Leh Ying stepped out of the shower, changed into clean clothes, her hair half-dry and loosely draped, opening the door only to find a maid waiting outside the room in the villa so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Barefoot, she stepped on the carpeted corridor, peeking downstairs to see if the place was indeed empty.
Indeed, the ashtray in the living room was spick-and-span, including the absence of the man's figure.
Looking at the decoration style, it was clearly a dark and luxurious mansion; gazing at the Baroque red frescoes that draped from the dome, she could almost taste the sweetness of red velvet cake, this was another side of Chicago, a place drowned in glitz and glamor.
"Where is Mr. Xu?" she asked.
The maid replied, "They've already left, probably no time."
"Then I..." she began to ask.
