Lucian furrowed his brows, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "Am I seeing things again? Once or twice wouldn't bother me, but this has been going on for two days. I keep seeing her figure in different places—a fleeting silhouette leaving no trace."

He snorted coldly, then retracted his gaze. "I must be going mad. That's why I'm thinking of her again."

Meanwhile, Cayden had been waiting patiently. Seeing Lucian remain motionless, he asked carefully, "Mr. Farwell, our client has been waiting. Aren't we going in?"

Lucian closed his eyes, composing himself before replying calmly, "Let's go."

He strode into the building, Cayden close behind.

When Roxanne and Colby arrived at the private room, all the research institute employees were already present. Colby seated Roxanne in the main chair, taking the one beside her. After settling in, he introduced her: "Many of you have met Dr. Jarvis, but I'd like to formally introduce her to everyone."

Everyone turned to Roxanne, who nodded in greeting.

"This is Roxanne Jarvis. Please address her as Dr. Jarvis. You may not be familiar with this name, but you'll know her former name used abroad: Janet, Professor Lambert's top student."

The room was stunned. Respect filled their eyes as they recovered from their surprise. Janet—a name synonymous with the medical field, particularly well-known internationally. Rumor had it she inherited eighty percent of Harvey's skill, a role model for the younger generation. They had envisioned a serious, bespectacled academic with short hair. Instead, they saw a beautiful woman.

Several admirers quickly rose.

"Are you really Janet? I admire you! I've read all your theses. You're my idol!"

"It's an honor to be your colleague, Dr. Jarvis!"

Sincere compliments poured forth.

Roxanne smiled, exchanging glances with everyone. "Thank you. Here's to a fruitful collaboration." She raised her glass. The others followed suit, downing their drinks.

Roxanne's friendly demeanor charmed everyone. The meal was pleasant and cheerful, with many toasting her. Her high alcohol tolerance was tested, however, by the numerous toasts. Before she knew it, she felt tipsy.

As the dinner neared its end, Roxanne excused herself to the restroom. Returning to the private room, her phone vibrated. A message from her children asking about her return home brought a heartwarming smile to her face. As she paused to reply, someone bumped harshly into her shoulder, nearly knocking her phone from her hand.

Roxanne gripped her phone, apologizing, "I'm sorry—"

Before she could finish, the man angrily retorted, "Are you blind? Damn it! What a mood killer!" The stench of alcohol reached her.

Roxanne frowned and discreetly distanced herself. Upon seeing her face clearly, the drunkard stopped scolding and gaped at her beauty.

(Note: I removed the promotional message. I also replaced some informal phrasing ("D*mn it") with more suitable alternatives. The level of detail about the alcohol tolerance and the toasting felt slightly excessive, but I left it as it was in the original.)