She headed to the office to collect her tasks, lingering there until ten o'clock, and then drove slowly to meet Miss Holt.

The meeting location, chosen by Miss Holt, was a stylish hair salon she had frequented since her youth. Over the years, Miss Holt had formed a deep attachment to the place, treating it almost like a second home.

Olivia had visited a few times before with Rena when she was younger.

Now older, she could truly appreciate the salon's chic decor.

As she entered, Olivia couldn't help but sigh; the place was a testament to capitalism, each decoration radiating opulence and luxury.

In her haste, she accidentally bumped into someone descending the stairs.

The person didn't move aside.

Olivia found herself unexpectedly in the man's arms, his large hand warmly securing her slender waist.

The contact was undoubtedly inappropriate. Just as Olivia was about to scold him, a familiar scent halted her words.

It was... Raphael.

It was really him!

The recognition stunned her, and momentarily, she forgot to pull away.

Olivia, usually so spirited and independent, found her emotions stirred only by Raphael.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when a deep, elegant voice broke the silence, "How long are you going to hold me like this?"

Startled back to reality, Olivia quickly regained her composure.

As she suddenly stepped back, forgetting she was on the stairs, Raphael's grip tightened, preventing her from falling.

In that moment, Olivia looked into Raphael's eyes.

His gaze was emotionless, devoid of warmth—-cold and indifferent, just like every encounter since they had reunited.

"Thank you," Olivia said, her voice polite yet distant. She then tried to move past him, adding, “I'm sorry, Mr. Jones. I have something to do. I'll thank you properly another day.”

She assumed Raphael had no desire to see her again.