At the same time, Sean whipped out his phone and barked orders into it. "Find out everything you can on the male model who just left the catwalk."
"Yes, Mr. Cranston."
"And arrange for people to watch him. Don’t let him out of your sight."
"Understood, sir."
Sean put away his phone, then told Cordy, "We can talk after we looked into him."
Cordy bit her lip as she worked hard to control herself.
She was worried that the higher her hopes, the greater the disappointment—she might even suffer a nervous breakdown because of this.
Even as she remained in her seat, she was unable to watch the rest of the fashion show. All she could think about was that male supermodel. She was simply unable to forget that exceedingly familiar figure.
After over half an hour, Sean told Cordy, "I've sent his dossier to your phone. Check it yourself."
Cordy's heart skipped a beat and started racing, but she was afraid of reading it.
"Check it out so you can give up," Sean urged.
Cordy bit her lip once more.
She calmed down considerably, and already knew the answer in her heart.
Miracles didn’t alway happen in this world—this was just a survivor's wishful thinking.
Cordy tapped on the dossier Sean sent and saw the name Lucas Lynch.
He was 26, and had mixed ancestry—his father was from the capital, and his mother a Minervan, where he was raised.
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