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When Sylvia descended the staircase, she was adorned in a golden-tan evening gown. As she passed through the living room, she noticed that Lambert had already dozed off on the couch, a half-read novel resting on his chest. She approached and picked up the still-steaming cup of herbal tea next to him, walking over to the bar to pour it out. Sylvia instructed the maid to keep an eye on Lambert before stepping out into the night. Outside the villa, she slid into the back seat of her car and instructed her driver crisply, “Take me to Mr. Winston.” The driver nodded, steering the vehicle towards the towering office complex in Zion. Once at the building, Sylvia glided through the lobby, the security guards recognizing her as one of Alvis’s associates and offering no resistance. Unhindered, she made her way to the top floor, pausing outside Winston’s office door to knock. “Come in!” came the voice from within. Pushing the door open, Sylvia entered with a soft smile. “Mr. Winston!” Winston, having been pre-warned by his guards, rose to greet her. “Ms. Beverly, what brings you here?” Sylvia stepped closer, removing her feline masquerade mask. Her eyes glinted playfully, “Mr. Winston, have we met before? The first time I saw you, you seemed so familiar.” Winston’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her stunning features. Stepping back instinctively, he faltered, “Have we?” “That night in L City, at Nick’s exclusive club… don’t you remember me?” Winston racked his brain. He had indeed visited the affluent Nick’s private club in L City and shared a memorable night with a beautiful woman. But he was sure she was a lady from Y country, not from C country. Had he misremembered? Sylvia edged closer, backing Winston up against his desk. She leaned in, her breath brushing his ear seductively, “Yet, I remember you, Mr. Winston, and I haven’t forgotten.” Her voice rose teasingly at the end, sending shivers down his spine. Winston, now gazing at her exquisite profile, reached to pull her close, his breathing quickened, “My apologies, Ms. Beverly! How rude of me not to recognize you.” Sylvia

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innocence; her lips curled in a beguiling smile, “No need for apologies. I’ve been the one unable to forget our past encounter, longing to revisit it.” Her gaze smoldered, tracing a path from his eyes down to his slightly perspiring nose and parted lips as she leaned closer. Winston, though no stranger to the company of women from around the world, found himself losing all reason under her coquettish yet shy gaze. His heart raced, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Just as Sylvia was about to seal their rekindled connection with a kiss, the heavy door swung open. The stern-faced butler Huff stood at the threshold, announcing, “Mr. Winston!” Startled back to reality, Winston pushed the woman away, his gaze snapping to the newcomer. With an icy demeanor,

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