The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 2

He was like a flawless masterpiece displayed in a museum—exuding an innate, untouchable brilliance that commanded absolute reverence, ensuring no one would ever dare to disrespect it.

This was the first time Celia had truly encountered Alistair Zucker. She was momentarily stunned by his overwhelming presence, and by the time she snapped out of it, a tear rolled down her cheek with perfect timing.

Biting her lip, she looked at him timidly and called out again, "Uncle Alistair... It's Celia..."

His gaze settled on her. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice deep and magnetic. "Nolan Stafford's daughter?"

Celia nodded, carefully lowering her head.

The Zucker Family had deep roots in politics spanning three generations. They were an elite political dynasty with immense power and foundation in the Capital.

The Stafford Family was also wealthy, but they originally existed in a completely different, lower echelon compared to the Zuckers.

However, years ago, Celia's father, Nolan Stafford, had defied his family's wishes to join the military. He eventually rose through the ranks and took great care of a young Alistair when the latter was sent to the army for training. The two formed a profound, life-or-death brotherhood despite their age gap.

Later, when Nolan died in the line of duty, Alistair had personally looked after the Stafford Family. Even now, as the youngest titan in the political arena, he continued to afford the Staffords the utmost respect and prestige.

He had been handling matters overseas for the past few years and had only returned today. If it hadn't been for an emergency, he would have already been at the Stafford Villa to pay his respects. He certainly hadn't expected to run into Nolan's daughter here.

Alistair's eyes swept over the girl. He had seen her a few times when he was younger. His impression of her was still stuck over a decade in the past, when she used to hide behind Nolan, shyly calling him 'Uncle Alistair'.

As the image of that little girl merged with the young woman standing before him, his cold expression softened just a fraction.

"Well, sweetheart, is this the so-called 'family' you said was picking you up? Hahahaha, the guy doesn't even know you! Stop pretending you know VIPs!"

The blonde thug sneered from behind her, stepping up to grab her arm.

Her shoulders shrinking defensively, Celia cast a desperate, pleading look at Alistair.

Hearing this, Celia hurriedly followed close behind him, heading straight for the club's exit.

Behind them, the thugs continued to shout warnings and insults, but those voices didn't last long before they were abruptly, permanently silenced.

Walking behind Alistair, Celia looked up at his broad, solid back.

If the Capital's high society was a game of power governed by countless rules, then Alistair Zucker was the rulebook itself. If she wanted to survive, she had to do whatever it took to latch onto this towering, unshakeable tree.

Celia raised an eyebrow slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

A sleek black Maybach was parked by the curb. She glanced at the license plate.

"Ms. Stafford, please get in." Ken spoke with the utmost respect as he opened the car door.