He Lost Me to His Best Friend novel Chapter 49

Half an hour later.

Inside a VIP room on the second floor of Mooncrest Café, the rich aroma of roasted coffee beans lingered in the air.

As Scarlett pushed the door open, her eyes landed on the man sitting upright in a single armchair by the window.

He wore a linen shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up to his forearms, revealing smooth, lean wrists. A subtle agarwood bracelet rested on his wrist, adding a touch of elegance to his low-key demeanor.

Hearing the door open, he slowly looked up.

In that instant, Scarlett felt as though she were looking at melting snow in early spring. His eyes were incredibly clear and gentle, yet they held an undeniable aura of nobility.

His features were deeply set but not sharp like chiseled stone. Instead, they had a soft, rounded quality. His eyes curved slightly, his nose was straight but not overly prominent, and his lips naturally turned up at the corners, giving him the appearance of an eternal spring breeze.

He didn't possess the aggressive edge typical of business elites. Instead, he radiated the quiet calm of a scholar.

His elegance didn't stem from designer clothes, but from an innate composure and serenity that seemed to run deep in his bones. It was as if nothing in the world could truly faze him, yet he treated everything with profound gentleness.

"You're here," he said softly. His voice was as smooth and resonant as striking jade, clear and beautifully melodious.

Scarlett felt an inexplicable flutter in her chest, and her previously relaxed nerves suddenly pulled taut.

To see such a stunningly handsome man in real life... He truly deserved the title "Adonis," she exclaimed inwardly.

"Yes. You must be Julian Croft. I've heard so much about you." Out of respect, Scarlett extended her hand politely.

Julian stood up and offered a gentlemanly handshake. His grip was firm but gentle, his palm warm. He then motioned for her to sit in the armchair across from him.

"What kind of coffee do you prefer? Cappuccino, latte, or Americano?"

"A black Americano, please."

Julian immediately called the waiter over, ordering an Americano for Scarlett along with some artisan pastries that women usually enjoyed.

Then, he cut straight to the chase. "You were the one who orchestrated the trending topic about Yardley and Sylvia."

It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact. His gaze, as he looked at Scarlett, was open yet carried a hint of sharpness.

Scarlett was slightly taken aback, but she nodded instinctively. "Yes."

Julian leaned forward slightly, adopting a listening posture. "I'd like to know why."

Despite his gentle eyes, Scarlett felt an inexplicable, intense pressure emanating from him. Julian didn't seem to be here to interrogate her, as she had initially thought, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what his intention was.

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