Stepping out of the vehicle, a sharp gust of freezing wind swept past, causing Chloe to grit her teeth as her frame trembled from the chill. Her gaze inadvertently drifted toward the edge of the open-air parking lot, where a man was standing in the freezing cold, smoking a cigarette. Despite clearly shivering from the temperature, he remained anchored to the spot, appearing to be waiting for someone.

The man was clad in a heavy overcoat adorned with a mink collar, rendering his presence exceptionally conspicuous amidst the sea of formally dressed attendees walking past.

As her thoughts swirled, a wave of comforting warmth suddenly enveloped her shoulders.

Chloe lifted her eyes to find that Julian had draped his own heavy overcoat across her form, leaving himself clad merely in a relatively thin suit jacket.

"There is truly no need. The entrance is only a short distance away, and it won't be cold once we step inside," she murmured, reaching up to remove the garment, only for her hands to be gently pressed down by his palms.

Julian meticulously adjusted the overcoat around her shoulders before wrapping his arm protectively over her frame: "Wearing an evening gown makes you exceptionally vulnerable to the cold. Keep it on properly. If you catch a chill and it disrupts our primary objective tonight, what then?"

Although Julian articulated his words with a structured strictness, Chloe understood perfectly well that he was simply exercising deep concern for her well-being.

Furthermore, she harbored absolutely no rejection toward this close physical proximity. This was not merely due to his assistance in investigating Zack's case, but rather because a profound, unexplainable sense of absolute security settled over her heart whenever he was near.

After all, they had shared their entire lives growing up as childhood companions; Julian’s position within her soul was destined to remain entirely distinct from anyone else.

Stepping into the grand lobby, a massive crowd of attendees had already congregated across the space. A collective wave of astonishment swept through the room the moment everyone witnessed Julian and Chloe entering in tandem.

Lest anyone forget, a man of Julian’s exceptional caliber and gentle disposition had long been covertly and overtly coveted by an astronomical number of prominent bachelorettes. Yet throughout his career, he had never once been reported to accommodate a female presence by his side, only to suddenly debut a female companion on this evening.

In absolute reality, it was entirely natural for none of the high-society denizens present to recognize Chloe. Throughout her three years as Eric's wife, Eric Vance had never once escorted her form to a solitary public venue. Their union had been executed solely to secure the corporate shares left by his grandfather, and at this juncture, it existed purely in name only.

"Julian, whatever miraculous wind blew across the city today to actually prompt you to escort a female companion to a gala?" As they advanced, a crisp, vibrant male voice drifted toward them from the center of the crowd.

Chloe tracked the sound, observing a handsome, refined man clad in a camel-colored suit jacket stepping forward. He wore a pair of delicate, gold-rimmed spectacles, radiating an aura of profound academic intellect and exceptional nobility.

She cast an inquiring glance toward Julian, who smiled warmly as he guided her forward, finally initiating the introductions: "Chloe, this is the Lawyer Vance I have consistently mentioned to you. He provided an immense volume of critical assistance to my operations while he was stationed overseas."

Turning his head toward his companion, he continued: "Avery, this is Chloe—Miss Chloe."

Avery narrowed his eyes slightly. The moment the syllables of her name registered within his consciousness, he appeared to experience a flash of stark realization: "Ah! It completely returns to my memory now. Julian, this must be that exact Miss Chloe you routinely resurrected in your conversations during our years abroad? Back then, you explicitly stated that the moment you returned to the country, you intended to demand—"

Before the sentence could reach its completion, Julian abruptly wrapped an arm over his shoulder, clamping down with an immense, silent pressure, while maintaining a perfectly serene, warm smile across his features.

Avery's eyes widened significantly from the sudden physical pain, causing him to swiftly swallow the remaining words. He rapidly altered the trajectory of his delivery: "Miss Chloe, meeting you in the flesh truly eclipses whatever reputation preceded you. I have already received a basic summary of your situation from Julian. Once the charity gala reaches its conclusion, shall we locate a quiet venue to dissect the details thoroughly?"

Chloe’s mind and vision were entirely consumed by the singular pursuit of securing justice for Zack, leaving her with absolutely no interest regarding Avery's aborted sentence.

"Then I shall have to trespass upon your valuable time, Lawyer Vance."

Chapter 25: As the City Lights Ignite

As the city lights ignited across the landscape, the official commencement of the charity gala remained on the horizon, yet the ambient atmosphere intensified in vibrancy alongside the gathering crowd.

Although designated as a philanthropic gathering, events of this nature were inherently inseparable from the realities of commercial networking and corporate exchange.

Julian possessed immense influence and was exceptionally well-received within this specific crowd, resulting in a dense stream of executives immediately pulling his form away to engage in professional socialization the moment he arrived.

Chloe remained largely unaccustomed to such environments. Consequently, she instructed Julian to focus on his professional obligations while she navigated her way toward a relatively secluded corner, cradling a glass of wine as she quietly absorbed the illuminated snowscape outside the expansive glass.

Tracing her gaze through the windowpane, she noted that the man adorned in the mink-collared overcoat—whom she had observed during their arrival—remained anchored near the entrance. He appeared to be engaged in a telephonic conversation, his facial features completely contorted into a display of absolute rage and frustration.

After a considerable duration, the man finally terminated the connection, directing his strides down a secluded pathway winding adjacent to the shoreline.

She took a shallow sip from her glass, offering the visual dynamic very little genuine consideration.

Absorbing the scenery for a brief moment, she found the display lacking in entertainment. Just as she executed an about-face to depart the corner, her form inadvertently collided with an incoming silhouette due to a lapse in strict attention.

"Whatever are you executing? Do you lack functioning eyes while walking?!" Lyndsey, who was rushing out of the primary hall, spat the curse into the air before she had even managed to obtain a clear view of the individual.

Hearing that deeply familiar, venomous voice, a cold, clinical smile etched across the corners of Chloe’s lips. It was truly a manifestation of the old adage that bitter adversaries are destined to cross paths along narrow thoroughfares!

However, the exact fraction of a second Lyndsey lifted her gaze to register Chloe’s features, the blood completely drained from her face, leaving her a terrifying shade of chalk-white. She pointed a trembling finger toward Chloe, entirely paralyzed by a wave of absolute shock and profound horror, incapable of uttering a coherent syllable for an eternity.

"You... you, you, you... whatever happened to your form..." Lyndsey looked as though she had borne witness to a literal phantom resurrected from the depths of hell, appearing on the absolute verge of unleashing a blood-curdling shriek.

Chloe understood with absolute clarity that the woman had simply never anticipated her capacity to survive the catastrophe and return to the city alive. The reality had shattered her composure, and in all likelihood, she genuinely perceived her presence to be a spectral manifestation at this moment.

She let out a cynical, mocking laugh: "Me? Are you harbored by an intense dread regarding the reality that I am still among the living, fully prepared to expose every single crime you executed behind closed doors to the light of day?"

Registering the acoustic resonance of Chloe’s voice and tracing the distinct shadow her physical form cast upon the polished floorboards, Lyndsey finally collected her fractured cognitive faculties. Noting that the high-society gathering accommodated a massive volume of witnesses, and a select few had already trained curious glances toward their location, she rapidly adjusted her demeanor, forcing her features to revert to absolute normalcy.

The intensity within her gaze shifted into an unreadably dark register, her voice dropping to a low hiss: "I never anticipated that your form would actually manage to survive that sequence."

The expression masking Chloe’s features was equally severe; she harbored a burning desire to see the woman standing before her slaughtered instantly, yet having been subjected to her calculated traps in the past, she recognized the absolute necessity of maintaining total emotional control.

However, she had genuinely failed to foresee that Lyndsey would possess the social standing to secure an invitation to a charity gala of this caliber; she was by no means characterized by a philanthropic soul.

"Does that reality bring you a profound sense of disappointment? Or are you consumed by absolute terror because of my return?"