Chapter 11
Travelers pulling suitcases hurried past, all with swift steps. Cersei, dressed in a trench coat, dragged her luggage out of the airport and stood at the curb. The autumn wind blew through her long hair. Dark sunglasses covered half her face but couldn't hide her striking features.
Three years had passed. The streets around her were both familiar and foreign. As she gazed at the city, her heart was filled with mixed emotions. She hadn't expected to return to New York. But before she could get lost in her thoughts, the person she was waiting for arrived.
“Let’s go, Cersei. I can’t believe how much New York has changed. Just arriving a step behind you, and I nearly got lost in the airport.”
Hearing this, Cersei was momentarily speechless. Getting lost wasn’t really due to New York’s changes. After all, no one would expect that Hurley Moore—CEO of Moore Enterprises, who had taken the business world by storm—had only one flaw: being directionally challenged. This was the same man who had entered Yale at sixteen, completed all coursework by eighteen, earned a scholarship to study in Germany, and graduated with honors in just two years while others were struggling just to finish their degrees.
But she kindly refrained from exposing him, simply agreeing, “Yes, yes, it’s all New York’s fault for changing so much.”
Detecting her sarcasm, Hurley pinched her cheek. “You’ve gotten so bold, even teasing the man who saved your life.”
She struggled to break free, but before she could, their driver arrived. She punched him lightly in dissatisfaction, rubbing her sore cheeks as she complained, “Come on, stop pinching my face. You’re going to stretch it out.”
“Understood, Master Cersei.”
Hurley took her luggage and placed it in the trunk. Though his words sounded conciliatory, his tone was pure teasing. He hopped into the car before she could react, pointing out the onlookers to call a truce. Noticing the glances from passersby, she cleared her throat and ultimately decided not to pursue the matter, opening the car door and getting in.
No one noticed that the phrase “Master Cersei” had attracted not only the attention of passersby but also of Louis, who had been hurrying toward the airport. He turned back in shock, but only caught a glimpse of a brown trench coat being gathered into a Maybach. A hand reached out, firmly shutting the door and blocking all outside views. Though he hadn’t seen her face—just a hand and the edge of a coat—he placed his palm over his chest, feeling the frantic beating of his heart. He already knew the answer. It was Cersei, the woman he had been searching for these past three years.
Three years ago, Cersei had left with a message severing their relationship, then vanished. Despite using every resource at his disposal, he could only discover that she had left the country. Beyond that, all information was inaccessible. He didn’t know which country she was in, how she was living, or whether someone with ulterior motives had appeared in her life. At this thought, his heart sank. Three years could indeed change many things. What he had worried about all these years had finally become reality.
Recalling the man’s voice from moments ago, Louis felt a complex mix of emotions. Such familiar conversation, such intimate gestures—during these years without him, someone else had surely filled his place in her life.
But it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. As long as she would come back to him, whatever happened in between, he could overlook it all. Louis only cared about the outcome. He just wanted her.
“Investigate someone for me. In as much detail as possible.”