High rewards filled the forum page. Allison wasted no time scanning the listings for information on the snake bracelet—a search she'd performed countless times. The forum contained a bit of everything, but the snake bracelet remained as elusive as a shadow at dusk. As expected, there were no new clues.
With a sigh, Allison closed her laptop and took a deep breath. To say she wasn't disappointed would be a lie. The bracelet was her mother's only memento, and the only clue in her quest to discover the truth about her parents. Then there was the Charisma Company.
Her fingers drummed softly on the desk, a habitual gesture when deep in thought or restless. Years ago, Charisma's enigmatic CEO had anonymously submitted a fragrance to the International Perfumery Competition. The scent was peculiar: cold and distant, yet enveloped in a delicate orchid fragrance. The mix of icy and warm notes resonated with Allison, evoking memories of her mother's signature style. She couldn't believe it was a coincidence. She wouldn't let this lead slip away.
"The fourth International Perfume Competition, huh?" Allison murmured, feeling tired. Competing meant putting herself in the spotlight, which was risky. But if it meant getting closer to the truth about her parents, she had no choice.
He looked out the window at the city lights, blotting out the stars and leaving only a bright full moon. Clearly, he'd been working late. He stretched and decided to shower and sleep. But as he looked at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window, a disturbing thought struck him: Where was the necklace? Had she lost it?
Frowning, she searched her memory. The last time she'd seen it was that night—that crazy night with Kellan. He'd disappeared since. Recalling the chaos of that night, where even her clothes were torn, it was no surprise the necklace was gone. Annoyed, she clenched her jaw and muttered, "That jerk!" Fortunately, it was a simple necklace, nothing of real value; no one could trace her through it.
In Athton, on Saturday, Emanuel avoided the city's hustle and bustle, preferring the tranquility of the picturesque village, where almost every household was dedicated to pottery. The earthy aroma of clay filled the air, creating a relaxing atmosphere. Her garden was serene, with roses climbing the pergola and sunlight filtering through the trees.
The first thing Allison saw was a man in a wheelchair surrounded by greenery. Kellan sat quietly on the windowsill, two cats curled up beside him, engrossed in shaping a delicate clay vase. Though Kellan had a reputation for being temperamental and intimidating, his striking good looks—sharp eyebrows, piercing eyes, and chiseled features—were softened by the serenity. A small mole on his throat added an unexpected touch of sensuality. At that moment, however, he exuded a calm, focused demeanor, the smooth clay transforming beneath his skilled hands, giving him an unexpectedly gentle presence.
Allison shook her head, struggling to reconcile "gentle" and Kellan.
"Hello, Mr. Lloyd," Allison greeted him coldly. They had met before, so she wasn't surprised to find him here, as Emanuel had mentioned.
Kellan noticed her immediately, but remained silent until she spoke.
"Long time no see. Happy divorce, by the way."
"Most people wouldn't congratulate someone like that."
"But for you, it's a blessing in disguise," Kellan commented, his eyes still fixed on the clay. "After all, Colton was never a match for you."
In Allison's eyes, Colton was weak, unreliable, and lacking judgment and taste.