Chapter 107
City A, Flower Shop.
"Sir, you're here for flowers again? The usual three?"
The shop owner greeted him with a smile, her hands already expertly selecting blooms.
This customer came at the same time every day, always ordered the same varieties. She knew the routine by heart.
Matthew nodded, standing to the side to wait.
Daisies, sunflowers, and gerberas.
The owner wrapped them skillfully and handed the bouquet over, unable to resist adding a few words. "Sir, there aren't many men who buy flowers for their wives every single day. You're so thoughtful."
Matthew didn't respond. He paid and turned, disappearing into the twilight.
He entered the apartment building across the street, unlocked the door with his code, and pushed it open.
The place was quiet.
The balloons from three years ago had long since deflated, lying limp on the floor.
The banner had faded, one end drooping down, swaying gently in the breeze from the window crack.
He hadn't thrown anything away.
He turned on the light and set the flowers on the table.
He did what Evelyn used to do—conditioning the stems, trimming the leaves, then arranging them in vases and placing them around the room.
She used to do this all the time.
The apartment always smelled of flowers back then, faint and fleeting.
He never paid attention.
He never even noticed when the flowers were changed, when they wilted, when they were replaced with fresh ones.
Now he knew.
But the person who loved flowers was gone.
He looked toward the dining table, where they used to sit and eat together.
Three years.
He hadn't touched a thing here, still waiting for the day the mistress of the house might reappear.
He kept thinking it was all a dream, refusing to believe she was really gone.
He stared at the vase for a long time, then silently turned off the light and walked into the bedroom.
He lay down on her side of the bed, the side she used to sleep on, and closed his eyes.
Another night. Another nightmare.
For three years, he'd had the same dream countless times.
Sometimes Evelyn was sinking into the deep sea, icy water swallowing her whole as she reached out to him, and he couldn't reach back.
Sometimes a small child followed behind her. They said nothing, only looked at him.
He'd run desperately, but could never get to them.
When he opened his eyes in the morning, Matthew lay in bed, dazed for a long while.
Then he got up, put on his cold, indifferent mask, and left.
It was time for Limbo Inc.'s monthly meeting.
The conference room was packed, the projector glowing as each department took turns reporting.
Today's agenda had only one item: progress on Limbo Inc.'s acquisition of the Perkins Group.
Honestly, at this point, Matthew basically ran Limbo Inc. single-handedly.
Those who defied him had either been kicked out or brought to heel through his methods.
The monthly meeting was really just a formality—directors reporting progress, asking for approvals, going through the motions.
But today, someone raised an objection.
"Mr. Perkins," Director Flynn Parker flipped through the materials in his hands and looked up. "Are you aware that Miss Elikin is in talks with Dairy Haven Group for a partnership?"
Matthew said nothing, his gaze settling coolly on Flynn.
Flynn continued, "I heard that after Adam from Zenith Enterprises Group returned to the country, Dairy Haven Group was her first target for collaboration."
"Is it really wise for us to compete at this time?"
Sloane sat to one side, her brow furrowing.
She'd been quietly pursuing the Dairy Haven Group deal, not wanting other departments to know.
She'd planned to report to Matthew only after making progress, certain he'd be impressed. Somehow, it had been discovered.
"Adam from Zenith Enterprises Group?" Matthew asked.
"Yes, Mr. Perkins. Who doesn't know Adam is the Queen of Wall Street?" Flynn's tone carried respect. "With her skills, securing Dairy Haven Group would be effortless, wouldn't it?"
"For us to compete—wouldn't that be a waste of resources?" He paused, then added, "Besides... I heard Adam is Mrs. Gray's chosen successor. Making an enemy of her wouldn't be wise, would it?"
Sloane smiled, though the expression didn't reach her eyes. "Mr. Parker, competing on merit—how can that be called making an enemy?"
Flynn glanced at her but didn't respond.
The conference room fell silent for a few seconds.
Matthew's gaze shifted between the two, finally settling on Sloane.
"Since you've already made contact, see it through." His voice carried no inflection. "If we get it, we get it. We're not afraid of them. If we don't, so be it."
"Yes," they both answered in unison.
The meeting continued as if the exchange had been nothing more than a ripple.
But in Flynn and Sloane's minds, different thoughts churned.
For three years, Flynn had harbored dissatisfaction with Sloane.
Frankly, he thought she was all style and no substance, good only at office politics, nowhere near competent professionally.
She couldn't compare to Evelyn, who used to work alongside Matthew, much less to Wall Street's Adam.
He didn't think Sloane stood a chance of winning this competition.
Sloane, meanwhile, seethed with indignation.
She knew Flynn looked down on her, but this project was one she had to secure.
If only because Adam resembled Evelyn—she couldn't let that woman succeed!
Each harbored their own agenda while maintaining a veneer of civility.
At noon, after the meeting adjourned, Matthew headed toward his office.
As he passed the executive suite, he saw several people huddled together, heads bent over a phone, whispering.
"The resemblance... It's uncanny."
"She looks exactly like Miss Arden!"
He wouldn't normally care, but hearing "Miss Arden," he paused mid-step and strode over quickly.
The group remained oblivious, still clustered together.
"This young lady really does look like Miss Arden."
"Not just the profile—even her aura is similar. The image is a bit blurry, though."
"Yeah, it's a shame about Miss Arden..."
The speaker looked up to find Matthew standing behind them. Her face went pale, mouth hanging open wordlessly.
"Who looks like Miss Arden?" Matthew asked.
An assistant tremblingly handed over her phone. "It's a video circulating online. This screenshot went viral today. We noticed the woman in it bears a strong resemblance to Miss Arden."
Matthew took the phone.
Over the past three years, it wasn't that he'd never tried to find Evelyn.
But he'd been disappointed too many times.
Every time he thought he'd found a lead, it turned out to be false hope.
Those people didn't look like Evelyn, and their presence felt nothing like hers.
Honestly, he'd long since given up hope.
Yet hearing "Miss Arden," he couldn't help but take the phone.
He looked down at the screen, and his pupils contracted sharply. He froze completely in place.