Elena Laurent brought Adrian, now changed back into his own clothes, to the ninth floor of the private club.
That floor had been reserved entirely for Isabelle Laurent's birthday celebration.
The venue had been designed and arranged by an internationally renowned designer Elena had commissioned a month in advance.
Soft blush pink intertwined with pale gold, light and shadow colliding to create an atmosphere that was romantic, extravagant, and unmistakably luxurious.
As a rising star in the entertainment industry, Isabelle had invited nearly everyone of note—from minor celebrities to top-tier figures. Anyone who had received an invitation made sure to attend.
After all, this wasn't just a birthday party.
The chairwoman of Laurent Group was here.
So were executives from multinational conglomerates, heirs to old-money families, entertainment tycoons, luxury brand heiresses—any one of them could send ripples through Europe's upper circles.
Isabelle stood at the center of it all.
Dressed meticulously in a custom haute-couture gown, she shone brilliantly. Her long, softly curled hair flowed down her back, braided sections on either side adorned with diamond hairpieces that accentuated her already delicate, fresh beauty.
She moved gracefully among the guests, receiving admiration and compliments with practiced ease. Every smile, every gesture, was flawless—an image of a perfectly cultivated young lady.
Then—
Elena arrived.
The room's attention shifted instantly.
Compared to Isabelle's elaborate styling, Elena's attire was striking in its restraint.
A sharply tailored suit. Clean lines. Effortless authority.
That deep burgundy shirt—minimalist yet demanding—was something not just anyone could wear. On her, it appeared aloof yet alluring, coolly glamorous, unmistakably high-class.
But what truly drew everyone's gaze—
Was the man standing just behind her.
Adrian wore a simple hoodie and ripped jeans. Ordinary clothes.
Yet against his tall frame and striking features, the simplicity only made him stand out more.
Beside Elena's formidable presence, he appeared quiet and obedient—like a delicate porcelain figure—yet strangely, he didn't seem out of place at all.
The contrast was astonishing.
The gentle young man.The cold, glamorous CEO.
They fit together in a way no one could quite explain.
Isabelle knew Elena was beautiful. Standing next to her, Isabelle had always seemed a little overshadowed.
But the unfamiliar young man was different.
She had seen countless handsome men in the entertainment industry, but none compared to this one—eyes clear and vivid, as if painted.
"Sister, you're here," Isabelle said warmly, lifting the hem of her gown as she approached.
Her gaze shifted to the young man behind Elena, confusion flashing across her face.
"And who is this?"
Elena looked at the cousin she had protected for years.
The cousin she had paved the way for.The cousin she had supported into fame and fortune.
The same cousin who had later colluded with outsiders to destroy her.
Elena's expression remained calm as she replied evenly,"My boyfriend."
The words were casual.
Almost indifferent.
Yet they detonated like a bomb.
The surrounding guests froze.
Adrian smiled shyly, stepping forward just enough to be polite.
"Hello, everyone."
His voice was clean and gentle, like clear spring water—refreshing, disarming.
The room was stunned.
No one noticed the fleeting glint of amusement that crossed his eyes as he faced the crowd.
Boyfriend?
Elena Laurent had a boyfriend?
The same Elena Laurent who had rejected countless suitors without a second glance?
Isabelle froze—then reacted quickly.
"But what about Marcus—"She caught herself mid-sentence.
"…Then congratulations, Sister."
Her tone sounded sincere.
As she spoke, her eyes flicked toward Adrian.
Clean. Harmless. Young.
So naive he looked like he had never experienced the real world.
No wonder Elena liked him.
Isabelle dismissed him instantly.
Someone like this—Even if he managed to win Elena's favor, as long as she was around, he wouldn't take a single cent from the Laurent family.
Elena responded calmly, "Mm."
Isabelle opened her mouth to say more—
But Elena had already turned away, leading Adrian toward the second floor without another glance.
Isabelle stood where she was, her smile slowly stiffening.
Her fingers tightened around her glass.
This—
Was unexpected.