At this moment, Grayson's mind felt like an atomic bomb had detonated inside, booming and exploding, leaving all thoughts shrouded in smoke, chaotic and unclear. Lena had already run out a long time ago, and only gradually did he realize it. By the time he chased after her, it was too late; Lena's figure was nowhere to be seen.
For so many years, she had loved him, experienced happiness, endured pain, and at the same time, felt profound despair. To Lena, delicacies were luxuries, LV was a luxury, and Grayson himself was the ultimate luxury.
For Grayson, he could manipulate situations in the marketplace, obtain anything he desired by any means necessary, yet he couldn't have Lena.
No matter how significant things were in the marketplace, they were trivial to Grayson. But when facing Lena, he was powerless.
Near at hand, yet far away.
She clearly hadn't forgotten him, so why was she with that other man? It had ended four years ago; why did she still carry his photo with her? It was utterly baffling!
Lena dragged her weary body, aimlessly walking the streets. She looked up, gazing at each towering building, each window, each bright light symbolizing a happy family. But where was her happiness with Helen? Sweetness and bitterness, intoxication and pain, waiting and possession had rendered Lena almost unrecognizable. She admitted that she hadn't forgotten Grayson in these four years. Every night in her dreams, she cried out not to let him go. Each morning, all that accompanied her were tear-stained pillows.
He was like a rainbow after the rain, fleeting.
Four years later, Lena didn't dare to hope for anything from their reunion. She just wanted to work hard, become an excellent designer, and take care of her Helen.
Grayson stepped out of the office building, leaning against his car, taking two sharp drags of his cigarette. Restless, he didn't know what word could describe his state other than that. He put out the cigarette, crushing it underfoot.
"Hey, come out for a drink!" Grayson hung up the phone, got into his car, and disappeared into the darkness.
When he arrived at the bar, Charles and Jack were already there.
"The sun rises from the west; you're voluntarily inviting us for a drink today!" Charles always had some witty comment.
Luckily, Charles didn't work at Grayson's company. If he did, he would have been banished to Africa by Grayson, never to return in this lifetime.
This time, the three of them didn't go to their reserved private room but sat in a quiet corner of the lounge.
Three dashing gentlemen, exuding an aristocratic air in their speech and demeanor, were irresistible to women. Their regal demeanor made many women shy away or hesitate.
Pure gentlemen!
Bold women kept flirting. Charles, with his flirtatious nature, occasionally blew kisses, eliciting cheers from the women. Even bolder women came over to clink glasses, and Charles naturally put his arm around them. With a beauty in his arms and fine wine, Charles lived his days like this.
Jack sat on the side, scrolling through his phone, a cigarette dangling from his lips, blowing smoke rings, feeling a sense of drunken stupor.
Grayson sat in the farthest corner, drinking one glass after another, unable to numb the anger and resentment in his heart. The chaotic environment, blaring music, flashing lights, and the scent of women's perfumes permeating the air only intensified his restlessness.