THE BILLIONAIRES WIFE

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Thomas Blake turned his head, his gaze penetrating as he looked outside.

How could she possibly be here?

Over the years, he had sent countless agents to track her down, yet all efforts had proven fruitless. Anyone even he couldn't locate was either hiding extraordinarily well or... dead.

At this thought, Thomas Blake's fist clenched tightly. He flung his phone against the car window, where it clattered before landing on the seat beside him.

He would never forget what his mother had told him that day, standing outside William Collins' hospital room...

"Thomas, you know why we came to the Collins family, don't you?"

"If you can't control your heart, I can't guarantee her safety."

"If you can't make the decision, then I will make it for you. From now on, you are not to think of her, nor are you to look for her!"

Control his heart? If his heart were within his control, he wouldn't be in this vulnerable, agonizing position.

Damn it; this was not him!

"Boss Thomas, we've arrived. Shall we go in?"

The car pulled up in front of a lavishly decorated hotel lobby, where luxury cars arrived in orderly procession, while elegantly dressed men and women engaged in animated conversation, exuding an air of wealth with every gesture.

When Thomas Blake remained silent, Henry waited tactfully, observing his every expression through the rearview mirror.

Thomas straightened, his sharp gaze casting an indifferent glance over the crowd outside, his lips curling into a faint, mocking smile.

"You can accompany me inside."

Henry was taken aback. "Boss Thomas, just me?"

"What's wrong? Do you want to wait outside?" Thomas replied with a cold smirk.

Henry quickly shook his head. He'd started to speak but stopped himself,

knowing his duty was simply to follow orders. Boss Thomas always had his reasons.

Thomas Blake had already stepped out, his tall, imposing figure drawing numerous admiring glances. Ignoring them all, he strode forward confidently, his immaculate bespoke suit molding perfectly to his frame, the breeze occasionally lifting the hem of his jacket.

From the car, Henry discreetly picked up a gun, thought better of it, and tucked it back in. He hurried out, signaling to his men, then caught up with Thomas.

"Good evening, Thomas!"

The attendant at the door greeted him respectfully; Thomas Blake's name was known to all. The man lifted a scanner, gesturing toward Thomas.

Thomas's gaze turned icy.

Henry's expression darkened as he snatched the scanner from the attendant's hand. "Mr. Thomas doesn't appreciate being touched. Thank you for understanding."

The attendant, initially fearing he'd made some grievous error, exhaled in relief at Henry's explanation.

Henry maintained a respectful distance as he completed the scan, ending the check quickly.

Every event installed scanners, considering the distinguished identities of those in attendance; the slightest mishap could ruin an organizer's reputation.

Handing back the scanner, Henry watched as Thomas Blake walked away alone, leaving him behind. Frustrated by the attendant's meticulous scan, he finally snapped, "Hurry up!"

By the time Henry managed to catch up, the dreamy, bustling scene inside had swallowed Thomas's figure.

"Damn it!" Henry muttered, ruffling his hair in frustration, uncertain of where to search. Judging by the oblivious calm of the guests, no one seemed to have noticed Boss Thomas's entrance. So, where could he be?

Even Thomas Blake himself wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up in this deserted backstage area. He'd simply wanted to escape the noise and avoid the sycophants, searching for a quiet place to rest, only to find himself here.

He moved to leave when he noticed a tiny figure beside his foot, no higher than his thigh.

A little girl stood there in a princess dress, her mismatched pigtails lending her an oddly charming look, her grape-like eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Thomas Blake's expression remained impassive as he looked down at the child's wide-eyed gaze, a flicker of recognition stirring in him.

Those eyes... familiar somehow?

"Uncle, are you lost?"

The little girl's voice was sweet and childlike, tugging at Thomas's pant leg with tiny fingers.

Thomas stared at the hand on his trousers. He normally despised being touched, yet with this child, he felt nothing of the sort.

He frowned, stepped back slightly, and said nothing.

Lost? Wasn't she the lost one?

"Uncle, Mama says this place is big, and wandering around can get you lost. Bad people might even take you away," the little girl said earnestly, reciting her mother's words as if they were gospel.

"So?" Thomas's face remained unreadable as he uttered the single word. Talking to a child was hardly his style.

Momentarily stumped, the girl's brow furrowed as she tried to figure out what he meant. So? What so? Mama hadn't explained who 'so' was.

"Uncle, are you looking for 'so'?"

"..."

Thomas Blake stared at her confused face for a while, then turned on his heel and left, abandoning the bewildered child.

The little girl pouted, twisting her hands together. What a strange uncle.

Just then, Amelia came out from backstage, visibly relieved to find Emily standing safely by the door. With Olivia busy greeting guests, and herself preoccupied with helping the models, there had been no one to watch Emily.

"Mama!"

Seeing Amelia, little Emily broke into a grin and threw herself into her mother's arms, her brief encounter with the strange uncle fading into memory.

"Mama, I didn't wander off." Preempting any scolding, Emily's quick words left Amelia without a reproach in mind.

Why couldn't her daughter be a little more innocent, like other children her age, and not so quick-witted?

"Alright, stay close to Mama. There are many people here, and I don't want to lose sight of you." Amelia patted her daughter's head gently.

Emily nodded solemnly, taking Amelia's hand as they walked. Suddenly, she halted, glancing back thoughtfully.

"What is it?"

Amelia followed her gaze but saw nothing.

"Mama, who is 'so?" Emily asked, her clear eyes filled with curiosity.

So? What "so"? Where did she pick up that word?

"What 'so'?" Amelia asked, puzzled.

Emily lowered her gaze, taking her mother's hand as they continued. She walked slowly, her grape-like eyes seeming to ponder some distant thought.

Amelia looked down, perplexed, but asked no further. Her daughter often asked odd questions; this wasn't the first time.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the PC Spring Fashion Show. Without further ado..."

Amelia stood backstage, anxiously listening to the emcee's opening remarks. Her fists clenched, she absorbed none of it, determined not to make a single mistake.