Rare Chances

The moment Cynthia picked up her phone, Tristan's fingers paused momentarily in their playful tapping of the screen. After a brief vibration, a faint smile tugged at his lips. He lowered his eyes to look at the message Cynthia had sent him: "It's just a stone. So what?"

The exclusive butler standing in front of the railing observed Tristan's expression carefully. After a brief hesitation, he took a step forward and respectfully spoke, "Sir, shall we continue?"

Without saying anything, Tristan quickly typed a response on his phone, his fingertips dancing across the screen: "No matter what you want, I'll find a way to make my girl happy."

Cynthia, upon seeing his reply, felt her lashes flutter. A warm sensation, like soft, smooth satin, wrapped around her heart, filling her with a quiet, comforting joy.

Meanwhile, people around them, seeing that the SVIP guest had yet to speak, began to grow restless.

"What's going on with the SVIP person?" one of them whispered.