Verena slipped through the window, the warm breeze of the night embracing her like a silent accomplice. The transformation was complete—hair cascading freely, a scarf replaced with a sense of liberation.
She turned to face Louis one last time, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of determination and a promise of the unexpected. "Goodbye," she whispered, her voice carrying a note of mystery.
As he watched Verena disappear into the darkness, doubts began to seed in his mind.
Louis turned away from the window and asked himself, "I will meet her again, right?" With a resolute nod, he affirmed to himself, "I will."
As Louis's calm facade crumbled under the weight of the voices outside, a swift change swept over his demeanour.
With determined strides, he pushed open the door, his eyes locking onto Ariana, who stood up from the floor, offering him a smile that was more of a facade than a genuine expression.
The sight was an odd juxtaposition—her posture evoking the image of a beggar seeking a coveted treat, while her gaze held a calculated intent.
Louis's gaze, sharp as a blade, fixed on her, causing a shiver to ripple through Ariana's facade. She quickly averted her gaze, the facade slipping for a moment to reveal a hint of unease.
"L—Louis," Ariana stuttered, her tone feigning innocence. "We had a date planned for tonight, and I thought—"
Louis's voice sliced through her words, his impatience palpable. "Firstly, it's not a date; it's a dinner. And secondly, as I've already informed you, the meeting is unnecessary. So why are you here?"
Ariana's demeanour shifted slightly; her desire to appear meek and pitiable intermingled with her underlying stubbornness.
Her next words bore a mixture of curiosity and veiled jealousy, "...is this about the woman who was inside? The one you were with?"
Louis's gaze held a steely resolve, and his response was direct and unwavering. "Yes, that was her."
Ariana's eyes flickered with a tinge of frustration, the curiosity in her gaze mixed with the sting of unrequited feelings. Her thoughts raced, searching for ways to salvage her pride in the face of the situation.
"Did you get engaged to her?" she asked, her voice carrying an edge.
Louis's response was succinct, with a hint of exasperation underlying his words: "No, Ariana, I did not get engaged to her."
Ariana's gaze flickered, and a spark of realisation seemed to ignite within her. She hesitated, then tried to regain control of the conversation. "I just wanted to see who she was."
Louis's patience had worn thin, his gaze unyielding. "Ariana! This is not your concern. I've told you before that I am not interested in you. It's time you respected that."
The truth struck her, and the pain she had been trying to keep at bay surged to the surface. Her voice, laced with a mixture of hurt and frustration, rose.
"You know what, Louis? Fine. Enjoy your dinner with your 'contract' wife!"
Louis's back was already turned as he walked away, the finality of his steps carrying strong perseverance.
As he disappeared from view, Ariana's trembling voice echoed in the corridor, her wounded pride and lingering affections colliding in a storm of emotions.
People on the other side of the table listened and questioned each other. What they heard was true, and Young Master Louis was going to be in a contract marriage.
The door swung shut behind her, leaving Ariana standing there, the remnants of their conversation hanging in the air like the aftertaste of bitter words.
She didn't stand there but ran inside the room to see that the window was half open. "That bitch must have fled from here!" Ariana cursed and dialled a number.
"I need CCTV footage from 9 to 10 PM," she said to the security guard on the other line. "There's been a breach. Someone entered the room and may have escaped through the window. Hurry!"