In her hasty departure, Freya had neglected to inform Madeline Luna. She could imagine Madeline's anxiety. Before her worry could completely manifest, the man extended a sleek black phone and a portable charger.

With an appreciative glance, Freya powered her phone and promptly reached out to Madeline, assuring her of her wellbeing. Once the call ended, she refocused on the man.

"Thank you for your intervention," she said, her tone both measured and sincere. "I am Freya Lawson. May I inquire about your name?"

He replied curtly, "Adams."

Freya paused momentarily, absorbing the uniqueness of the name. Suppressing her internal musings, she offered, "Mr. Adams, you've aided me twice. I'd like to reciprocate with a meal in your honor."

His response was immediate. "Why delay? Let's do it now."

She hesitated. "Tonight, seems a tad late, doesn't it?"

"I have an appointment at Shangri-La. It aligns well with my route, and it's hardly past a decent hour."

Reflecting briefly on this serendipity, Freya countered, "In that case, perhaps drinks?"

His gaze sharpened, the warmth ebbing away. He'd been gauging her, and her candid invitation seemed to unsettle him. What facets of this woman remained veiled from him?

The ambiance in the car grew thick, prompting Freya to maintain her silence. Her eyes, however, occasionally darted towards him, processing his evident prowess and the deference he commanded, even in shadowy circles. The gentle aroma of mint wafting in the car rekindled memories, and Bradley Austin's face came unbidden to her mind. Their resemblances were uncanny.

Bradley, noticing her contemplative gaze, internally scoffed. 'Just like every other woman, enamored by handsome features,' he ruminated cynically.

They soon arrived at Shangri-La. As they alighted, Freya observed him briefly confer with a few guards. His stature and their respect for him was evident. Drawn by intrigue, she trailed him inside, only to be jolted by the presence of a certain Patrick Perry seated in a secluded booth.

His unexpected presence triggered her flight response. As she pivoted to retreat, a firm grip encircled her wrist.

"And where are you going?" His tone was cold, demanding an explanation.

"I... I'm not feeling well suddenly. I just need the restroom." Freya said, uneasily.

"There's one inside the private room," Adams tersely responded, gripping her wrist and guiding her inside.

Freya's heart raced. Who exactly was this Mr. Adams? Why did he associate with people she recognized?

"Ms. Lawson! It's a pleasure to see you again." Patrick Perry greeted with a sly grin, looking strikingly different today in a high-collared, diagonally buttoned uniform. He looked tall, imposing, and incredibly dashing — almost too intimidating.

Freya nervously licked her lips, pretending not to recognize him. "Bradley? It's been a while."

"Not too long. We met just a few days ago. You seemed not to recognize me then," he smirked, clearly enjoying the upper hand. If she hadn’t been the boss's woman, he would have pursued her relentlessly. Her beauty, combined with her talents, made her absolutely enticing.

Patrick's appreciative gaze was abruptly interrupted by a sharp glare. He turned to find Bradley Austin's eyes filled with warning. Patrick flinched, realizing he had overlooked Bradley's presence while making advances towards his woman.

Unaware of the undercurrents between the two men, Freya explained, "I'm sorry about the other day. I was in a bit of trouble and had to pretend I didn't know you."

"It's alright. I was worried you might have forgotten about me," Patrick said casually.

Bradley, clearly irked by their casual conversation, turned to Freya, "How do you two know each other?"

Before she could answer, Patrick interjected, "Funny story. Ms. Lawson and I met right here in Shangri-La. But how do you know her, Adams?"

Earlier, Patrick had been warned about Bradley's arrival with a woman and advised not to spill any secrets. Seeing Freya, it dawned on him. Bradley was using his real identity to approach and investigate her.

Bradley ignored the attempt at small talk, motioning for Freya to sit beside him. After a moment's hesitation, she obliged.

Pouring two glasses of wine, Patrick offered, "It's rare for Adams to bring a woman. Let's toast to this occasion."

However, his casual demeanor was cut short by another piercing gaze from Bradley.