Chapter 213

The young man was Vincent McLaren. His heart had sunk to its lowest depths as he watched the investors-the ones who could turn his dream into reality-file out one by one.

Even the organizer's assistant, Sidney Johnson, couldn't resist a jab. "Ah, you're not the first starry-eyed entrepreneur I've seen. Better luck next time. Maybe you'll get invited to the next conference—if you're lucky." The light in Vincent's eyes dimmed further, replaced by an unbearable weight of despair.

"There won't be a next time," he thought.

His small company of six had scraped together every cent to get to this moment, betting everything on a single shot. And he had let them all down by fumbling at the critical moment.

Closing his eyes, he felt a grim resolve take root. Maybe it was better to end it now-jump off a rooftop, leave behind the judgmental gazes of his colleagues and the crushing disappointment of his family. But just as that dark thought solidified, a clear and melodious voice rang out behind him.

"I can listen."

He spun around, stunned.

Standing there was a young woman, her face exquisitely serene, her expression warm and free of mockery or condescension.

Her gaze carried the same gentle reassurance he had felt earlier in the garden, like a breeze through the woods-calm yet uplifting.

to respond. However, the woman-Felicia-had already stepped into the empty venue, taking a seat in the center of the room.

her chair, her white sweater paired with simple blue jeans, and an unassuming backpack entirely devoid

But Vincent ignored him.

stepped onto the stage and plugged in

his presentation with nees

determination, projecting his slides

onto the screen.

game. The graphics were stunning, and the

was the timid,

garden. Onstage,

every gesture spoke of his deep love for

never

he finished, the hall fell silent for

draining from his body. For the first time all day,

shyly. Gathering his things, he prepared to leave, content to have at least shared his vision with

going to

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