She discovered the first-floor restrooms were under maintenance.
She had no choice but to head up to the second floor.
Compared to the bustling first floor, the second floor was spacious and deserted.
A group of people walked toward her from the opposite direction.
The man leading the pack wore a bespoke, pure black suit. The fabric was a matte, textured Italian wool that exuded an understated yet incredibly luxurious sheen under the lights.
The shoulder lines were razor-sharp, and the waist was perfectly tailored, highlighting his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and perfectly straight posture.
His subtle cufflinks hinted at immense wealth, and every step he took carried an innate, suffocating dominance.
Vanessa stopped in her tracks, a wave of panic hitting her.
She hadn't expected to run into him here at all.
Just as she hesitated over whether to greet him, the man led his entourage right past her without breaking stride, not sparing her a single glance.
It wasn't until they vanished into a private suite that Vanessa's tense body finally relaxed.
An inexplicable trace of disappointment brushed against her heart.
It seemed he really had taken her morning text to heart.
This was for the best. From now on, they were just strangers.
Their illicit history was over and done with. They could go their separate ways and live happily.
Having steadied her emotions, she was on her phone as she slowly walked out of the restroom.
Suddenly, a large, well-defined hand reached out from a nearby private room, forcefully grabbing her arm and hauling her inside without a word.
"Max, is there a mistake with your infor— Ah!"
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