A faint crease appeared between Lara’s brows.
Beatrice was the last person she expected to see in Calma—especially entering one of Garden Café’s secluded private rooms at this hour.
The sight unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
Was it rely coincidence?
Or was Beatrice involved in sothing far deeper than Lara realized?
Before she could dwell on the thought, a man in his early forties approached her from the garden pathway. Despite the humid evening air, he wore a neatly pressed charcoal-gray suit. His polished leather shoes clicked softly against the stone pavent as he stopped before her.
"Miss Larissa Reyes?" he asked courteously.
Lara turned toward him, her expression composed.
"Yes?"
The man offered a polite smile, though it seed oddly stiff, as if carefully practiced.
"Mr. Lionel Brookes has been expecting you." He gestured toward the dim corridor leading deeper into the café. "Please follow ."
Lara hesitated briefly before nodding.
As she followed behind him, the warm atmosphere of the café slowly faded into a quieter, more secluded silence. The corridor was lined with elegant wooden doors, each leading to a private dining room. Soft music drifted faintly from hidden speakers while muted conversations leaked through the walls like fragnted secrets.
Then they passed the room where she had seen Beatrice enter.
The door was not completely shut. Just slightly ajar.
Lara’s curiosity sharpened instantly.
Her steps slowed as she subtly turned her head and glanced through the narrow opening.
Inside, Beatrice sat alone beneath the amber glow of a hanging lamp. Her posture was rigid, fingers tightly wrapped around a glass of wine. She kept glancing toward the door every few seconds, as though anxiously waiting for soone important.
Lara’s frown deepened.
"Who is she eting here?" she murmured under her breath.
She knew it was not her place to pry into another person’s affairs. But sothing about Beatrice’s presence felt... wrong.
Like a warning she could not yet understand. Perhaps it was instinct. Or perhaps it was the sa strange premonition that had saved her more than once before.
Lara’s footsteps slowed even further.
"...That woman has been waiting for quite a while now," a waiter whispered nearby, unaware she could hear him. "Do you think her date’s still coming? That’s honestly pitiful."
"Keep your voice down," another waiter snapped quietly. "Do you want to lose your job?"
The first waiter imdiately fell silent.
Lara withdrew her gaze from the room and continued walking, though unease had already begun curling tightly in her chest.
"We’re here."
The man escorting her stopped before the last private room in the hallway and pushed the door open.
Inside, a gray-haired man was already waiting.
The mont Lara saw him, she understood why his voice over the phone had sounded exhausted.
Lionel Brookes looked far older than forty-eight.
Deep worry lines marked his forehead, and dark shadows hung beneath his eyes as though sleep had abandoned him for weeks. His fingers gripped the edge of the table tightly before he hurriedly stood upon hearing the door open.
But instead of greeting Lara imdiately, his eyes darted past her shoulder.
Searching. Expecting soone else.
When he realized she had arrived alone, sothing flickered across his face—disappointnt... or perhaps dread.
"You’re Larissa Reyes?" he asked carefully, his voice unsteady, almost as if he hoped she would deny it.
"Yes, I am," Lara replied warmly.
She stepped forward and extended her hand gracefully.
"It’s a pleasure to et you, Mr. Lionel Brookes."
Lionel stared at her for half a second before taking her hand.
He blinked in surprise.
Her handshake was firm without being aggressive, her palm warm and steady—a stark contrast to the composed but youthful woman standing before him.
"I didn’t realize," Lionel admitted slowly, "that the person I’ve been speaking with all this ti was... this young."
Though subtle, the disappointnt in his tone was impossible to miss.
Lara rely smiled.
"Mr. Brookes," she said calmly, "a person’s capability should never be asured by age alone." Her gaze held his evenly. "There’s a reason people say not to judge a book by its cover."
Lionel fell silent. He felt ashad.
For several long seconds, he simply studied the young woman standing before him.
Her posture was elegant yet composed, her expression calm despite the unmistakable skepticism in his eyes.
And what unsettled him most was not her confidence—
But the profound depth in her eyes...
they were not the eyes of soone young and inexperienced. They were the eyes of a woman who had weathered storms in silence and erged stronger because of them.
"Please... sit."
Lara thanked him softly before taking her seat. The waiter quietly poured wine for both of them before exiting the room, leaving behind an almost suffocating silence.
Lionel remained standing for a mont longer before finally sitting down across from her. He rubbed his temples wearily.
"I’ll be honest, Miss Reyes," he admitted. "Starlight Films is not in a good position."
Lara listened quietly.
"Most people already know this, but perhaps not the full extent." Lionel let out a bitter chuckle. "We’ve suffered consecutive losses for three years. Investors pulled out one after another, our projects failed, and our directors left for larger studios." His tired eyes darkened. "At this point, Starlight exists only in na."
The once-famous production company that had created award-winning films now stood on the verge of collapse.
"And yet," Lara said calmly, "you still ca to Isla."
Lionel looked at her sharply.
For the first ti that evening, genuine interest flickered in his eyes.
"Yes," he admitted. "Because Isla is different."
He leaned back in his chair.
"There’s sothing about that island people can’t explain. Mystery. Beauty. History." His voice lowered slightly. "People are drawn to it."
"And that," Lara replied smoothly, "is exactly why you still have a chance to survive."
Silence settled between them.
Then Lara reached into her handbag and placed a thick folder on the table.
Lionel frowned slightly as she pushed it toward him.
"What is this?"
"A proposal."
Lionel opened the folder slowly.
As he scanned the docunts inside, the exhaustion on his face gradually shifted into disbelief.
Financial projections. Investnt plans. Distribution strategies. Projected international licensing deals.
The numbers were enormous.
His breathing beca uneven.
"This..." Lionel looked up at her. "This amount of funding..."
"I can provide it," Lara said simply.
Lionel stared at her as though trying to determine whether she was joking.
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