Chapter 167: Crossing Paths

In the lobby of the Zeller Group's corporate headquarters, the usual bustling noise of greetings and chatter fell silent as a tall, commanding figure entered the room. All eyes turned toward Lucas Zeller, the CEO—a man both deeply respected and profoundly feared. Known for his fiery temper and intense presence, Lucas' arrival was enough to silence an entire floor.

The employees' collective tension was palpable, stemming from the events of the past year. The root of it all? His wife, Claire Grace. Instead of continuing her life as the Zeller Group's elegant First Lady, she had run off to chase a new life with a stylist, leaving Lucas in the throes of anger and regret. Since then, not a single smile had graced his face, and his legendary temper had only worsened. Employees tiptoed through their workdays, dreading the possibility of provoking their volatile boss.

In stark contrast to the rest of the office, however, one man leaned nonchalantly against the door to Lucas' office, a mischievous smirk on his face. This was Roy Lin, Lucas' assistant and long-time friend, whose irreverence had earned him both admiration and exasperation from those around him.

"Roy, did you suddenly become a father, or did a meteor strike your head this morning and leave you senseless?" Lucas growled, his piercing gaze fixed on Roy.

"Neither, boss," Roy replied smoothly. "Although, I'll admit I've been working hard on the first one every night. As for meteors, those don't usually fall during the day."

"Then what's with that stupid grin on your face?" Lucas snapped, his irritation mounting.

"It's not a grin," Roy said, shrugging. "It's a muscle spasm. Can't help it." He strolled into Lucas' office and plopped onto the chair opposite him, crossing his legs with a casual air. "You know, some men are downright ridiculous. They don't treasure what they have, and when they lose it, they wallow in regret. Instead of swallowing their pride and doing something about it, they stomp around, raging like an angry lion at everyone else. Honestly, being friends with someone like that is exhausting."

Lucas didn't reply. Instead, he grabbed a thick cosmetics catalog off his desk and hurled it at Roy's head. "For someone who claims to be my friend, you sure are great at rubbing salt in the wound," Lucas muttered darkly.

Roy caught the catalog effortlessly and lowered it from his face, giving Lucas a pointed look. "And for someone who's supposedly a man of action, you're doing a terrible job of fixing this mess. You're still in love with Claire. Everyone can see it. So why haven't you done anything to bring her back?"

Lucas' jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His heart had left with Claire the day she walked away. He was a hollow man now, going through the motions of life but unable to feel joy. Without her, even the idea of smiling felt impossible.

"You're stuck in the past," Roy continued, his tone softening. "You're still hung up on what happened to Blaire, and it's paralyzing you. Claire's gone because she couldn't stay in that cycle of pain anymore."

Lucas turned his gaze to the floor, his usual sharp demeanor replaced with a shadow of melancholy. Roy sighed, leaning forward in his chair. "Look, I don't know for sure if Claire's with Blaine Jackson now. She and Blaine haven't contacted me or Lauren all year. But if I had to guess, they're probably happy together."

For the first time, Lucas didn't snap back. Instead, his expression clouded with raw pain, and he remained silent, staring at nothing.

Roy hesitated, alarmed by the uncharacteristic reaction. "Hey, man. Are you okay? Did I take it too far?"

Lucas' voice was low, barely audible. "If she's happy, then I…" The words lodged in his throat, choking him. The idea of Claire finding happiness with another man was unbearable, even as a hypothetical.

Roy stood up, pacing nervously. "This quiet Lucas is more terrifying than angry Lucas. Can you at least yell at me or something? You're freaking me out here."

Lucas glared at him. "You're unbelievable."

"And you're heartbroken," Roy shot back. "Admit it. You're still in love with Claire. So why are you wasting time moping around instead of doing something about it?"

Lucas rubbed his temples, his frustration evident. "You think I don't know that? My parents won't let me forget it either. Every morning, my mom ambushed me at the door, telling me to go find Claire and bring her back."

"So why hasn't she been nagging you lately?"

Lucas sighed heavily. "They left me a note this morning. Said they're going on a world tour. Apparently, they're done wasting energy on their ungrateful son."

Roy chuckled, though his laughter lacked its usual edge. "I can't say I blame them. If my kid acted like this, I'd probably do the same."

Lucas shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. "You're not helping. And since it's work hours, shouldn't you be doing something useful?"

Roy grinned, unfazed. "Yes, sir, Mr. Zeller. I'll go make arrangements with Lena, our new fragrance spokesperson." He gave Lucas an exaggerated bow before sauntering out of the office, leaving Lucas alone with his thoughts.

As the door clicked shut, Lucas leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

How could he bring himself to wish her happiness with someone else when his own heart still ached for her?

### Chapter 168: Do You Still Think About Him?

**Knock, knock, knock!** Blaine Jackson rapped gently on Claire Grace's bedroom door. 

"Is that you, Blaine? Or is it Sophie? Come in; the door's unlocked. I'm just removing my makeup," Claire's calm voice floated out from inside the room. 

Blaine raised an eyebrow at her casual tone, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. 

"Claire, need help with that?" he teased, his voice light as he leaned against the bathroom doorway. 

"No need," she called back, her voice muffled. "I'll be done in a minute. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime." 

Blaine chuckled softly and settled himself at the vanity near her bed. He leaned back, his eyes scanning the meticulously organized room that reflected Claire's personality—charming yet structured. 

"Blaine," Claire's voice echoed out, a little hesitant, "have you decided on a date to return home yet?" 

"Not yet," he replied. "I did overhear you mentioning that your work here could wrap up at any time. Does that mean you won't be renewing your contracts once they're over?" 

"Exactly. I've realized being a spokesperson just isn't for me," Claire said matter-of-factly. 

"Really? Won't you regret it? 'Purple Snail' has become a household name across Europe. Walking away just as you've hit your peak… Sophie Leroux might faint from frustration!" Blaine quipped, smirking at the thought. After all, Sophie had meticulously crafted Claire's image as a top-tier supermodel. 

Claire emerged from the bathroom, her natural beauty unmasked. Her ebony hair was styled in a sleek updo, with a few wispy strands pinned back with delicate crystal clips. The heavy makeup she had worn earlier was gone, revealing her flawless, porcelain-like complexion. 

She laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Don't worry. I warned Sophie about this from day one. I told her there was a chance I'd step away after fulfilling my commitments to the CN Cosmetics Group. And I reminded her frequently over the past year. She should be prepared for this." 

Blaine couldn't help but admire her, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than he intended. How peculiar it was, he thought, for someone's skin to grow even more radiant with age. 

"Well," he began, forcing himself to look away, "have you considered coming back to the U.S. and working as my assistant again? I'll need help preparing for the next All-Asia Styling Design Competition." 

Claire smiled and sat down beside him. "Blaine, you're not just my mentor and friend—you're also the best boss I've ever had. Of course, I'll help you." 

Over the past year, she had transformed into someone entirely new, shedding her insecurities and emerging as a confident, independent woman. And she owed much of that transformation to Blaine. There was no way she could turn him down. 

"Great! Wrap up your work here as soon as you can. We'll head back home in a few days to restart the Blue Hues Styling Studio," Blaine said, his enthusiasm evident. 

"Sounds good," Claire agreed. "By the way, are Adam and Joel still around, or have they moved on to other studios?" 

"They're still with us," Blaine assured her. "When I temporarily closed the studio last year, I told everyone I'd reopen after a year. So, they've been abroad for additional training and just returned. We're all set to pick up where we left off." 

Claire's eyes sparkled with amusement. "So, this was your plan all along? Blaine, I didn't realize you were more nostalgic and patriotic than I am. Planning your return a whole year in advance—impressive." 

"That's why I made the trip back last year. But my ultimate dream isn't just to expand in Asia—it's to reclaim my roots there," Blaine said, his voice suddenly serious. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, "By the way, Claire, if you're going to be my assistant again, shouldn't we revisit how you address me? Calling me 'Blaine' just doesn't feel right anymore." 

"Revisit it?" Claire tilted her head in confusion. "Do you want me to call you 'General Manager,' like Adam and Joel do?" 

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Could we go with something less boring?" 

"Then what should I call you? I think 'Blaine' works just fine—it's warm and friendly," she said, shrugging. 

"I prefer 'Master Blaine,'" he blurted out, unable to keep the suggestion to himself any longer. 

Claire burst out laughing. "Master Blaine? Are you serious? That sounds so childish!" 

Blaine groaned, running a hand through his hair. "A year ago, you used to call me that all the time. Are you saying you were childish back then?" 

Claire grinned and patted his shoulder. "A year ago, I was a completely different person. Look at me now—I wear skirts, even short, frilly ones! Back then, I wouldn't have dreamed of it. Now, my summer wardrobe is all about shorts and fitted tank tops. I've changed, Blaine." 

"You've changed a lot," he admitted, though there was a tinge of melancholy in his tone. "Completely transformed. But… I think I miss the old you—the Claire who called me 'Master Blaine' and spoke so softly, so cautiously." 

"Blaine," she said warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're the reason I've changed so much. Thanks to you, I'm brimming with confidence. Once we're back home, I'll be at my best for you and the studio." 

"Claire," Blaine began hesitantly, "can I ask you something?" 

"Go ahead," she replied, her tone encouraging. 

"Do you still think about him?" 

The question hung in the air like an unsaid confession. Claire smiled faintly, then stood up, pulling Blaine to his feet. 

"It's late, Blaine. You've had a long day. Go rest. I'm tired too." Without waiting for his response, she ushered him out the door and leaned against it once it closed. 

As she closed her eyes, her thoughts wandered back to Blaine's question. 

**Do I still think about him?** 

And somewhere deep within her heart, the answer echoed softly: *Will I ever see him again?*