Vanessa saw the opening and stepped right into it.
"Brother Zahn... I've liked you for a long time," she confessed, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. "You can be angry at me if you want but when I heard you were getting divorced…"
A faint, almost guilty smile touched her lips.
"I was happy."
She leaned closer, her presence now unmistakable. For a moment, the room felt smaller.
Zahn blinked, his mind sluggish, struggling to process her words.
Lianna…
The name echoed faintly in his thoughts.
And Vanessa, watching him carefully, knew exactly what that meant.
A man at his weakest was the easiest to claim.
The room felt heavier. The air itself seemed to press against his lungs.
Zahn's vision swayed as he frowned faintly.
Something wasn't right.
But the alcohol dulled the thought before it could fully form.
Vanessa watched him carefully.
"Don't think anymore," she murmured, gently taking the glass from his hand. "You've suffered enough."
Her other hand rested on his shoulder, steadying him or anchoring him.
Zahn tried to push himself upright, but his body betrayed him. His limbs felt sluggish, unresponsive, like they no longer quite belonged to him.
"…Lianna…" he muttered.
Vanessa's lashes lowered, hiding the flicker in her eyes.
---
Outside the room, down a quiet corridor, a man stood in the shadows, phone pressed to his ear.
"It's done," he said.
On the other end, a calm voice responded, amused.
"Good. Make sure everything is… well documented."
The man glanced at the door, where muffled silence now lingered. "Understood."
The call ended.
A camera lens, discreetly positioned, blinked once like an eye adjusting to darkness.
Inside, Zahn's breathing grew uneven, his thoughts slipped through his grasp like water through broken fingers.
"Lianna…" The name left him again.
"It's alright," Vanessa whispered, though her tone no longer carried the same gentleness. "You won't need to think about her anymore."
She leaned in closer but Zahn's instincts stirred, his hand twitched, weakly pushing against her.
"…no…"
The word barely formed.
Vanessa's eyes darkened.
"You really are difficult," she sighed, almost annoyed.
---
Tristan finally traced Zahn Neri's location.
Within minutes, he arrived with several men from Hexion.
The attendant led them to the VIP room but the moment the door opened—
Tristan stilled.
The room reeked of alcohol. Bottles littered the table and floor, some half-empty, others completely drained.
But no one was there.
Just the lingering aftermath of something that had already slipped away.
Tristan's gaze sharpened. "Where is he?"
The attendant froze. "I- I don't know. When I checked earlier, he was still- "
"Was he with someone?"
"I… I'm not sure… maybe… I didn't really see…"
The man's voice grew weaker with every word.
Frustrated, Tristan exhaled slowly as he smiled.
It was a polite, almost gentle curve of the lips, yet it made the attendant's blood run cold.
"Take me to your surveillance room," Tristan said.
The attendant nodded so quickly it was almost comical. "Y-Yes, sir! Right away!"
---
Meanwhile, at a brightly lit toy store, Lianna crouched beside Sean, helping him pick out a plush toy.
"Do you like this one?" she asked softly.
Sean nodded, hugging it immediately.
"Sis-in-law!"
The voice came out of nowhere.
Lianna turned, startled.
Saeki Jie.
"That… title doesn't apply anymore," she said awkwardly. "We're divorced."
"Ah- " Saeki coughed, scratching the back of his neck. "Sorry, I didn't mean to. Just… habit."
The awkwardness lingered for a beat. Then Saeki's attention shifted to Sean.
"Hey there," he said, patting the boy's head. "You know, I buy toys like this for my dog, Lulu all the time. She destroys them in five minutes, though."
Sean blinked, mildly impressed.
Lianna gave a subtle smile, unsure how to respond.
She had never been particularly close to Zahn's circle. While Saeki had never treated her poorly in the past, familiarity had never quite taken root either.
"It's getting late," Lianna said. "We should head back."
Saeki glanced at the time. "Yeah, same here."
Then, almost casually, "I can give you a ride, if you don't mind."
Lianna hesitated, she was about to refuse but then remembered that she and Sean were now staying in Sin Miele, at Zahn's villa. And at this hour, finding a taxi wouldn't be easy.
"Are you heading back to Sin Miele Estate?" she asked.
Saeki nodded, a little surprised. "Yeah. Wait… you're staying at Zahn's villa?"
Lianna nodded.
And just like that, the three of them left together.
At the parking lot, Saeki had just loaded the shopping bags into the car when a paparazzi appeared like shadows snapping into shape, cameras already raised.
Saeki sighed inwardly. This was normal for him but before he could respond another voice cut in.
"Wait- aren't you Lianna? Doctor Neri's ex-wife?!"
Lianna's expression cooled instantly and guided Sean into the car first.
"I saw your photos with Yeri Zhi!" the reporter pressed on. "What's your relationship with her? What do you say to the rumors that she's the third party in your divorce?"
Lianna turned back, her gaze sharp.
"Yeri has nothing to do with my divorce," she said firmly. "She's my closest friend and she is nothing like what the internet is trying to portray."
The paparazzi blinked, momentarily thrown off.
"Then what did Doctor Neri mean when he said he did something unforgivable?"
Saeki stepped forward, his tone turning cold. "Respect people's privacy."
But the two paparazzi only grew more excited.
"Then why are you two together?" one of them pushed.
Saeki's patience snapped. "What's it to you?"
The tension spiked but the paparazzi didn't retreat. If anything, their eyes gleamed brighter, as if sensing hidden fuel for a bigger story.
Saeki clicked his tongue.
"Just because they're divorced doesn't erase the fact that she was once my friend's wife," he said bluntly. "What's wrong with giving them a ride?"
The two exchanged glances. No scandal, no ambiguity and nothing juicy enough to twist.
Their shoulders dropped slightly in disappointment.
Saeki opened the car door, pausing just long enough to add, "If I find out you're deliberately spreading false stories, be prepared to receive a lawsuit."
As they drove out of the parking lot, the tension slowly dissolved.
"I'm sorry," Lianna said quietly. "I caused you trouble."
Saeki waved it off.
"If those guys have any sense, they'll know better," he said lightly. "Between chasing clout and paying legal damages… they'll pick survival."
He glanced at her through the rearview mirror, a flicker of curiosity passing through his eyes.
Saeki was, by nature, someone who thrived on gossip, the kind that curled around secrets and whispered truths. Right now, the question burned at the tip of his tongue.
Did Lianna truly feel nothing for Zahn? Not even a trace?
But instinct held him back since they weren't close. And more importantly, Lianna wasn't Yeri.
Yeri was easy to talk to, easy to tease, someone he could banter with endlessly without consequence. But Lianna, she carried a quiet distance, like a sculpture carved too precisely to approach without caution.
He remembered how she used to be detached, indifferent to the world around her.
Asking carelessly would only offend her. So, Saeki kept his curiosity to himself.
Silence stretched inside the car until Lianna spoke.
"Yeri mentioned before that the clothes I wore when I stayed at Shin Keir's villa… they were borrowed from you," she said.
Saeki blinked, then chuckled lightly.
"Ah, that?" he waved it off. "No need to return them. I honestly forgot about it. I just grabbed them from my sister's wardrobe anyway. She has too many clothes, she wouldn't even notice a few missing."
Lianna shook her head slightly. "I'd still like to repay you."
Back then, she had wanted to return them but it didn't feel right giving back worn clothes. And when she realized they were all branded, replacing them hadn't even been an option. She simply didn't have the means.
But now things were different. The divorce settlement had left her with more than enough.
This time, she could settle it properly.
Seeing the quiet firmness in her expression, Saeki said with a grin.
"Alright, alright. I get it, but don't rush it. Return them whenever you want."
Lianna nodded.
The matter, simple as it was, seemed to lift something small off her chest.
---
Tristan watched the surveillance and the more he saw, the darker his expression became.
Several men entering the VIP room, carrying Zahn out.
He also recognized the woman involved.
By the time they traced the location, it was a hotel.
Before heading in, Tristan turned to one of Hexion's members.
"Erika," he said, voice low and precise. "Scout the perimeter. Anyone suspicious especially reporters mark them."
Erika nodded. "Understood."
Inside the hotel lobby, the receptionist was entirely uncooperative.
Even after he explained their suspicion that someone had brought in an unwilling, intoxicated guest and asserted their right, under mafia jurisdiction, to conduct an inspection, the receptionist still refused.
"I'm sorry, sir," the receptionist said stiffly. "We cannot grant access. It would violate guest privacy."
Tristan didn't argue further and simply took out his phone.
Looked up the ownership details and made a call as it connected almost instantly.
"How much to acquire your downtown hotel?" Tristan asked calmly. "I'll pay double. Prepare the documents. I want it finalized within minutes."
The receptionists froze.
Their minds struggled to process what they had just heard.
Buy… the hotel?
Just like that?
Did he think this was some kind of supermarket?
They had heard of the Keirs' immense wealth, everyone had, but witnessing it like this was something else entirely.
Not long after, the reception phone rang, as if urgency itself had taken form.
One of the receptionists answered, her hands trembling slightly.
The voice on the other end exploded.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?! How did you offend Tristan Felan?! Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?!"
The voice on the other end of the line trembled with unease.
He had long considered placing his hotels under Hexion's banner for protection, yet selling them outright was unthinkable. Even if Tristan offered double the price, the prime location and steady stream of customers meant he would ultimately lose in the long run.
But refusing Tristan carried its own peril. What if he took offense?
The receptionist face drained of color. Behind her, the others stood frozen, their earlier firmness dissolving into panic.
Tristan smiled, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
"Now," he said softly, "shall we try that again?"