The receptionist offered Raven Zhao a polite smile.
"Miss, do you have a reservation?"
The lounge buzzed with quiet conversation. Guests filled the sofas and armchairs, waiting for the evening conference to begin. Suitcases stood beside polished shoes, and the soft hum of voices drifted beneath the chandeliers.
Raven adjusted the strap of her bag.
"I'm Raven Zhao," she said. "I don't have a reservation."
She had planned to leave the same day. Her return ticket, however, was still unconfirmed.
The receptionist nodded, her gaze briefly shifting toward the entrance.
Aidan stood there speaking with several men in blue suits, their conversation animated but controlled in the way of businessmen discussing matters that involved too much money.
Understanding flickered across the receptionist's face.
Without another question, she reached beneath the desk and placed a matte golden card on the counter.
"Twenty-third floor. Room 001."
She gestured subtly toward a housekeeper waiting nearby.
"Please escort Miss Zhao."
Raven slipped away again before Aidan noticed. When his brief exchange with the businessmen ended, he marched toward the elevator, two shopping bags in hand.
He stepped into the elevator just as another man slipped in behind him.
Jacob, his hotel secretary, dressed in a neat navy-blue suit, nodded in greeting.
"Master, as per your instruction, we gave her the key to your penthouse. She should be in her room now."
"Hmph. You're capable. Expect a bonus this weekend," Aidan said with a faint nod.
The elevator doors slid open at the topmost floor.
Aidan stepped out and walked toward the penthouse—his permanent residence. The corridor was silent, the lights soft against the polished floor.
He approached the door.
The lock scanned his face.
Click.
The door was unlocked.
"Shit."
Aidan froze.
He had completely forgotten about the face lock.
He stepped back quickly and slipped into the blind corner beside the wall.
The door opened.
Raven stepped into the hallway, frowning slightly.
"How did the door open?"
She looked down the quiet corridor. Only identical doors lined the floor.
"Perhaps I forgot to lock it," she murmured.
She stepped back inside and shut the door firmly, locking it manually.
Aidan exhaled slowly.
"Sir, wear this mask."
Aidan nearly jumped.
Jacob was standing right behind him, holding out a black mask.
"You scared me," Aidan muttered, turning sharply.
"I was right behind you," Jacob replied calmly.
"Get lost!" Aidan snapped, snatching the mask from his hand.
Jacob left without another word.
The corridor fell quiet again.
Aidan waited.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Finally, he stepped up to the door and knocked—something he had never done in the ten years he had lived there.
"A minute!" Raven called from inside.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Aidan stood in the hallway, tall and composed, as if he had been expected all along.
"How did you—?" Raven asked. A thousand questions rose to her lips, but he interrupted her and said, "This is the uniform; wear this."
"—something that would go with this."
Raven absentmindedly took the bags from his hand; before she could say anything, he waved his hand and said, "Bye."
Before she could say anything, he waved dismissively and turned away.
The corridor swallowed him before she could stop him.
—
The conference had begun. Guests were already entering the venue.
The hall was decorated entirely in shades of green, symbolizing the joint venture between the powerful industrial groups hosting the event. Their branding logos appeared everywhere—stamped onto banners, projected across screens, and printed on the sleek display stands placed throughout the hall.
Aidan hadn't planned to attend.
But William had reminded him again.
Accompany her to the conference.
The message had been clear.
Aidan told himself it was only practical. Raven would naturally feel awkward at such a large event. After all, it was her first official public appearance.
So he waited for her at the entrance.
Groups of young socialites and businesswomen passed by, greeting him with bright smiles and excited laughter. Some leaned a little too close, almost throwing themselves into his arms as they spoke.
Aidan accepted the attention with practiced ease.
He couldn't deny that it pleased him.
"Aidan, do you remember me?" a cheerful voice called out.
He turned.
"We danced at Mr. Ray's auction ball."
Miss Zuo, the heiress of the Zuo Group, stood before him. She wore a graceful green princess-cut dress that matched the theme of the evening perfectly.
It had to be said—of all the women he had encountered that night, she was perhaps the most elegant and well-mannered.
"I didn't know they invited angels," Aidan said with a flirtatious smirk.
"Oh… come on." Miss Zuo blushed lightly. "We couldn't exchange contacts last time."
"Well, I didn't know you were real."
Aidan took her hand and placed a brief, courteous kiss on it. Then, with a fleeting glance at Jacob, he added casually, "He'll be at your service tonight."
Miss Zuo's smile remained perfectly in place as she looked Jacob over. She leaned closer and whispered into Aidan's ear.
"I'd rather have you serve me instead, Mister Aidan."
Aidan almost laughed, ready to play along, but then he noticed the man standing beside her.
Robust, handsome, and composed.
Her fiancé.
"I'd be glad to," Aidan replied smoothly, "if your date didn't look like he was about to scare me to death."
He nodded subtly toward the man.
Miss Zuo glanced back.
"Oh—right. I forgot he existed." She laughed lightly. "You're such a magnet, Aidan."
Her teasing did exactly what she intended.
The man stepped forward, his expression tightening. Without a word, he slipped an arm around her waist and guided her toward the hall, pulling her possessively into his side.
Miss Zuo allowed herself to be carried away into the crowd, though she threw Aidan one last playful smile over her shoulder.
"Damn," Jacob muttered. "He's jealous for nothing. Miss Zuo is a loyal lady."
Aidan watched them disappear among the guests, the man's attention fixed entirely on her.
"Loyalty to one can be infidelity to another," he said thoughtfully.