Henry Walker! Grace Harding never, even in her wildest dreams, imagined that she would have the chance to see him again in this lifetime. She had only heard about him by chance, during a casual chat with the few old classmates she still occasionally kept in touch with. After graduating from high school, Henry Walker joined the army and rarely contacted his old classmates. Later, after his mother, who was a teacher, died in a car accident five years ago, and the funeral was over, he suddenly disappeared. Even the few classmates who still occasionally spoke with him completely lost contact. It was as if he had vanished from the world, leaving not a single trace behind.

If it weren’t for the fact that she still kept that one graduation photo where Henry Walker appeared, which reminded her from time to time, Grace Harding, after all these years—years that felt like several lifetimes—would have started to doubt whether she ever had such a classmate. And whether Henry Walker was really that prince charming her naive younger self had imagined.

Instinctively, she took a step forward, and the name Henry Walker almost escaped her lips. But in that instant, a sudden wave of shame in her heart forcibly held her back. Her face turned a little pale, her breathing quickened, and she stepped back, one step at a time. From a distance—just like in high school—she gazed at his profile from afar. Her hands, clasped together, trembled, almost completely drained of color.

Beneath that tombstone, it must be his mother, right? Grace Harding felt a pang of sorrow for him. But his expression seemed calm, without a trace of grief. He looked very different now; perhaps others wouldn’t even recognize him if they passed him on the street. But she was not others. With her keen and exceptional powers of observation, and the memory of him carved deep in her heart, she recognized him in that fleeting glance.

“I’m not that naive girl anymore. I—yes, I am Grace Harding, I own billions in assets, I have boundless confidence, I…” Grace Harding couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this kind of turmoil, this uncontrollable sense of uncertainty. She kept trying to boost her confidence with self-suggestion, just to be able to calmly go up and greet him.

“But if he knew everything I’ve been through all these years, what would he think? With his pride, he would surely look down on me, despise me. No, no, it wasn’t my fault. If it weren’t for—if it weren’t for…” Whether it was the ruthlessness she showed fighting for the inheritance against that old man’s children, or the domineering way she consolidated his remaining assets and eliminated rivals, or her invincibility in the business world, Grace Harding always thought she could remain cold and unfeeling. But at this moment, she was afraid—afraid that he would find out about all the terrible things she had done. Tears she hadn’t shed in years suddenly blurred her vision. She could only hypnotize herself: it wasn’t my fault, I just wanted to survive, I just wanted my mother to survive…

Suddenly, Grace Harding felt a chill surge from the depths of her heart, sweeping through her entire body. He turned his head, his calm and resolute face showing no expression, his eyes tranquil and indifferent. Yet her intuition told her that she was like prey being watched by a savage predator—if she made even the slightest move, she would be torn to pieces.

“What’s… what’s happening?” Never before had Grace Harding felt so small and fragile. It was as if an invisible force was pressing on her throat, making it impossible to breathe. Her hands and feet went weak and trembled, as if all strength had left her. Am I going to die? Overwhelming fear struck her heart, and Grace Harding stared fixedly at his face. In her tear-filled eyes, there was bitterness, confusion, but above all, a sense of release.

“Huh?”

Just as Grace Harding was overwhelmed by fear and panic, on the verge of collapse, a hoarse, puzzled voice sounded.

In an instant, the feeling of being strangled vanished. After steadying herself by holding her dizzy head, Grace Harding looked again toward Henry Walker, but he was nowhere to be seen. In front of the tombstone, there was nothing but emptiness. If not for the white lily still lying there quietly, Grace Harding would have doubted whether the scene just now had been her own illusion.

“Henry Walker!” At last, Grace Harding’s bloodless lips softly called out his name. She didn’t shout or search around, but tears, at last, fell uncontrollably.

Chapter Two: The Cold and Elegant CEO

……

Morning.

Bathed in the dappled sunlight streaming through the curtains, the completely naked Henry Walker crawled out from between two women who clung to him like octopuses. The raucous music from the first half of the night, the copious amounts of cigarettes and alcohol, and the wild indulgence with those two women in the latter half had left Henry Walker looking somewhat exhausted. After rubbing his face hard, he reached for a cigarette on the nightstand and took a deep drag. Only then did his mind clear a little, and he remembered that he seemed to have a job interview today.

He glanced back at the two women he’d picked up at the bar last night, both sleeping soundly after exhausting themselves. Henry Walker’s brow furrowed slightly, a trace of disgust and fatigue flickering in his eyes. The more thoroughly he satisfied his physical desires, the more hollow he felt inside.