Sitting in the car, Lynette suddenly realized she had referred to Arian as Mr. Csepel.
She wondered if he had found it strange, but he hadn't said anything. Still, the thought lingered in her mind.
Beside her, Arian sat silently, while the driver focused on the road ahead. Abigail had already gone to change and would meet them at the event center.
Though still within the estate, the venue was far from the residences.
Then, she felt something.
Her gaze shifted downward.
Arian's hand had intertwined with hers.
Slowly, she looked up at him, only to find that he was already staring at her.
She held his gaze for a moment, then wondered—how would he look without his glasses? Would it make him more striking, or would it take something away?
In that moment, she couldn't deny it. Lynette was lucky.
Arian's voice broke the silence.
"Since you have memory loss, this will feel like your first elite party. You might be nervous," he said, his tone gentle.
"If it's too much to handle, stay close to me. I'll be your wings."
She blinked, surprised by the warmth in his words.
"I understand," she murmured.
His expression remained soft, but his words turned more serious.
"Also,Your brothers are back, along with family members you haven't seen yet. I'm sure Miss Abigail must have already shown you their profiles," he said.
Then, he hesitated slightly.
"And about Leonardo…"
At the mention of the name, Lynette's memory sharpened.
Leonardo—the L2 CEO who always seemed so close to Lynette in pictures, making Arian look like a mere bystander.
She had once wondered if Lynette had been cheating on Arian with Leonardo.
The thought briefly crossed her mind again, but she quickly brushed it aside.
Arian's voice grew firm.
"About Leonardo—don't listen to him. I don't trust him. Apart from Daniella, the second person I suspected in your disappearance wasn't Kevin Gael."
His gaze darkened.
"It was Leonardo."
Lynette grew curious. "Why do you think so?" she asked.
Arian exhaled, his gaze steady. "There's a reason, but I don't want to say it. I don't want you to worry—it'll weigh you down."
His hand reached up, gently brushing against her head, tracing down to her cheek.
"Just be at peace," he murmured, looking at her intently.
His fingers drifted to her lips, barely grazing them. "I shouldn't ruin your makeup, right?" he mused with a faint smile.
Before she could respond, the car came to a stop.
He turned toward her window. "We're here," he said.
Lynette glanced outside.
Rows of cars lined the entrance. Photographers, reporters, and guests filled the area—some still outside, while others had already moved inside.
Her heartbeat quickened while she looked around.
Arian sensed her nervousness.
"Relax… I'm here," he assured her as the driver stepped out and opened the door.
Arian exited first, then stretched out his hand toward her.
She hesitated for only a moment before taking it and stepping out.
Flashes erupted from every direction as photographers captured her arrival.
She took a breath, steadying herself.
She couldn't afford to falter.
She had seen Lynette Daelan's public appearances—graceful, poised, unwavering.
She had to embody that now.
Head high. Shoulders back. Confidence unshaken.
Arian was about to place his hand on her shoulder, but Lynette spoke first.
"I got this," she said, lifting her chin with quiet confidence as she placed her hand on his arm.
Arian paused, momentarily surprised by the shift—but then, he smiled, relieved that she was comfortable.
She took a breath and began to walk, mimicking the poised, graceful stride Lynette Daelan had in the videos.
"Lynette, look here!"
"Lynette, over here!"
Photographers called out, their cameras flashing as she turned toward them, maintaining a calm and practiced pose.
"I am Lynette Daelan," she reminded herself continuously holding onto that thought as she entered the grand hall beside Arian.
Inside, a classical performance played—music filling the space in elegant waves. Some guests danced together, others conversed over drinks, laughter and chatter blending into the atmosphere.
The was the smell of wealth.
As Lynette and Arian walked through, the guests turned their heads, their eyes following her.
Arian leaned in slightly, his voice low.
"And one more thing," he murmured. "Not everything Azalea says is true."
She looked at him curiously.
"Ever since you got close to Daniella in the past, you hardly spoke to her. For a long time, I didn't see a true best-friend relationship between the two of you," he continued.
He exhaled, his tone serious.
"Anyone who wants to separate us—by any means—is someone to be wary of. Close your ears to their words. Some might try to take advantage of you now that you've lost your memories."
Lynette nodded slowly. "I understand."
Her gaze drifted across the hall, scanning the sea of elegantly dressed guests.
Then, she remembered Kevin Gael.
She searched for him—but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Maybe he isn't coming. That's good—his presence makes me uneasy. I don't know why."
Surely, it wasn't just because of his past with the real Lynette.
Lynette let the thought fade as she continued waving at the guests, maintaining a calm, collected smile.
Across the hall, she spotted Azalea—Lynette's best friend.
Their eyes met, and Azalea grinned, beginning to walk toward her.
Just then, Lynette's phone rang.
She glanced at the screen—Daniella.
Lifting the phone to her ear, she answered, "Hello?"
"Lynette, how am I not invited to the party? I'm all dressed up, but they won't let me in!" Daniella complained on the other end.
Lynette frowned. "What? I thought you were already invited since you live in the estate. Hold on, I'm coming," she said as she turned toward Arian.
"I'll be back," she murmured to him before heading toward the entrance.
But then—
The atmosphere shifted.
She noticed the way people's attention had suddenly turned toward someone new entering the hall.
Her pulse quickened.
She looked ahead.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Kevin Gael.