A private members' club, discreet and exclusive, frequented by Europe's upper circles.
Elena Laurent's gaze settled on the young man standing quietly by the window.
He was dressed in a waiter's uniform, posture straight, expression calm.
And impossibly handsome.
Clear eyes. Clean features. Youthful, yet restrained.
There was a rare clarity about him—someone who had been tempered by life's mundanity but had never been dulled by it. He didn't chase spring pleasures, wasn't disturbed by summer noise, felt no melancholy in autumn winds, nor sentimentality toward winter snow. Wealth, power, attention—none of it seemed capable of stirring him.
Under her steady gaze, he grew slightly flustered.
He lowered his head instinctively, lashes dropping, soft curls falling against his forehead. The small movement made him look extraordinarily gentle.
Like a well-behaved puppy, waiting to be patted.
Standing before her now, he was even more striking than the small photo on the student ID she had once held in her hands in her previous life.
That night—
After the ambush.After the chaos.After she woke up alone.
He had vanished without a trace.
All that remained was a student card.
She searched for him afterward, only to be told he had withdrawn from school.
Much later, Isabelle had told her, almost casually—
He's dead.
They had destroyed her.
And they hadn't spared him either—someone who had been dragged into the mess for no reason at all.
Elena's fingers tightened slightly. A sudden urge for a cigarette rose in her chest.
"Your name is Adrian."
She took out a cigarette as she spoke.
The young man looked up in surprise when she called him by name.
Their eyes met for a brief moment.
Then he quickly lowered his head again, nodding softly.
"…Yes."
Everyone who worked in the club used aliases. Even the manager rarely bothered remembering real names.
For a stranger—someone he had never met—to call out his real name so precisely…
A subtle glint flashed through Adrian's lowered eyes.
Elena spoke slowly, evenly.
"My name is Elena Laurent. I'm the chairwoman of Laurent Group. I have a proposal to discuss with you."
He looked up again. "What kind of proposal?"
"I need someone to act as my boyfriend," she said calmly. "You're suitable. I'm formally offering you the position. As for compensation—you decide."
Her tone was composed, businesslike.
Dominant.
Almost ruthless.
And yet—
The chairwoman of Laurent Group, whose admirers could fill entire ballrooms, was offering to hire a boyfriend?
Adrian stared at her, disbelief flickering across his face.
"Why me?" he asked, his voice carrying an unmistakable trace of youthful sincerity.
As he spoke, he coughed lightly, once… twice. The scent of smoke irritated his throat, and his complexion paled slightly.
Noticing this, Elena extinguished the cigarette without hesitation.
"I have money," she said simply. "You need money."
According to the information she had reviewed—
His parents were divorced.He lived with relatives who barely tolerated him.His education and living expenses relied entirely on scholarships and part-time work.
Recently, his relatives had demanded a large sum of money—claiming it was repayment for "raising him"—because their own son was getting married.
That was why he was working here.
Her explanation was straightforward, devoid of contempt or pity. Just facts.
She was serious.
Adrian fell silent for a long moment.
Then, accepting reality with quiet pragmatism, he answered softly, "Alright."
After they added each other's contact information, Elena sent him a document.
"This is the employment agreement," she said. "Please review the scope of work, responsibilities, and boundaries. Let me know if you have any questions."
Adrian was startled.
The agreement was private—but meticulous. Professional. Clear about limits. Clear about consent.
He scanned it quickly.
"No issues."
"Can you start immediately?" Elena asked.
"Yes."
She stood and motioned for him to follow.
As he watched her walk ahead, a faint smile curved Adrian's lips.
Laurent Group.
Elena Laurent.
…Interesting.
Across the room, the club manager stared blankly as he watched Elena leave with Adrian.
He was still trying to remember when this waiter had been hired—why he had no impression at all—when the club administrator rushed over.
The administrator pointed at the window.
"The person who was standing there just now—did you see him?"
The manager blinked.
Wasn't that the man President Laurent had just taken away?
So… had the administrator hired him?
He explained the situation.
The administrator's expression immediately became complicated.
"Voluntarily?" he repeated slowly. "He left with her… willingly?"
The manager nodded.
The administrator fell silent.
Something about this—
Didn't feel right at all.