Denis stepped into Starlite Corp with the calm arrogance of a man used to commanding attention. His sharp eyes took in the clean, modest interior of the office, far simpler than the opulence of the Beaumont Group.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. ’So this is what Augustine is proud of? Just a small-ti operation?’ he thought with quiet disdain.
A young woman seated at the front desk noticed him and offered a polite smile. "Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?"
"I’m Denis Beaumont," he said with quiet authority.
The receptionist stiffened as she heard the na. Murmurs rose from a few nearby staff mbers. The CEO of the powerful Beaumont Group had walked in himself—a surprise none of them had anticipated.
"I-I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier," she stamred, flustered. "Please, have a seat while I inform—"
"That won’t be necessary," Denis interrupted smoothly. "I’m here to see Augustine."
The way he said the na, as though speaking of a junior employee, made it clear he was close to Augustine.
The receptionist faltered. "Sir is currently out... he is attending a eting."
Denis already knew. He waved a dismissive hand. "That’s fine. I’ll wait in his office."
The woman hesitated, unsure if she was allowed to grant access to the CEO’s private space. But Denis’s presence was overwhelming, and she didn’t want to risk offending soone of his stature.
"The CEO’s office is on the top floor," she managed finally, hoping Augustine’s secretary upstairs would intervene if needed.
Without another word, Denis turned and strode toward the elevator.
As the doors closed behind him, a flurry of whispers broke out among the employees.
"Did you see that? Denis Beaumont himself ca here... What is he doing here?"
"Do you think he and Mr. Augustine know each other?"
"No idea," the receptionist murmured, rubbing her arms as if trying to shake off the tension. "But he is terrifying. Just standing in front of him made it hard to breathe."
The curiosity buzzed louder among the staff.
As the elevator doors slid open, Denis stepped out with the commanding presence of soone used to being in charge. Though it was his first ti inside Starlite Corp, he walked with the confidence as if the entire building had been built under his na.
Anne looked up from her laptop, stunned. Her brows pulled together in a frown as she stood up from her chair. "You?" she said with disbelief. "What are you doing here? You didn’t schedule an appointnt."
She imdiately reached for her planner, flipping through the pages to double-check—maybe she had missed sothing. But no, there was nothing. No ntion of Denis.
"I don’t need an appointnt to visit," Denis replied smoothly, arrogance dripping from every word. "Did the receptionist stop ? No. Everyone in this city knows who I am."
A smug grin played on his lips as if he were still at the top of the world.
Anne crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Augustine is not here, like I told you. He is in a eting."
"I’m not here for him," Denis replied, stepping forward and pulling a bouquet from behind his back. "I ca to see you. This is for you."
Anne’s eyes narrowed, and for a mont, she considered tossing the flowers into the trash bin. But she restrained herself. "I don’t need them," she said coldly. "Cut the theatrics, Denis. You are wasting both your ti and mine."
"I’m not chasing you," Denis said quickly, a flicker of sincerity breaking through his otherwise polished deanor. "I just want your forgiveness. That’s all."
Anne’s stare didn’t soften. Her silence was firm, her expression distant, delivering a silent ssage: forgiveness wouldn’t co easily.
Denis exhaled slowly. "I know you won’t forgive . Not now, maybe not ever. But I needed to say I’m sorry. I an it." He gently extended the bouquet again.
Anne hesitated, then took it without emotion and set it aside on her desk. "Now, if you’re done, please leave. I have work to do. And next ti, don’t co here without informing first."
Her tone was final. The warmth she once had for him was gone.
Denis lowered his eyes, sha tightening his features. "I was a jerk. I never truly saw how much you loved . I took it all for granted—your loyalty, your patience... everything. I lost you because of my own arrogance."
Anne didn’t flinch. Her expression remained composed. "That’s all in the past now," she interrupted firmly, her tone clipped. "Bringing it up won’t change anything. I’ve moved on. You are with Tania now, about to get married. Focus on her, not on what we had."
Denis looked up slowly, a faint flicker of desperation in his eyes. "Can you really forget what we had? Is it that easy, Anne?"
He couldn’t accept it—couldn’t believe that the girl who once loved him so fiercely since their school days, could walk away without looking back. Deep down, he convinced himself that Anne still cared—that her coldness was a front, that she was only with Augustine to provoke him, to make him jealous.
His pride craved the version of Anne who once revolved around him. He missed being the center of her world. And this ti, if she ca back, he promised himself he wouldn’t take her for granted again.
But Anne t his gaze steadily, her tone calm. "I’ve already let go of you and everything that ca with you. There was a ti I hated you for what you did to ... but not anymore." She paused. "Now, I don’t hate you. But I don’t love you either."
Anne’s cold dismissal rattled Denis to his core. Her detached tone shattered the illusion he had clung to—that so part of her heart still belonged to him.
His chest tightened painfully. A part of him wanted to grab her by the shoulders, to demand why she was pretending, why she was acting like everything they had shared ant nothing. But even in his desperation, he knew—pushing her now would only push her further away.
He swallowed hard, suppressing the storm inside him, and bowed his head slightly. "I’m relieved. At least, you no longer hate ," he said quietly. Then, with a tense expression clouding his features, he looked up at her again. "But there is sothing important I need to tell you—about Augustine."
At the re ntion of Augustine’s na, Anne tensed. Her spine straightened, and her eyes narrowed sharply.
"He is not who you think he is," Denis continued with urgency. "He is dangerous, Anne. I’ve done so digging. You have no idea what kind of background he cos from—he—"
"I won’t let you speak ill of my husband," Anne snapped. "This is what all the apologies and flowers were about? You just wanted to sow doubt between us?"
"Anne, I swear, I’m only worried about you," Denis insisted, his voice rising slightly in desperation.
"I don’t need your concern," she retorted icily. "Just get out."
"Anne—"
Before he could plead further, her phone rang, breaking the tense standoff. She shot Denis a glare that warned him not to speak, then answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Miss Anne, your father had a seizure. He is in the ICU. Please co to the hospital right away."
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