Suddenly, the room's door swung open.

A young man, around 25 and towering above 1.8 meters, stood framed in the doorway. Clad in a chic turtleneck and tailored trousers, he draped his jacket over one arm.

With a handsome face framed by gold-rimmed glasses, he scanned the room. His gaze briefly settled on Bettie as he inquired, “What were you discussing moments ago?"

Upon spotting the figure by the doorway, Bettie's eyes widened, and her body tensed up.

For a moment, her thoughts evaporated; he was the only one in her eyes.

Sabrina nudged Bettie gently.

Being astute, she picked up on the unspoken tension between Bettie and Lance.

Bettie snapped back to reality, quickly averting her eyes, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

She hadn't anticipated that even after all this time, he could still unsettle her so effortlessly.

How she wished she could wipe away every memory of their shared past, pretending as though he were a stranger to her.

There was a moment of silence in the room.

Finally, someone broke the silence, exclaiming, “Lance, you truly returned? I thought it was just a rumor!"

“Lance! When did you get back?"

“Grab a seat over here!"

A woman's voice echoed from the doorway. "What's all the chatter about?

I invited Lance. Naturally, he'll sit beside me, right, Lance?"

The lady emerged next to Lance, gazing up at him affectionately.

Her makeup was impeccable, her ears adorned with oversized hoops, a glitzy necklace draped around her neck, and cascading wavy hair. Draped in a lavish mink coat, she radiated affluence.

Everyone looked at the two of them, and someone whistled.

Some shot mischievous glances Bettie's way.