Chapter 179

"Keep an eye on her every move and report back to me immediately," Dustin ordered one of the Hell Guards as they left the alley. Although he'd given Bianca three days, he wasn't going to wait. Someone as arrogant as Bianca would only become more insolent under direct threats. His ultimatum was a deliberate trap, paired with round-the-clock surveillance to ensure she led them to his father's remains. After issuing his orders, Dustin returned to the West family villa.

The West family had recently risen to prominence with his support. Most members were preoccupied with various affairs, leaving the villa quieter during the day.

"Master Fox" Irene murmured from a pillar. She still struggled to address him that way. The young man she'd once recruited from a bar had become "Master Fox" to the West family—Lucius's insistence on showing Dustin the utmost respect left Irene feeling awkward and uneasy.

"Just call me Dustin," he said calmly. He wasn't fond of the title either.

"D-Dustin," Irene stammered, her fingers twisting nervously as she lowered her gaze, "could I ask you a favor?"

"Go ahead. If it's something I can do, I'll help," Dustin said with a faint smile. He'd always rewarded loyalty generously, which was why he supported the West family.

"Could you be my date at tonight's graduation ball?" she asked, her cheeks flushing crimson.

Dustin was momentarily stunned.

"I really couldn't find anyone else" she mumbled, lowering her head further. At her prestigious university, her beauty made her the target of envy among wealthy heiresses, while her disdain for entitled young men left her with few friends. For the graduation ball, her peers had goaded her into boasting about having the perfect date, but she'd had no one to turn to except Dustin.

"Alright," Dustin nodded. It wasn't a big deal.

Irene's face lit up. "Seven p.m. tonight. I'll be waiting for you!" she exclaimed excitedly, giving him the address before dashing off.

At the Lannopolis Elite College art students' graduation ball, wealth and glamour reigned. Heiresses in dazzling gowns and extravagant jewels mingled with heirs in impeccably tailored suits. This wasn't just a celebration; it was a grand networking event for the upper class.

One person stood out: Irene, alone in a quiet corner. Her simple gown seemed modest compared to the extravagant outfits around her. While others chatted and laughed, she remained isolated.

Soon, a small group approached, their expressions mocking. Leading them was Phoebe Chandler, in a daring red, high-slit dress. Her figure was striking, but her features unremarkable.

"Irene, where's your perfect date? Stuck in traffic, perhaps?" Phoebe teased. Phoebe, a long-standing rival, had targeted Irene since their first year, ever since the man Phoebe pursued relentlessly during orientation chose Irene instead.

"The ball's started, and he still hasn't shown up. Don't tell me you made him up just to save face?" Phoebe laughed mockingly.

Irene's face darkened. The clock ticked past seven; Dustin hadn't appeared, and she felt anxious.

"I didn't make him up. Maybe something came up" Irene said, her voice strained as she fought to remain composed.