Chapter 552

Sophia Miller pinched the hanger, her fingertips drifting between several dresses.

She turned her head and cast a slightly apologetic look at Vivian Bennett. "I always need to try on a few more to pick the one that fits best."

Vivian leaned against the velvet sofa outside the fitting room and sighed softly.

She locked her phone screen and looked up at her friend. "Alright, take your time. I'll wait here."

Sophia gathered a beige knit set in her arms and disappeared back into the fitting room.

The mall was noisy, the weekend afternoon always particularly bustling.

Vivian was scrolling through social media when a shadow suddenly fell over her.

She looked up and saw the unfamiliar man who had appeared beside Liam Sullivan earlier, walking steadily towards her.

The crowd flowed around them. Vivian didn't feel fear, but a prick of wariness still jabbed at her.

She studied his face—sharp features, a vague familiarity in his eyes, yet she couldn't recall where she had seen him before.

The man stopped before her, a perfectly measured smile curling his lips. "Miss Bennett, have you considered what I mentioned last time?"

Vivian didn't rise, only tightened her grip on her phone.

She met his gaze, her voice cool. "You went to such lengths to approach me. It can't just be for a few casual words."

A flicker of appreciation crossed the man's eyes.

He gave a slight nod, lowering his voice. "Miss Bennett is indeed perceptive. It's just... I'm afraid what I'm about to say might shock you. After all, some truths, once revealed, can be quite impactful."

Vivian's lips twitched, the smile not reaching her eyes. "If you know it's shocking, then perhaps you shouldn't say it."

The man seemed taken aback by her response, pausing for a moment before letting out a low chuckle.

He actually sat down on the sofa opposite Vivian, crossing his legs with an air of ease. "Miss Bennett has a sense of humor. But... don't you find Albert Sullivan's reaction to your mother's keepsake rather odd?"

Vivian's fingers trembled slightly.

Albert Sullivan—Liam's father. During their few meetings, the look in his eyes when he gazed at the jade pendant around her neck was indeed unsettlingly complex. Probing, distant, even a flash of pain. But what of it? What did that have to do with her?

She lowered her eyes, lit up her phone screen again, and adopted a posture of disinterest.

The man wasn't in a hurry either.

He pulled a plain white business card from his suit's inner pocket and gently placed it on the armrest beside Vivian. "If Miss Bennett ever wants to know, feel free to contact me anytime."

With that, he stood up, his figure quickly disappearing into the flowing crowd of the mall.

Vivian stared at the business card, her brow furrowed.

This man appeared each time, said a few ambiguous things, and then left. What did he really want? What did he hope to gain from her?

After a moment's hesitation, she reached out, picked up the card, and tucked it into a compartment of her small bag.

When Sophia finally emerged carrying shopping bags, Vivian's phone rang.

The screen displayed "Liam Sullivan."

She answered. The man's deep voice came through the receiver, like a warm current laced with electricity. "Where are you?"

Vivian unconsciously pressed her lips together. "Times Square. About to head back."

A very soft laugh came from the other end. "I'm passing by. I'll pick you up."

The call ended, crisp and decisive.

Vivian turned to Sophia. Before she could speak, her friend was already waving her hands. "No, I'm not playing third wheel. Besides, my wattage is too low to illuminate you two."

The drive from Sullivan Group to Times Square took only ten minutes.

The black sedan glided to the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Liam Sullivan's sharply defined profile.

Vivian opened the door and got in, fastening her seatbelt as she asked, "Meeting over?"

"Yes." Liam signaled and merged into the main road. "Oliver Winston and the others invited me for golf. Haven't hung out in a while. Want to come along?"

Vivian's ears suddenly felt warm.

The memory of him pulling her into his arms and kissing her in front of his friends at the club last time crashed into her mind without warning.

She turned her face to look out the window. Her slightly flushed cheeks were reflected in the glass.