Chapter 4

My love for photography had absolutely nothing to do with her anymore.

Truth be told, the moment I read that bloody suicide note in our past life, my feelings for her had died completely.

It was just that when I was reborn, I realized all my savings had already been spent on that expensive camera gear.

I couldn't get a decent price for it on eBay, so I figured I might as well use it myself.

And ironically, I actually fell in love with the craft.

In this life, I didn't shoot to please anyone else. I did it entirely for myself.

I politely declined Fiona’s offer once more, keeping my tone completely detached. "My 'hobby' covers all my expenses just fine. But thank you for the concern."

Seeing me repeatedly reject her "charity," a flash of anger crossed Fiona’s face. "Fine. Reject my help. Just don't come crying to me when you're starving on the streets!"

I didn't say anything, nor did I bother to explain things to her.

My work was currently being contracted by several major national publications and top-tier global magazines.

My licensing fees alone brought in more than enough money—definitely not less than what Fiona was making with her startup.

But if I said it out loud, she’d probably just think I was lying to save face.

After all, my wrinkled loungewear did make me look incredibly out of place.

I had my son to thank for that. He had begged me to play in the sandpit with him earlier, and the second I turned my back, he had vanished downstairs.

I hadn't even had time to change before running out to find him.

As I was looking for a way out, the waiter suddenly pointed at my clothes as if he had made a major discovery.

"Wait, is that Balenciaga? Where did you steal that from? Are you one of the janitors here? Did you steal that from a guest's room?"

I frowned, losing my patience. "Is it so hard to believe that this is my own shirt?"

Julian burst out laughing, his tone mocking. "Yours? Can you even afford it? What kind of wealthy person runs around looking like a total slob?"

He dramatically covered his nose. "It's so dirty. I bet you stole it and threw it on without even washing it."

Fiona glared at me, her eyebrows furrowing so deeply they almost met. "Ethan, you've sunk this low, and you're still lying to protect your useless pride?"

I ignored both of them and looked directly at the waiter. "If you really think I stole something, feel free to call the police right now."

I knew he was only barking because he saw Julian disliked me and wanted to suck up to him.

Sure enough, his bravado withered slightly at the mention of the police. He muttered under his breath, "If it weren't for the VIP guest staying here today, I would have called the cops already. We can't have trash like you causing a scene."

Julian’s eyes lit up, and he immediately chimed in, "You mean the heiress of the Lockhart family? I heard she’s visiting San Francisco with her family and staying at this exact hotel."

Fiona nodded, a look of ambition in her eyes. "Our company is working on a new project. If we could get the backing of the Lockhart family, it would change everything."

The name "Lockhart" was like throwing a match into a pile of dry wood. The crowd instantly erupted into excited murmurs.

"Honestly, half of us only came to this gala hoping to catch a glimpse of Mrs. Lockhart. Her family literally owns this entire high-rise."

"I heard she married young and already has a son. I wonder which billionaire family she allied with."

While everyone was gossiping, the hotel general manager suddenly rushed into the ballroom, sweat pouring down his face, followed by a security detail.

"Excuse me, everyone! Has anyone seen a seven-year-old boy? About this high, blonde hair, blue eyes?"

The manager wiped his forehead anxiously, his eyes scanning the room frantically.

Someone quick on their feet immediately put two and two together. "Is it the young heir of the Lockhart family? I heard he’s seven years old!"

The guests instantly became eager, searching the room.

After all, if they could find the boy, they would have a golden ticket to introduce themselves to the Lockhart family.

Fiona and Julian quickly joined the search, completely forgetting about me.

I looked around the chaotic room and walked straight toward the VIP dessert buffet.

Sure enough, tucked under a table with a white tablecloth, was my son, his face completely covered in chocolate frosting.

I stood there with a cold face and held out my hand. "Get out here. Now."

My son gasped, wrapping his arms around the table leg. "No way!"

I was about to reach in and grab him when Julian suddenly appeared out of nowhere, dramatically stepping between me and the table.

"Ethan! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Even if you’re desperate to climb the social ladder and suck up to the Lockharts, you can't just lay your hands on a child!"

Fiona rushed over, looking at me with absolute disgust and disappointment. "Ethan, I can't believe you’ve become this desperate for fame and money. It's pathetic."

The waiter grabbed the manager, pointing a finger at me. "Sir! This is the guy! He snuck into the gala, and he's wearing stolen clothes!"

The manager’s face instantly darkened, and he yelled at the security guards, "Grab this thief and call the police! If he frightens the young master, you’re all fired!"

A triumphant smirk flashed across Julian’s face. He bent down, putting on his best, most gentle smile for my son.

"Hey there, little guy. Come to me. I'll make sure this bad man doesn't hurt you."

My son didn't even look at him. Under the stunned gazes of everyone in the room, he crawled out from under the table and carefully grabbed my hand.

"Daddy... I'm sorry."