“Mr. Veyne, it’s time for you to leave.”
The woman strode off, her skirt flaring behind her like a bouquet of white lilies in full bloom.
Cassian stood frozen in place, powerless to do anything but watch her disappear down the path.
Southgarde Estate was a place divided—some corners lonely, others tinged with disappointment. A heavy, mournful gloom hung in the air.
Meanwhile, tension simmered on Fanny’s end.
Crouched behind a hedge, Pamela peeked through the leaves, her eyes sharp as a hawk’s. In an instant, she spotted a familiar figure at the hotel entrance.
She grit her teeth and spat, “That old bastard. The company’s already a mess, and he’s still got time to meet his mistress.”
Fanny pressed a finger to her lips, motioning for Pamela to quiet down, though her eyes never left Hanley. Like Pamela, she could barely hide her disgust; Pamela had simply voiced what both of them were thinking.
A sly smile tugged at Fanny’s lips as she zoomed her camera in, the screen now close enough to capture every pore on Hanley’s face.
Hanley pulled open the car door, about to climb in, when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and abruptly looked up.
Fanny’s lens followed his gaze. On the third floor, a woman stood by the window—elegant, carefully made up, but lacking the fresh vitality of youth. Her attempt at girlish charm felt forced, almost theatrical.
Yet somehow, Hanley was utterly captivated by her.
Their eyes met across the distance. Hanley’s face lit up with a smile, his eyes crinkling with delight.
Fanny scoffed under her breath, Pamela’s muttered curses filling her ears.
Hanley straightened his tie, slipping back into the polished confidence of a corporate executive.
He got into the car and drove away.
“Pamela!”
Fanny tapped Pamela, pulling her out of her curse-filled trance.
“Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
Pamela barely had time to regain her footing before Fanny dragged her toward the hotel entrance.
“Welcome! Are you ladies checking in?” The receptionist greeted them warmly.
Fanny glanced across the street.
This hotel sat in the heart of downtown, surrounded by sprawling shopping centers. Directly opposite stood Quinborough’s grandest theater.
“I’d like a room facing the theater—on the third floor, if possible.”
The receptionist shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, that room is already booked.”


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