Chapter 320: While He Was Busy

Rebecca kept looking at him.

Even as she walked forward beside Durnik, cameras flashing from both sides, she did not give the lenses much of her attention. The light burst against her face in sharp white pops, one after another, but her eyes stayed fixed past the noise and the hands holding phones up. She looked straight at Lucas like the rest of the lobby had become background.

Durnik noticed.

At first it was only the angle of her face that pulled his attention. Then his gaze followed hers, drifting left and forward through the crowd until it landed on the one person he did not want to see in that building at all.

Lucas.

For half a second Durnik simply stared, as if his mind needed extra time to reject the image. Then the anger hit hard and fast. His hand left Rebecca’s arm at once. His whole body tensed like he was about to cut straight through the people between them and reach Lucas before manners, cameras, or common sense could stop him.

He did not get the chance.

The crowd closed in the wrong way. Guests shifted toward them for pictures, voices rising, phones lifting higher. Someone called Durnik’s name. Another asked Rebecca to turn slightly for a better shot. A third person stepped directly into the path Durnik needed, smiling like this was still a normal entrance and not the start of a public problem.

By the time Durnik forced a step forward, Lucas was already gone.

Not dramatically. Not with a run that would draw more eyes. He simply slipped sideways into the thicker part of the lobby traffic and vanished between shoulders, suits, and raised phones like he had never been standing there at all.

Durnik’s jaw locked.

He searched anyway, eyes cutting left and right while the crowd kept pressing in for attention he no longer wanted. Every polite smile from a guest felt like an obstacle. Every camera flash made the room harder to read. He kept moving toward the main hall because the night still demanded his presence, but his focus was no longer on hosting. It was on finding the face that had no business being this close to his event.

Meanwhile, Lucas had already put enough distance between them.

He did not head for the exit. He did not force a confrontation either. Starting trouble now would be stupid. He had not gathered what he came for yet, and swinging first in a lobby full of investors and cameras would only hand Durnik an easy public story. So he stayed back, calm on the surface, letting the room rearrange itself without him in the center of it.

From a quieter stretch near one of the side columns, he watched the entrance settle.

Staff began guiding people toward their seats. The scattered standing groups broke apart. Conversations dropped as guests found their tables. The hall slowly took the shape of an event ready to begin.

Then Durnik stepped onto the stage.

The lights caught him cleanly. The room turned toward him out of habit and obligation. He looked composed enough from a distance, suit straight, chin lifted, the picture of a man opening his own night.

Only the tightness around his eyes gave anything away.

Somewhere below the stage, among the seated guests and polished glassware, Lucas remained unreadable.

And Durnik, for all the control he was trying to perform, still had not found him again.

Durnik stayed on the stage longer than the speech deserved.

From below, Lucas sat with a glass of wine in hand and listened like a man trapped in a meeting he already understood too well. The words came out polished enough, practiced enough, but there was no real weight under them. Durnik praised TikTok as if the platform were an untouchable kingdom. Years of dominance. No rival strong enough to shake it. A future so secure that investment was less a risk and more a privilege.

Lucas drank.

Every line pointed the same direction. Money. Loyalty. Creators working harder so the app could grow fatter. The old man dressed it up as vision, but it was fundraising in a nicer suit. By the time Durnik reached his closing lines, the room clapped out of habit more than belief. A few guests looked convinced. Most looked trained.

Lucas set his glass down once, then lifted it again.

Instead of returning to his seat and letting the host continue the program, Durnik left the stage and cut straight toward a small group of young streamers near one of the side tables. Three of them. All dressed for camera light. All young enough that his attention already looked suspicious before he opened his mouth.

If anyone asked, the answer was ready.

He was supporting new creators.

Listening to ideas.

Mentoring the next generation.

In reality, his smile was too interested and his eyes moved too much. He leaned in, laughed a little too quickly, and stood close enough that the performance of generosity started looking like a hunt. One of the girls answered politely. Another glanced at her friends. The third kept her phone in hand like she might need an exit.

Lucas watched for a second, unimpressed.

Then his eyes drifted across the room and found Rebecca.

She was seated alone now, posture perfect, face composed, and completely bored. The kind of boredom that expensive clothes could not hide. While her husband worked the young creators under a thin excuse, she sat among polished glasses and formal chatter like a woman counting the minutes until the night became less dull. Her fingers rested against the stem of her glass without real interest.

Lucas read it easily.

A chairman on stage selling power.

A husband offstage chasing attention.

A wife left at the table with nothing to do but endure it.

Rebecca finally stood.

Not in a scene-making way. Just enough to leave her seat and break the stillness around her, as if even standing were more interesting than remaining where Durnik had left her. A few nearby guests glanced over, then returned to their own conversations.

Lucas’s mouth curved slightly.

If the old man wanted to waste the evening pretending to mentor girls young enough to be his next mistake, that was his choice. The more useful opening had just left her chair.

Lucas picked up his wine again, rose without hurry, and began making his way through the tables toward her.