsaw puzzle for Phyllis, gradually forming the outline of the truth.
Despite the suffocating surveillance, Phyllis refused to yield. The stalled investigation, however, demanded new tactics. Conveniently, John's recent assignments often paired her with Lynn, the group's eccentric tech genius. Lynn, now incredibly compliant and eager to share his latest research, became a crucial breakthrough point. Phyllis leveraged their technical discussions, casually inquiring about the Yarfi Group's early network architecture and system vulnerabilities. The naive techie, once he started talking about technology, would reveal 'secret passages' even Kevin didn't know about—dormant server ports, hidden database entrances. Phyllis inwardly rejoiced; these covert routes, originally set up by John for internal family operations, were now her keys to uncovering the truth.
Even as Phyllis conducted her covert investigation, the family's internal struggles intensified, a constant backdrop to her own dangerous mission. The recent cyberattacks and the ongoing resort project issues, which Uncle Osmond and Leonardo's faction relentlessly exploited, continued to consume John's attention. Phyllis observed John's ruthless efficiency in countering these threats, a reminder of the man she once knew, and the lengths he would go to protect his interests and, she now suspected, her.
This gilded cage, though seemingly luxurious, was in fact full of hidden dangers. Phyllis knew she was at the center of a whirlpool, and John, this man who was both familiar and a stranger, was its source. She knew this path would be perilous, but she had no choice. For the vow made five years ago, for the love deeply buried in her heart, she had to fight with all her might, to the very end!
One weekend afternoon, Phyllis utilized the "secret passage" provided by Lynn, quietly slipping into an abandoned old warehouse of the Yarfi Group. Located deep beneath the Yarfi Building, it was filled with discarded early equipment and files, the air thick with dust and the smell of rust, a blind spot in the security system. Wearing gloves, she carefully sifted through dusty boxes and files, hoping to find more clues about the "Shadow" organization. Time ticked by, her patience almost exhausted. Suddenly, her fingers brushed against something cold and hard. She pulled it out: an old metal badge, engraved with a faint "Shadow" character and a small line of numerical code below it. This badge was identical to the watermark pattern on the anonymous warning letter she had received! Phyllis's heart pounded. The 'Shadow' organization truly existed! And they had intricate ties to the Yarfi family! This discovery left her both excited and terrified; she knew she had touched upon a core secret.
Just as she was about to put the badge away, a low, familiar voice, tinged with an almost imperceptible chill, came from behind her: "What are you looking for?"
Phyllis spun around, to see John standing not far away, backlit, his face terrifyingly grim. In his hand, he held the iris handkerchief she had slipped into his pocket, his fingertips gently caressing the embroidery on the fabric, a gesture as tender as if he were stroking a precious treasure. His eyes were complex and deep, like two bottomless lakes, swirling with emotions she couldn't decipher – anger, confusion, and even a faint, almost imperceptible pain. How was he here?! Phyllis's heart instantly leaped to her throat. She knew she had truly been caught red-handed this time! All her secrets, all her investigations, were, at this moment, exposed before him. She could feel the tension in the air, as if it were about to explode.