A strange irritation stirred in Ethan’s chest, simmering just beneath the surface.
“Is this all just another calculated scheme?’ Ethan wondered, ‘Another one of Sophia’s ploys to draw attention to herself?’
He tightened his hold on Chloe, pulling her closer, as if shielding her from the fallout. His voice rang out across the room, sharp with disdain. “Sophia, you think you can get my attention by hurting Chloe?
“You venomous woman. You disgust me!”
Sophia, however, didn’t flinch, didn’t falter. Her stride remained steady, each step measured and deliberate. The quiet confidence in her movements, the unwavering calm in her departure, made Ethan’s words feel weightless, as if they’d vanished into thin air.
Outside the glittering opulence of the Century Crown Hotel, a sleek black car idled by the curb. The vehicle blended into the shadows, its polished exterior reflecting the city lights like a dark mirror.
Inside, a man redlined lazily against the seatback. His crisp black shirt fit perfectly over his broad shoulders, emphasizing his lean, powerful frame. His long legs stretched out comfortably, and the subtle indifference in his demeanor made the confined space feel heavy with unspoken authority.
His slender, jade-like fingers tapped rhythmically against the edge of the car window, the sound blending seamlessly with the faint hum of the city
Outside
The man’s silent, commanding presence seemed to draw the walls of the car inward, until the very air felt thin and heavy.
In the driver’s seat, Gary Tomlins glanced nervously at the rearview mirror, swallowing hard before speaking,
“Tristan, I swear, the target is definitely in there!” His voice carried a mixture of pride and urgency as he twisted around to face the man in the
backseat
Thumping his chest, he continued, “The system I built is flawless! That clusive miracle doctor from the Shadow Clan the one who’s always impossible to track-
is absolutely at the Stewart Family’s party tonight!*
He gestured excitedly toward the car’s electronic display. “See this? My advanced tech has given us a complete view of the party. No blind spots. I’ll pinpoint exactly who the person is in no time!”
On the screen, a live feed from the Stewart banquet played, showing every corner of the grand hall.
Amid the glittering crowd, a lone person cloaked in a gray hoodie strode steadily out of the chaos, hands buried in her pockets.
Tristan Yeats’ sparkling eyes narrowed the moment the person came into view. The faint reflection of his chiseled features shimmered against the car window, illuminated by the dazzling city lights. His striking, otherworldly face seemed carved from stone, a flawless Greek masterpiece that radiated power and magnetism.
