It was back to being distant and cold.

Meanwhile, at Royarid Club, Sanford sat comfortably on a leather sofa, dressed in a well-tailored black shirt and suit pants.

He held a wine glass in his hand, his handsome face appearing as if it were veiled in ice under the club's soft lighting.

His phone interrupted his thoughts, and when he glanced at it, his expression softened.

“Hello, Maggie."