Does he really hate her that much?

He'd rather ignore her requests and watch his own company suffer?

Sabrina knew the hole Pama Conglomerate was in right now. She knew how badly they needed Twinkle. If this deal went through, it'd be a major hit to Gracewell.

And yet Cedric would rather let Pama fall apart than even talk to her?

She didn't leave because of some huge scandal. She hadn't done anything close to criminal. Just walked away when she'd hit rock bottom.

Was that really unforgivable?

"Why would I bother?" Cedric let out a mocking scoff, like her question was a joke.

He turned sharply, and her hand brushed off the hem of his coat.

"Maybe the better question is-why did you come back?" His voice was low, clenched, heavy with restraint-like he was one second away from snapping.

"I..." Sabrina froze, stunned by how furious and on edge he looked.

Something about the whole thing felt wrong. Off in a way that made her skin crawl.

This wasn't how he was supposed to react. None of this was how she expected.

"I know Pama's been in touch. From a business point of view, it makes sense-so why didn't you work with them?" Cedric had been confused himself. Pama had prestige, better offers, everything. And yet the beauty expert turned them down.

Was it pride? Or...

In that moment, something clicked for him.

A horrible, ugly possibility flashed through his mind.

His hands clenched tightly by his sides. He leaned in, voice barely above a whisper, like it took everything in him just to keep it together.

"Or do you think a life is something you can pay off with a lucrative deal? Is that the trade, Miss Lionhart?"

He kept pushing, each word sharper than the last.

"I kill someone close to you, then turn around and offer you a deal worth millions-would you take it?"

With Maxon Group's power, they could totally swing something like that. The only question was-would Sabrina agree?

She stood there, pale, her mouth open, but no sound came out.

Because all she could see written all over Cedric's face... was hate.

A life. What life was he talking about?

She wanted to ask, but Cedric didn't give her the chance. He turned and stormed out.

The second he was gone, it was like the air dropped out of the room.

Sabrina crumpled to the floor.

Completely drained.

What just happened?

Why couldn't she figure out what he meant? Why did it feel like there was a gaping hole in her memory?

The thought hit her hard.

She grabbed at her head, panic overtaking her. The fear of forgetting something important-it clawed at her, making her chest feel tight, like she couldn't breathe.

This wasn't the first time either. The way Margaret talked to her-full of hatred and a kind of disgust-accusing her of being cold-blooded, calling her a murderer...

What had she done?

"Madam? Are you okay?" The waitress by the door had been watching the whole thing, and now hurried over, clearly worried. Sabrina still hadn't stood up.

"I..." Sabrina looked up, brow furrowed, pain flickering in her eyes.

Something was deeply wrong. She felt it.

But how could she explain it?

No head trauma, no accident-and yet the terrifying realization that she was missing pieces of her past slammed into her like a freight train.

She was fully conscious, totally aware.

And somehow, she couldn't remember.

She knew deep down that certain things had actually happened, yet her mind was a complete blank. In fact, she couldn't even tell what was real anymore-whether something had truly occurred or was just something she imagined.

At first, she thought maybe she was just forgetful. But when things got worse, she brought it up with her mom.

Lynne took her to the hospital, and they went to a bunch of departments. Everyone had their own opinion, and after getting referred around, she finally ended up at neurology. That's how she met Monica.

She didn't really get what "neurology" meant, but just hearing the word made her feel uneasy.

Monica explained that the brain's all about nerves and since it's part of the body, that falls under neurology. She told her not to stress-it was nothing major. Kind of like a fibroadenoma in the chest: sounds scary, but totally harmless.

"Madam, do you want me to call an ambulance for you?" the waiter asked kindly, noticing how pale she looked.

Sabrina shook her head and slowly stood up, unsteady on her feet. "No, it's fine... really, thank you."

"You're welcome, take care." The waiter couldn't help but remind her gently as she started to leave.

"Thanks." Sabrina leaned against the wall as she walked out of Auburn Dining. The chilly, dry wind hit her face the second she stepped outside, clearing her head just a little.

This wasn't right. Monica had told her-her emotional state mattered the most. She needed to stay in a good mood.

She lifted her hand and wiped at her eyes, forcing the tears back. Wiping tears was easy. Feeling happy-that was the hard part.

In a daze, she made her way to the curb and flagged down a cab, giving the address to Monica's clinic.

*****

At that moment, Monica was taking a short break from back-to-back patients, finally getting a sip of water and chatting gossip with the front desk nurse. She'd just set down her cup and was about to head back when she caught sight of someone stepping inside the clinic, looking totally out of it.

Monica froze. Everyone knew Sabrina avoided this place like the plague-said the clinic constantly reminded her she might have something wrong neurologically, and that made it hard to feel okay.

But now? She came here voluntarily?

"Sabrina!" Monica clicked across the floor in heels, quickly making her way over. She bent down a little to meet Sabrina's eyes and saw her pale, spiritless face-completely unlike her usual upbeat self. Monica's heart sank. Her voice softened instinctively, with a gentle warmth: "What's going on?"

"I..."

"Dr. Simpson, the patient in Room 3 is freaking out, says you've been gone too long," a nurse's voice cut in at the same moment.

Sabrina realized she was interfering with Monica's work and quickly said, "I'm fine, really. Go ahead and see your patient. I'll just wait here."

"Sabrina, I heard there's a new strawberry drink at the Starbucks downstairs. Go grab one while I finish up, okay? I'll be down in a minute." Monica kept her tone light and coaxing.

Apparently, the nurse didn't think Monica heard and stepped closer. "Dr. Simpson, the patient's really mad. They said you've been drinking water forever."

Monica's smile dropped like a stone. Without a beat, she turned around and snapped, "I'll do whatever the hell I want! If they're that impatient, they can go somewhere else. I told management a thousand times-I don't deal with people who've got explosive tempers. Tell him to leave!"

The nurse flinched, caught off guard by the outburst.

But the other nurses barely looked up. Honestly, anyone who'd worked here long enough knew-Sabrina was basically a VIP. Whenever she showed up, Monica, who usually carried herself like some beauty queen, would switch modes and turn into her biggest cheerleader-ready to do anything just to keep her in good spirits.

So naturally, the two of them ended up heading downstairs together for that strawberry drink at Starbucks.

"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Sabrina's attention quickly shifted thanks to Dr. Simpson's chill attitude-less sadness now, more curiosity.

"Why wouldn't it?" Monica casually flipped her hair, looking effortlessly stunning. "He was never my patient anyway. I already told him to transfer hospitals-he wouldn't listen, so I had to be a bit tough with him."

"So, what is your specialty then?" Sabrina asked cautiously, her tone probing but tentative.

"I specialize in..." Monica paused just long enough to tease, letting Sabrina think she'd finally gotten a straight answer-then playfully tapped her on the head. "People like you. Scatterbrained but surprisingly sensitive. Forget a few things and start thinking it's the end of the world."

Sabrina smiled quietly. "You saw through me again."

She'd tried to fish answers out of Monica many times over the years. Any decent doctor should be clear about their field, and if she could just figure that out, maybe she'd finally know what was really happening with her own health.

But Monica was just as much of a riddle-neither her online bios nor her private clinic listings ever mentioned a specific specialty. Even her business card was vague: just the clinic's name, 'Neurology,' and a tiny dot... then 'Monica Simpson.'

Monica liked to say she'd become successful by being herself-drawing in patients with her name, not flaunting some flashy title.

"So, Sabrina, did something happen?" Monica asked like she was just gossiping over lunch.

Sabrina's smile faded, the weight from earlier creeping back onto her face.

They were already downstairs at the café. Monica didn't press her-just let Sabrina pick a seat while she went to the counter and came back with two strawberry drinks. Seeing that Sabrina was still down, Monica threw in a slice of chocolate cake, hoping it might lift her mood a bit.

She set the tray down and sat across from Sabrina, who took a sip of the drink. The sweet and tangy taste cut through her sadness like a reset button. Holding the cup in both hands, Sabrina looked up and pleaded, "Monica, can we keep this between us? Please don't tell my mom I came here today."

Every time Lynne even heard about Sabrina's condition, she'd get super upset. She might try to hide it, but Sabrina could tell-it always got to her.

"Sure thing." Monica sipped her drink like it was no big deal.

There's this saying-if you don't want a moment to feel all heavy and serious, you have to be the first to act like it's no big deal. That's the vibe Monica always gave off-completely unfazed.

"Monica, be honest with me. Did I forget something... really, really important?" Sabrina asked softly, her gaze lowering to the table.

"Like what?" Monica remembered what Lynne had told her, straightened her back, and set down her drink, her tone more serious this time. "Before I answer, you need to tell me what made you come here and ask me that out of the blue."

"It's not a big deal," Sabrina mumbled, not mentioning Cedric or Margaret. "Just... two people said something that made me feel like I've forgotten something-something big. And when they looked at me, it wasn't just anger. It was more like... they were really hurt. And it made me think-maybe I did do something bad to them."

Her voice got quieter near the end. That feeling-it wasn't something she could easily shake off.

She meant every word of it too. Sure, Cedric and Margaret were angry when they talked to her-furious, even-but deep down in their eyes, buried under all that anger, was sorrow.

That... that's the part that haunted her most.

Monica nodded. Between the two of them, one was definitely Cedric. As for the other, didn't matter much.

"So, what exactly did they say?" Monica shifted a bit, arms folded casually. "Come on, Sabrina, we don't keep secrets, do we? Like your first time with Cedric..."

"Pfft-!" Sabrina had just taken a sip of her drink when Monica's blunt words made her nearly choke. She quickly grabbed a tissue, dabbing at her mouth.

Their first time-hers and Cedric's.

Oh God. Just those three words and scenes from that day flashed through her head like a steamy, 3-million-word fic.

Monica looked totally innocent. "Why so dramatic? I meant your first time holding hands with him. Didn't you tell me about that? After class one day-you faked a dizzy spell and grabbed his hand, remember?"

Yep, Sabrina had totally overthought it. She cleared her throat and came clean. "They were talking about life... like, as in human life, I think. Their expressions were... weird. Monica, be real with me, am I in trouble? Did I do something I shouldn't have...?"

Her voice wavered by the end.

This was no joke. When it came to stuff like life and death, it hit different.

Even Monica felt her heart skip. Thinking back on what Lynne had said that night... yeah, this could be way more serious than she'd thought.

Otherwise, why would a mother who always wanted her daughter happy suddenly try to stop her from liking someone she liked so much?

But now wasn't the time to spiral into guesses.

"Sabrina." Monica sighed, slipping into lecture mode.

"Hmm?" Sabrina looked up, confused.

"You always doubt yourself. And me. It's kinda hard to stay close friends like this." Monica shook her head, playing the victim. "You asking me this stuff now makes me feel like you've never really trusted me at all."

"I didn't mean it like that." Sabrina immediately denied it.

She really didn't. It was just that Cedric and Margaret both mentioned it, and it felt off, so she needed to know.

"But if that were true, your first reaction should've been, 'I definitely didn't mess up,' right? Not running to me like I'm hiding something." Monica's wounded tone didn't let up.

She had that natural charming vibe, and with her history of dealing with men, she knew exactly how to pull off that "hurt and betrayed" look.

With guys, that move was lethal. For a softie like Sabrina, it was game over.

Sure enough, seeing Monica all bummed out because of her, Sabrina caved. Guilt surged, and she just apologized. "I'm sorry."

Monica had a point.

"Sabrina," Monica added while she had the open lane, "I know deep down you always think you're seriously sick, but come on-these days, being 100% fine is the real abnormal. Headaches, tummy issues, backache-they all count as something. So why freak out just 'cause your memory's a little worse than others?"

Sabrina lowered her head."I swear to you as a professional doctor, your memory is just a teeny bit worse than average. Like, the size of a third of your pinky nail. So seriously, don't beat yourself up. Besides, based on the evaluations I did for you, you've never forgotten anything major. I mean, you even remember your first time with Cedric perfectly. What could be more important than that, right?"

Monica raised an eyebrow, her tone turning a little cheeky.

Sabrina kept nodding along with what Monica said, but that last part? Nope, she wasn't owning up to that. "It was just holding hands, nothing big."

To her, just about anything else would be more significant.

"Come on, Sabrina," Monica corrected with a smirk, "I was talking about your first night with Cedric. You mentioned that spot on the inside of his thigh..."

"Okay, cut it out!"

Sabrina shouted, her face going bright red like a cooked crab.

Weird thing was, amidst all this ridiculous talk, her gloomy mood had quietly lifted.

Maybe she really needed to learn from Monica-learn how to stop doubting herself all the time. So what if she forgot stuff? It wasn't a personality flaw, just a small glitch in the hardware. And forgetting things didn't mean hurting others was her fault.

She got up and gave Monica a big hug, rubbing her cheek affectionately against her shoulder. "You're my favorite, Monica."

Monica curled her lips into a playful grin. "Ooh, hope Lynne didn't hear that."

*****

So that conversation was officially over. For the next few days, Sabrina stayed holed up at home and didn't step outside. Her mom, Lynne, still had no idea she'd gone off the rails the other day and visited Monica's clinic, which meant Monica had actually kept her word. Sabrina finally felt like she could breathe.

"How long are you planning to crash here?" Lynne asked one afternoon while lounging on the couch with a face mask on and munching cucumber slices.

"I'm not ready to go back yet," Sabrina replied.

"Hey, I'm not asking you to fly back right now. Just think ahead a little, okay? Or did you forget you still have that lab team? You finished 'Twinkle' ages ago and haven't done much since. You're still holding onto the rights, right? You may be fine financially, but those researchers? They've got bills to pay too," Lynne reminded her.

Honestly, her real purpose was to subtly nudge her daughter to pack up and leave. She'd had this vague sense of unease for days now, like something bad might happen, and she didn't like it.

But since Sabrina immediately said she didn't feel like going back, she didn't want to push it.

"Yeah, I know," Sabrina said, eyes downcast.

Cedric clearly wasn't interested in partnering up. She sighed-time was flying, and with winter creeping in, if Cedric didn't come around soon, there'd be no way to get the new product out by spring.

More than that, her patents couldn't just sit there. If Cedric didn't buy them, she'd have no choice but to sell to Pama. It wasn't just about her-everyone in the lab needed to eat.

That's how R&D worked. When you hit something big, you got a payout. The bigger the result, the bigger the check. "Twinkle" was a breakthrough, something you couldn't just replicate. It had taken five months of work-sure, she'd produced a few minor outputs here and there, but those didn't bring in much cash. So sure, maybe she had all these shiny patents, but that didn't mean she was swimming in money.

At least paying her team's salaries was still a real stress point.

But if Cedric passed, could she really go to Pama or someone else? That felt like teaming up with her competitor to crush someone from her own side. Just the thought of it made her feel gross.

Granny Strickland was such a sweetheart-how could she possibly...

Wait a sec, maybe she could go talk to her!

Gracewell belonged to Granny Strickland, right? Since Cedric took her goodwill as an attack, seeing him clearly wasn't gonna help-then why not just go straight to Granny herself?

That thought instantly perked Sabrina up.

Man, how did she not think of this before? She really could be so dense sometimes.

"Mom, have you heard from Granny Strickland lately? Is she still staying at the Strickland estate?" Sabrina turned around and asked Lynne, who was reclining on the sofa.

Lynne, who was mid-bite on a cucumber, got so startled by the question that she bit her tongue. Wincing, she ripped off her face mask and tossed it on the table.

"Mom? You okay? Seriously, you always rush stuff." Sabrina walked over, a little annoyed, watching her mom scrunch her face in pain.

Lynne's heart was racing, enough to ache a bit, but she forced herself to keep it together. "Why are you suddenly asking about Granny Strickland?"

"Just curious," Sabrina replied honestly.

"Look, Sabrina," Lynne said carefully, "From what I heard, Granny Strickland's not doing great. She's in a nursing home resting, so... maybe let's not bother her." Lynne knew her daughter too well-Sabrina wouldn't bring something up out of the blue unless she had plans. And this? This was what she dreaded.

"Where'd you hear that? Mom, do you still have ties with the Stricklands?" Sabrina asked, surprised.

"A housekeeper from their place told me. We still chat here and there. But what matters is-listen to me-don't even think about bothering Granny Strickland. Don't bring it up, okay? It's a touchy subject."

Sabrina could tell her mom's reaction was off. Usually when an elder's sick, isn't it normal for the younger ones to check in on them? But here, she was being told not even to mention it?

"Every family's got its own ways," Lynne added, voice low. "I already reached out before, and let's just say... the vibe from the Stricklands wasn't great. So let's not push things. Got it?" Each word made Lynne's heart thump harder. Lying to her daughter-her pride and joy-was eating her up inside.

Sabrina nodded. "Okay. I won't bring it up."

So that explained Cedric's bad mood lately. It had to be his grandma's health. And she? She just kept showing up in front of him.

With that realization, Sabrina felt like she had a connection now-like Cedric's cold attitude made a bit more sense. People get short-tempered when family's unwell. She could get behind that.

Maybe she should try just one more time.

Twinkle meant so much-to her, to the team. Every drop of effort and every late night spent in the lab, all for this. Only by handing it over to Gracewell would she truly feel at peace.

As she was mentally figuring out how to bring it up with Cedric again, her phone buzzed. Unknown number, but the message itself was pretty detailed-it was from a senior exec at the Pama Conglomerate.

It was an apology.

For what happened-when that guy from one of their subsidiaries kidnapped her.

The message hit all the notes: harsh reprimands for the guy involved, some over-the-top wording begging for her forgiveness, and finally, an invitation to a formal apology dinner. They really hoped she'd come.

Sabrina's first instinct was to avoid. She set her phone down like nothing happened and moved on.

But clearly, the other party wasn't going to let it go that easy. The next day, right on time, without even waiting for her reply-or caring if she sent one-a message popped up like she had agreed.

[Hi Miss Lionhart, I've arrived. The traffic must be a nightmare, no worries if you're running late.]

Sabrina was speechless. She seriously thought the people at Pama had skin thicker than armor. She didn't bother to respond.

About twenty minutes later, another text arrived.

[Not sure how much longer you'll be, so I've gone ahead and ordered. Wouldn't want to waste your time.]

At this point, she was practically choking on her disbelief.

Twenty more minutes, and ding-another one.

This time, there was a photo attached too.

The table was covered with nine different dishes-meat, fish, veggies, shrimp, even a fancy little soup pot. Alongside the image, a new caption:

[You must still be stuck in traffic. I covered the dishes so they don't get cold. I also ordered white truffle consommé for you-it's super dry here this fall, and I figured it must be tough to adjust.]

Sabrina was so annoyed she almost texted back something sarcastic. Like, was this supposed to be a comedy show?

But after her fingers tapped the screen a few times, she stopped herself.

She knew whoever was behind all this was likely just following orders from the company. No point throwing a fit at the messenger.

So she tossed her phone aside and swore not to look at it again.

By 11 p.m., Monica came back from her shift, grabbed Sabrina's phone to kill some time, and saw the whole message thread.

After scrolling through every single text, she gave a thumbs-up with a face full of sarcasm. "Damn, Pama folks... talk about persistence."

She was the only one who knew what really went down during Sabrina's kidnapping, so her words carried weight.

Sabrina sighed. Looking back now, part of her did feel a little bad.

Monica eyed her. "Listen, don't let guilt trip you. Sure, don't lash out at the guy, but anyone working for a company that thinks kidnapping is cool? Clearly messed up. And come on, you never planned to work with them anyway. Why stress?"

She tossed Sabrina's phone on the couch, leaned back hard, and stretched like a cat.

"But I do feel like..."

"Shhh," Monica cut her off without hesitation. "No buts. Go sleep, be good."

Sabrina pouted but quietly headed to bed.

The next day? Yep, another message.

Only thing that changed? The menu. Still nine plates, white truffle consommé still front and center.

It made her feel like someone jabbed a fork into her heart.

She told Monica again, who just gave her the same advice-ignore it.

So another day, Sabrina just powered through feeling torn.

Day three...

Same thing all over again.

She finally had enough.

Wearing casual clothes, Sabrina headed straight to the restaurant. She was there to shut this nonsense down.

Yep, nonsense.

Because the waste made her sick. From the texts, it was obvious-she'd been a no-show every time, but instead of packing up the food, they just let the servers toss it out.

If it kept up, she was convinced the food gods would punish her for letting all that go to waste.

She told Monica her plan and let her know she was already on the way. Monica just replied with a string of ellipses-guess she was speechless.

Sabrina tucked her phone away and rubbed her cheeks, prepping herself to keep a straight face and stay serious later.

But honestly, she felt like a sheep heading into a wolf's den. How could she possibly hold her ground against Pama, who clearly knew how to play social games?

As soon as she arrived, the two smooth-talking, good-looking guys jumped in-she didn't even have time to get a word in.

They were ridiculously tall, like straight out of a model catalog. Sabrina started to suspect Pama had hired professional models just for this.

They poured her drinks, served her food, practically spoon-fed her. It was painfully obvious what tactic Pama was using-flirt their way into forgiveness.

"Miss Lionhart, hope the dishes are to your taste?" the guy with the half-Western features blinked at her, trying the whole puppy vibe.

"If not, we'll order something else for you right away," the man with the more traditional Sinoa vibe added quickly, sounding mature and polished.

Compared to Cedric, though, these two felt like kids putting on a show.

"Okay, hold on. You guys really don't-" Sabrina tried to interrupt them.

But the traditional-looking guy jumped right in, "Miss Lionhart, we're sincerely sorry about what happened. The man who kidnapped you has already turned himself in and faces legal punishment. He worked in sales, and honestly, the recent online rumors have really hurt Pama's image... We're victims too."

"Yeah, Pama truly wants to make amends," the half-Western guy cut in, reaching for his phone. "If you'd like, I can call the top exec to come apologize personally."

"No thanks," Sabrina blurted out before she could stop herself.

Her head was already spinning from these two buzzing like bees-she couldn't deal with a third.

"So... does that mean you understand where we're coming from?" The half-Western guy looked at her with hopeful eyes.

Understand.

Now that was tricky wording.

If he'd said "forgive," she'd have said no, hands down. But "understand"? That was... complicated. She did get it. Everyone has their struggles. When flagship products start tanking, sales gets the axe first.

She did understand.

But if she admitted to that, they'd twist it into her saying she forgave them.

Sabrina felt torn. She'd always been the energetic type-so why the heck had she chosen a career in R&D? Days and nights in the lab didn't suit her.

But standing here now, she got it: compared to the chaos of real life, she'd rather be back in the lab with her beakers and vials. At least those wouldn't stab her in the back.

"I've got stuff to do. Let's just end it here for tonight. Don't ask me out again. This kind of thing just makes me more uncomfortable," she said, grabbing her bag and getting up.

They didn't insist. They stood and followed her out.

Once at the restaurant entrance, the half-Western guy offered to call a car and stepped outside, leaving her waiting inside. The other guy-Sinoa-style-pulled a car key from his pocket.

Sabrina's gaze instantly locked onto the logo: Bentley.

Her expression tensed, wariness flashing in her eyes.

Sure enough, the next second the man spoke, "Miss Lionhart, Pama sincerely regrets what happened. We also owe you an apology. We heard you just returned to Sinoa and haven't gotten a car yet. Please accept this gift."

"I can't drive," Sabrina shot back without hesitation.

"Miss Lionhart, that's not quite true," the man replied smoothly. "Two days ago near Center Road, there was a minor accident. A car drove into a flowerbed. If our intel's right, you were the one behind the wheel."

Sabrina felt her soul leave her body.

She really wished he hadn't brought that up. Just hearing it again made her want to cry.

That car wasn't even hers-it was Monica's. She'd borrowed it on a whim to go shopping, and bam, crash.

She hadn't sold her Twinkle yet and now owed Monica a pretty penny.

"Whatever the case, I'm not accepting it. Take it back. Does Pama always force things onto people like this?" Sabrina's eyes darkened now, her whole vibe screaming annoyance.

A Bentley, seriously? And given how eager Pama was to make peace, it clearly wasn't a cheap model.

"Miss Lionhart, please-this is just a gesture. Pama only wants to make amends," the man insisted, stepping forward, trying to press the keys into her hands.

Sabrina just stepped back again and again.

Honestly, if she were to accept it, no one could say she didn't deserve it. Being kidnapped isn't exactly a walk in the park-she was owed some mental compensation, at least.

But she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

She was one of those types: once she took something from you, she'd feel obligated, like you had a rope around her neck.

Just like back then-everything changed after she accepted a cup of milk tea from Cedric.

Back, back, back-until her heel stepped on someone.

She whipped around. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Then she saw those polished shoes. Perfectly pressed slacks. That all-too-familiar aura looming behind her.

It's weird how sometimes, just a tiny detail is enough to recognize someone instantly.

She froze for a beat, then slowly looked up.

Of course-it was the one person she hadn't spoken to since their awkward falling-out at Auburn Dining.

Cedric stood there, expression as blank as ever. Black and white suit, sharp edges and all-he looked less like a guy and more like a high-level boss in a spy drama. His features were knife-sharp, thick brows, and narrow eyes. Just standing there silently was enough to give people chills.

Especially now, with his eyes zeroed in on the guy with the old-school suit, radiating pure impatience. The kind that made him seem like he walked straight out of a martial arts drama.

Safe bet he'd seen the whole thing.

After all, if there's one thing Cedric can't stand, it's people beating around the bush.

Now that she ran into someone she actually knew, Sabrina figured he wouldn't just stand by and let this mess happen without doing anything. So she quickly stepped around him, parking herself right behind him like he was her personal bodyguard.

"Who are you?" asked the man with the traditional look.

It should've sounded aggressive. But one glance at Cedric's face turned it into just a regular question.

Sabrina could only sigh. These so-called "elite negotiators" weren't exactly doing their homework. You work for Pama and don't even recognize one of their biggest competitors?

Anyway, there was no way Cedric would lower himself to answer such a dumb question. That cool façade was hiding a mountain of pride.

It reminded her of back in college when Cedric had just started. Some new students, mostly girls, would keep whispering about him-"Who is he? He's so good-looking."

When someone finally said his name-"That's Cedric"-someone still asked, "So who's that?"

She'd shared the story with Cedric once, thinking it would amuse him, maybe even flatter him.

He'd just scoffed and said, deadpan, "If they don't even know who I am, I'm more interested in knowing what backwater place they crawled out of."

Looking back now, Sabrina had to admit-that wasn't pride. That was some A-grade dramatic nerd energy.