"Uncle Quinn, your memory is remarkable." Serena Stanton smiled. "Mr. Shaw was two years above me."
Adrian Shaw lounged lazily against the back of his chair, then suddenly laughed: "I'm honored. I thought Stanton had long since forgotten all about me."
Serena Stanton's expression didn't change, her tone polite and distant.
"Mr. Shaw is exceptional—wherever you go, you leave quite the impression. Many remember you."
"So that's how I appear to you." Adrian's brows arched subtly, a playful hint in his eyes. "That's unexpected."
Serena paused.
The man's voice naturally carried a chill, peppered with a laidback ease that came from experience.
He clearly recognized her.
The humiliating memories of their past crawled back, nerves dulled and numb; unconsciously, Serena's fingertips tightened around the fabric of her dress.
Fortunately, from the outside, their conversation and expressions betrayed nothing unusual.
Like a casual reminiscence between an alumnus and a junior, a light sigh over days gone by.
Cameron Quinn did not notice a thing, his voice deep and warm: "I just remember Luna was at high school with you all. Some went abroad, some stayed; all scattered to the corners of the world."
Jacqueline Sutton took Serena's arm, smiling: "I didn't know you and Mr. Shaw had such history."
They chatted briefly; it was getting late, most guests had arrived, and the guest of honor was due to appear.
Cameron Quinn glanced at the antique clock on the wall, then slowly stood, supporting himself on the sofa's arm. Lauren Sutton handed him the intricately carved ebony cane beside her.
Serena waited quietly at the side, her peripheral vision catching Adrian Shaw as he rose with languid grace.
Tall and lean, he could effortlessly enclose her entire presence.
A faint, peculiar emotion crept silently into her heart.
The contrast between his imposing figure and her slender waist was stark—she seemed almost too delicate beside him, together forming a striking silhouette of beauty.
Serena discreetly shifted her body, watching Lauren help Elder Quinn up.
Though the man stood behind her at a fair distance, Serena felt his crisp, cool scent drift over, carrying a familiar sense of invasion.
Her breath, slightly stalled.
Adrian glanced her way, his stance elegant, spine straight, like a rose atop a snowy peak—utterly unwilling to bow.
Esteemed as Cameron Quinn was, even at his own birthday banquet, he would pause and wait for the distinguished young lord.
Adrian lowered his gaze and walked unhurriedly toward the door, accompanying Cameron to the main hall.
Tall, long-legged, as he passed Serena's side, he cast a deep, thick shadow—like a mighty eagle's wings unfolding, enveloping her in an instant.
A few seconds later, the shadow faded, and she exhaled quietly.
Lauren and Serena followed a few paces behind; they discussed openly in front, while the two women whispered in the rear.
"Before today, I only knew you were close to President Grant—I didn't realize you also knew Mr. Shaw."
Lauren sized Serena up, as if hunting for secrets. "Serena, how many surprises are you still hiding from me?"
"No more." Serena smiled with her brows gently arched, half sincere, half teasing. "And I'm not familiar with Mr. Shaw—that's a surprise?"
"Are you sure you're not familiar?" Lauren asked, skeptical.
"Really not familiar," Serena replied. "Different circles. I'm hardly qualified to play in his league."
That made sense.
High society had fixed circles; if your threshold was too far off, you couldn't mix in for real.
They—the business folk—might indulge in decadence together daily, but the true elites, those who rarely showed their faces, were the ones actually standing at the apex of the pyramid.
"President Grant isn't here today?" Lauren asked again.
Serena replied, "He's away on business."
"That explains why I haven't seen him." Lauren nodded in understanding. "President Grant's busy. Makes sense."
The birthday banquet wasn't large, but it was elegant and ornate. In the hall, guests clustered in small groups, exchanging witty banter and drinks, a scene of refined grandeur: perfume and dazzling hairdos everywhere.
The Quinn Family's nine-year-old little princess wore a sumptuous dress, playing a lively waltz at the piano. Seeing Cameron Quinn, she sprang up and ran over, calling "Grandpa!"
Cameron bent down, smiling kindly as he spoke a few words with her, then, as the guest of honor, addressed the crowd with a short speech.
Serena looked over, but Adrian Shaw was nowhere to be seen. Ever enigmatic and discreet, perhaps he'd already offered his congratulations and gift before leaving.
Many in attendance were Cameron Quinn's former students. As the teacher spoke, they cheered him on; when he finished, they pressed forward, enthusiastically reminiscing.
Serena, quick-witted, teamed up with Lauren to network efficiently—conversing with industry giants, and exchanging contacts with those who might help grow the law firm's business.
"Hey," Lauren suddenly nudged Serena with her elbow, lowering her voice, "Look over there."
"What?" Serena followed her line of sight.
Adrian Shaw, in her view.
Out on the terrace, the roses bloomed thick and wild.
Golden light sprawled across the man's polished shoes; tailored pants hugged his long, straight legs. He radiated an air of unrestrained aristocratic charm.
Beside him, a woman wore a luxurious satin mini-dress, her curves pronounced, the fabric clinging to trace out her slender waist.
She smiled coyly, offering a champagne flute, which he tapped back with absentminded pleasure.
Though other young men were nearby, the beauty watched only Adrian.
"That's Elder Quinn's youngest daughter, Luna Quinn," Lauren said to Serena.
Serena's gaze lingered on the terrace, her expression calm: "I know. She just returned from America not long ago."
Lauren pondered for a moment, then grew interested in analyzing the beauty: "Do you think she has a thing for Mr. Shaw?"
"No surprise." Serena raised her glass, sipping the champagne lightly. "Adrian Shaw's pedigree is impeccable, handsome too—he's never lacked admirers lined up for him."
Luna's affectionate gaze toward Adrian felt familiar to Serena.
Even five years ago, when they were dating, she'd always spot those burning glances directed at Adrian at every sort of event.
Lauren, hearing this, stared fixedly at Serena, as though she'd uncovered something startling.
"You call his name so smoothly—don't tell me you like him too?"
Almost at the moment the question dropped, out on the terrace, Adrian Shaw seemed to sense something and lifted his eyes toward her.
Across the mellow melodies and shrewd crowd, his gaze landed right on Serena's face, meeting hers.
Serena stiffened her spine instantly; it felt like stepping off a ledge, tumbling into a dangerously deep trap.
Two seconds frozen, then she silently shifted her gaze away.
She set down her glass, the base meeting the marble tabletop with a soft clink. Then, her red lips parted, and a quietly alluring voice spilled two words.
"Jealousy."
Lauren, fierce and exacting at work and a big sister in private, couldn't help but laugh, her accent tinging with Valeray dialect.
"I saw you staring at him, thought maybe you liked him, but turns out you're just envious of his luck, huh?"