Shane strode past Seraphina and tossed his coat carelessly onto the desk. Without hesitation, he pulled out the chair beside Seraphina and dropped into it, his arm draping lazily over the back of her seat. "Hey," he called out. Seraphina remained focused, her head bowed over her exercises. Shane's brows drew together in annoyance at being ignored. His voice sharpened as he repeated, "Seraphina." The faint tension in his tone made her pause. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, her serene eyes meeting his. "What's the matter?" she asked, her confusion evident. For a moment, Shane faltered. The frustration simmering inside him evaporated as he looked into her clear, unwavering eyes. Clearing his throat, he blurted out, "Do you... actually like Theron?" Her expression froze, then shifted to one of utter disbelief. "What?" she exclaimed. "What kind of absurd idea is that?" The notion was so preposterous it almost amused her. Theron? The very idea was laughable. She hadn't liked him in her previous life, and nothing had changed in this one. Though Theron was undoubtedly attractive, he paled in comparison to men like Andrew and Thomas. And as for the man sitting before her now? Theron wasn't even worthy of standing in Shane's shadow. Shane studied her reaction carefully, the edges of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile. "So, you don't like him," he concluded. Seraphina rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Don't interrupt me with pointless nonsense while I'm working." Her train of thought, which had been flowing smoothly before his intrusion, was now thoroughly derailed. His smile deepened. "Understood," he replied. As he sat there, he couldn't help but find the entire situation amusing. Theron, strutting around and basking in attention, was nothing more than a clown. He wasn't even worth the effort it took to solve a single exercise problem, yet he had the audacity to act superior. The following morning, Linara sent yet another box to Seraphina. This had become a routine by now, and Seraphina, without much thought, accepted it. As before, the box soon found its way into Theron's hands. Day after day, the pattern repeated. Whether Seraphina personally handed the food to Theron or had someone else deliver it, the outcome was always the same. Naturally, the campus was rife with speculation. The persistent rumors of Seraphina's supposed affection for Theron grew louder, and many were convinced they were now an item. Yet amidst the mundanity of campus life, a new topic of excitement soon emerged. "Tomorrow is Lowell Group's 50th-anniversary celebration," a student remarked. "Are your parents taking you?""Definitely not," another replied with a shrug. "Mine are," someone else chimed in. Seraphina received an invitation from Zack. She barely glanced at it before passing it to Yvonne. Along with the invitation, she handed over a stunning dress, though notably, no jewelry accompanied it. Yvonne, unable to afford professional styling, spent hours studying tutorials online. With meticulous care, she styled her hair herself. Once she was dressed and ready, she stepped into the car Seraphina had arranged for her. Clutching the invitation tightly in her hand, Yvonne silently vowed to herself, This is my chance. She had to seize this opportunity and secure a powerful backer. Only then could she lift herself out of mediocrity and lead a life as glamorous as Seraphina's. "Miss Lewis." When the car pulled to a halt, the doorman promptly opened the door, bowing respectfully as Yvonne stepped out. For the first time in her life, she felt the intoxicating allure of prestige and wealth.As her eyes scanned the sea of impeccably dressed guests, she couldn't help but notice how radiant they all looked, adorned with glittering jewels that sparkled in the evening light. A pang of insecurity tugged at her as she glanced down at her bare neck and ears, suddenly feeling woefully underdressed. She followed the flow of guests into the grand banquet hall. The opulence of the venue took her breath away—the intricate decor, the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, and the hum of refined conversation. It was a world she yearned to belong to. Nearby, snippets of whispered conversations floated to her ears. "Do you think George Foster will show up tonight?" "He has to. There's no way he'd miss this." "Didn't the Lowell Family confirm it? It's him for sure." "I can't wait to see him. The man's practically a legend." Yvonne's curiosity was piqued. George Foster? The name was unfamiliar, yet it seemed to command immense respect. Judging by the reverence in their voices, he was undoubtedly someone of great importance. Her mind began to wander. What would it be like to catch the attention of such a man? The thought alone made her heart race.