Stella's smile brightened, but at the next moment, she saw Remington heading toward the exit.

Her surprise was evident as she pointed to a table nearby, "The candy is right there."

Without looking back, Remington replied in an indifferent tone, "I need to make a call."

Stella panicked, quickly standing and following him, "Remington!"

But he'd already shut the door behind him, a bit too forcefully, causing Stella to nearly collide with it.

His refusal to let her follow couldn't have been clearer. Stella frowned, wondering if Remington had noticed something amiss.

Outside.

Remington made his way to the terrace at the end of the corridor, bumping into a waiter carrying drinks along the way.

He casually picked up a glass of red wine and stepped out to the terrace. The breeze was chilly, and he felt an inexplicable restlessness.

Taking a sip of the wine, Remington glanced at his watch, right as Lizetta's show was about to start.

He turned around, his tall body leaning back against the railing which supported his right crooked arm, the wine glass swaying in his hand. He then opened a streaming site on his phone.

Just as the curtains on the screen began to part, a slight smile played on his lips. But in the next second, that smile shattered like thin ice, replaced by a sudden chill.

nowhere to be seen

her place stood a

of dread washed over Remington as countless details raced

man picked it up, Omar's voice came through, tinged with panic, "Mr. Dashiell, Mrs. Dashiell's

wine glass in

the wine mixed with blood dripped onto the marble floor, Remington

the hall as Stella, holding up her dress, approached Remington,

stairs, looking at him as he

of hope. But as he emerged from the shadows, his face stern and frosty,

went

eyes turned to them as

piano melody filled the

Stella forced

not to see

if she

are

her voice a whisper, "Remington, wait for

him, and her pleas couldn't make

staircase; they became the center of attention, yet quickly

confused, didn't know whom to

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