He burst through the back corridor, his expensive dress shoes slipping on the polished marble, his carefully styled hair coming undone, his perfectly tailored suit jacket twisted awkwardly from shoving past people. He looked nothing like the composed CEO who'd walked onto that stage twenty minutes ago.
He looked like a man coming apart at the seams.
The loading exit was just ahead, the door still propped open, late afternoon sunlight streaming in like a spotlight.
He reached it just in time to see the Mercedes pulling away from the curb.
"SHUYIN!"
He banged on the window with his fist, too late, too slow, too desperate.
The tinted glass reflected his own face back at him, distorted and frantic, but he couldn't see inside. Couldn't tell if she was looking back at him or if she'd already turned away, already moved on, already written him off as another mistake in a life full of them.
The car didn't stop.
Didn't even slow down.
