"Please wait a moment, I'll check for you."
The receptionist bent over the computer, searching carefully twice before looking up, regret written all over her face. "Miss Stanton, there's currently no sign of your pass at the lost and found."
The moment the manager heard that a distinguished guest was checking out, he immediately put aside his work and hurried over.
The young woman before him had an unmistakable air: pale skin as fair as snow, thick, slightly curled hair cascading down, accentuating the overly elegant lines of her shoulders and neck.
Tall, slender, strikingly beautiful, with an understated aloofness.
The manager recognized Serena Stanton at a glance—the honored guest whose room Sean Wallace had personally arranged.
People coming and going at a luxury hotel were all of wealth or status, but to have the special attention of Portryn's Third Young Master Wallace made one especially extraordinary.
Once he understood the situation, the manager instantly adopted an attitude fifty times more respectful than usual, his face spread with a perfect, humble smile.
"Miss Stanton, let me ask the other staff and send someone to check the surveillance. I'll give you a definite answer shortly, is that all right?"
Serena had no other options. "That's fine. Thank you."
The front desk staff were changing shifts, not the ones who had been on duty earlier; coordination and communication would take time.
There was still some time before her flight.
Serena was preoccupied with what she'd need to do if her pass was lost, and didn't notice the man who had approached behind her.
She turned, and without warning, collided solidly with his chest.
The fabric of his satin shirt was fine, warmed by his body heat, and pressed against Serena's cheek, lighting up a faint, searing sensation.
She immediately stepped back, putting space between them, her movement quick—almost defensive.
"Sorry."
As she spoke, she lifted her head, meeting a pair of deep, jet-black eyes. Her heart startled in her chest.
It was Adrian Shaw.
She'd stayed in her suite, barely leaving, just to avoid him. Yet in the end, she still ran right into him on her way out.
At this moment, Adrian Shaw was looking down at her, his thick, long lashes lowered, expression unchanged, as if he were talking to someone on the phone.
"—Mm. Single." He uttered the word, brief and concise.
"Mr. Shaw." The hotel staff bowed respectfully in greeting.
Adrian's gaze remained fixed on Serena. That sharp, handsome face radiated a cool indifference.
He always carried an air of impenetrable enigma, like a mysterious flower blossoming in the shadows—exquisitely dangerous, yet irresistibly alluring.
Serena instinctively tightened her grip on her phone, averted her eyes, and calmly repeated herself.
"Sorry."
The man's hair was tousled over his forehead—his mood unreadable; he only inclined his head slightly.
Distant, indifferent.
A minimal response to her apology.
His tall, well-defined figure blocked her way, radiating an almost tangible heat.
Even with some space between them, Serena still felt overwhelmed by his presence, sweat forming in her palm as she edged sideways, eager to leave.
Just then, the hotel manager called out behind her, relief in his voice: "Miss Stanton! Your pass has been found!"
Serena stopped, her heart sinking, and braced herself to turn back around.
"Strange, we searched everywhere all this while and didn't see it. Then suddenly it was right there, beside that vase," the manager explained with a smile, handing her the pass with both hands.
Serena took it—the surface cool at her fingertips—glancing quickly at the information to confirm it was hers.
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome. Wishing you a pleasant life!" the manager replied courteously.
Serena put away the pass, gripped the suitcase handle, and walked out with composure, even as the manager behind her respectfully asked Mr. Shaw if he needed anything else.
Then, she heard Adrian's voice—so close it felt as if he was right behind her, yet so distant it echoed from five years ago.
Serena tensed instinctively, not pausing for a second, not looking back as she left the hotel.
Bringing to an end this reunion, which on the surface seemed calm, but in truth was unbearably awkward.
Adrian watched her retreating figure, the barest hint of a frown between his brows.
On the phone, Sean Wallace was still going on and on, but was briefly stunned when he heard Adrian's words.
"Huh? Single? I'm asking whether you'll attend the Hale Family's engagement party. Why are you telling me you're single? But now that you mention it, all these years there hasn't even been a female mosquito near you. I thought you still had feelings for Serena."
As if hearing a joke, Adrian let out a cold laugh, his lips curving in derision.
"With an imagination like that, you should've become a paparazzo."
"Eh? How did you know that was my childhood dream?" Sean replied, still grinning. "Now I really believe you don't have the slightest attachment to her left. By the way, Serena's undergone an incredible transformation—not just prettier, but her personality's changed a lot, too. Do you know what she does now?"
He didn't expect a response, and so revealed it himself, a note of surprise in his voice: "Law-yer! Can you believe it? I remember she used to be all Buddhist, easygoing—she wouldn't even argue with anyone, always spoke gently, like some innocent ragdoll bunny. I just can't picture her at war in court. Tsk. That contrast..."
Adrian's face remained as composed as ever as he listened to Sean's endless chatter, yet a vague, inexpressible irritation crept onto his brow, as if he found it all too noisy.
"Sean, got a lot of free time on your hands?"
Adrian's voice was icy. "If you're so interested in other people's transformation stories, why not focus on your own dock project losses, and how you're going to explain those to your old man?"
"..." There was instant dead silence on the line.
Mr. Shaw's words were always sharp as a needle, straight to the bone.
Sean's torrent of words was abruptly cut off, as if the throat of fate had been gripped.
*
An unexpected number-eight typhoon warning struck, and many travelers had no choice but to stay in Portryn.
After the airport resumed operations, everyone hurried along, focused on getting to their destinations, no one pausing to notice the strangers passing by.
The flights back to Valeray departed as scheduled.
Boarding on time, she sent Jasper Grant her flight details.
Serena sat in her seat, fastened her seatbelt, and gazed quietly out the window.
The sky outside was a leaden gray, as if it might collapse any second; the wind was fierce, and every cloud seemed determined to keep its secrets locked tightly away.
Running into Adrian again, Serena couldn't help but feel unsettled inside.
A natural, instinctive response to an unforeseen encounter.
Her emotions ran high, her state wildly unstable.
Now, as her mind gradually quieted, she could begin to regulate her thoughts, rationally reviewing the event.
This reunion had been wholly unexpected.
A costly mishap, and out came an ex-boyfriend instead.
If it hadn't been for the hotel's card mix-up, even she wouldn't have realized how deep an imprint Adrian had left on her—etched to the bone, impossible to forget over the years.
Whether Adrian had truly forgotten her, or, after everything, no longer cared about the past and saw her as a stranger, unwilling to ever cross paths again—
They would never meet again.