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Due to its proximity to the beach, aside from the star-rated hotels such as Linz, you can also find many stalls selling trinkets.

Enna Clark takes him along to play, exploring the small stalls along the way, walking down the sandy beach.

She spots an interesting Moonstone and is considering asking the boss if he can turn them into bracelets when she looks up and sees a Lincoln parked in front of a hotel. A waiter hurriedly opens the car door, and a tall, imposing man steps out of the car.

Even from a hundred meters away, Enna can feel the man exuding an aloof, cold aura that repels everyone. Who could it be but Baron Lawrence?

Next second, she sees another person alighting from the car.

With chestnut curls, creamy skin, this person is much prettier than Tiffany Clifford in the paparazzi photos sent by Tiffany Clifford.

One is imposing, the other is elegant.

Surprisingly, they exude a sense of indescribable harmony when standing side by side.

An odd feeling stirs within her, like something lodged in her chest, giving her a sense of discomfort.

On the other side, it seems like Baron Lawrence hasn’t noticed her.

Under the obsequious bowing and nodding of the hotel waiter, the two individuals enter the hotel in succession…

“Miss, are you going to buy it? If not, please don’t block my business,” the Moonstone seller, seeing her holding the stone for a while without intending to buy, becomes impatient.

Enna comes back to her senses and asks, “How much?”

“12 dollars each.”

“Can this be made into a bracelet?”

Seeing her willingness to buy, the seller’s attitude immediately improves, and his smile becomes more gracious. “If you want it that way, it can be done.”

After negotiating the price with the seller, Enna waits for him to make the bracelet.

She takes out her phone, considers for a moment, and can’t resist scrolling through her contacts to Baron Lawrence’s phone number. The nickname he forcibly changed from ‘Maniac’ still reads ‘My Man’. Enna Clark glances over the contact, recalling the image of them entering the hotel together. She purses her lips and dials the number.

The screen displays “dialing”…

*

Inside the Silversea Hotel elevator, the aloof man’s phone rings once again.

He checks the caller ID, his thin lips tightening into a straight line as the cold aura around him intensifies.

Curiously, Emily Goldsmith glances at him and reminds him, “Your phone is ringing, aren’t you going to answer it?”

Baron Lawrence’s mood is extremely irritable, with a suffocating feeling in his chest that makes even breathing heavy. He lowers his handsome face, unhooks his collar button in irritation, loosens his shirt, and ends the call.

“Ding——”

The elevator door opens.

He strides out with long legs.

Emily Goldsmith follows closely behind, stepping out together with him.

A hotel waiter leads them to a room, swipes the card to open the door, and introduces it politely with a bow, “Honored guests, this is our Presidential Suite. Please enter.”

No sooner has Baron Lawrence stepped in than his phone rings once more, showing the same caller ID.

Emily Goldsmith sees him staring intently at the phone screen, his expression as complicated as if he’s looking at Mount Everest.

Just when she thinks he won’t answer it like before, the noble man puts the phone to his ear and says in a low, muffled voice, “…What is it?”