The man''s movements as he cracked open the crab were graceful-almost mesmerizing. He carefully extracted the delicate, fragrant meat, piling it onto a pristine white te before effortlessly cing it in front of Isadora.


    Rowena''s gaze flickered, unreadable, as she nced at the te. In the next moment, she looked away, masking her emotions.


    She couldn''t remember Abbott, even back in the days when he''d pretended to care, ever treating her with such thoughtfulness during a meal. Sure, he''d been generous-ready to spend his fortune at her slightest request-but attentive? Never like this.


    And Victor, well, he was someone of truly elevated status.


    Theparison left a bitter taste in her mouth.


    Meanwhile, Isadora was quietly savoring the crab Victor had offered her. Perhaps it was freshly flown in the meat was sweet and tender, and her taste buds were in heaven.


    Victor''s voice, low and casual, broke her reverie. "There''s plenty left. No need to rush."


    Isadora looked up, feigning innocence. "I''m not rushing."


    Victor reached over for a napkin and gently wiped the corner of her mouth, as if she were a child. "How old are you again?"


    With her mouth being dabbed like a little girl, Isadora felt her ears flush. She darted a quick, mischievous nce at Nte, who was grinning and waggling her eyebrows.


    Isadora snatched the napkin from Victor, flustered. "I—I can do it myself."


    Suddenly, Rowena stood up, her voice a little strained. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom."


    Their private dining room was tucked away at the far end of the Gourmet Terrace, down a quiet corridor.


    After washing her hands, Rowena emerged from the restroom, her thoughts heavy. As she made her way back, she caught sight of a man standing just outside their suite, cigarette in hand.


    Victor was leaning against the wall, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette between his fingers. He looked effortlessly at ease, his tall frame outlined against the restaurant''s glittering lights. The sharp line of his jaw and the elegant tilt of his head drew nces from every server passing by.


    Rowena had nned to head straight back, but as she reached the doorway, her steps faltered. She hesitated, then turned and walked towards him.


    "Mr. Fitzgerald."


    Victor tilted his head at the sound of her voice. His eyes were cool as theynded on her. "Yes?"


    Rowena swallowed, steadying herself with a deep breath.


    "I just wanted to thank you properly for the documents about Abbott. I know you only helped me for Isadora''s sake, but either way, I appreciate it."


    Victor''s aristocratic features were unmoved. He stubbed out his cigarette with deliberate calm. "Didn''t you already thank me earlier?"


    With that, he moved to return to the private room, his long stride unhurried. Rowena watched him go, then blurted out, "Mr. Fitzgerald, do you remember The ine Group from years ago? My parents attended the Fitzgerald Group''s centenary g—we had a lovely conversation with your family, with Dorian and Mrs. Fitzgerald.”


    His reply was cool and edged with impatience. "I don''t remember." Rowena''s brief surge of confidence evaporated instantly.


    She clenched her hands, unwilling to waste this rare chance to speak with him.


    "You''re right-the ine family isn''t what it used to be. Still, could I have your contact info? Maybe someday my parents could visit the Fitzgerald family again..."