If she had known Adrian Shaw would appear at Elder Quinn's birthday banquet, Serena Stanton would never have agreed to attend.
Was she afraid of him?
Not at all.
She simply didn't want to see him again.
Every time she saw him, she would always remember the Serena Stanton of the past.
That bewildered, desperate girl who charged ahead recklessly, only to end up battered and bruised.
Serena gazed at the man in the mirror. He was clearly standing a full meter away, yet his tall, upright frame seemed to fill her entire field of vision. His pair of jet-black, profound eyes innately carried a cold, beguiling detachment.
The commanding aura of one accustomed to power—unique, untouchable, his presence cool and rigid, keeping others at arm's length.
Like a master strategist calmly surveying the chessboard, contemplating the next move with a subtle amusement.
In the restroom, silence reigned; you could hear a pin drop.
