Chapter 4

Before anyone realized it, five years had passed.

Billy Harvey stood in the arrival hall of JFK International Airport, wearing a neat dark suit and a calm expression. His face looked more mature, his gaze sharp and calculating. A month in China had exhausted his body, but the results were worth it. A new project, new connections, and one more step toward expanding his business empire into the Asian continent.

“Welcome back, Bill,” Donna Amanda said as she took hold of his arm.

Billy glanced at her briefly. Donna looked perfect as always. Tall, slender, blonde hair gleaming, her face featured on countless global fashion billboards. All of that was inseparable from his support.

“How did the project go?” Donna asked with a smile directed at the journalists’ cameras.

“Smooth,” Billy replied briefly.

Donna laughed softly. “You’re amazing! Oh, right— the media is already waiting for us outside. They must want to interview us.”

Billy nodded faintly. He was used to it. For the past five years, the public had known Donna as his woman. He never denied it, nor did he ever confirm it. Their relationship simply went on without any official status.

They walked together through the crowd.

On the other side of the airport, a woman paused briefly after picking up her suitcase. Her body was slim, her posture straight, her steps confident. Her long black hair flowed freely, her face calm with elegant light makeup.

She was Vivian Wheeler.

That name was widely known in the European fashion world. A master designer whose works frequently appeared in Paris, Milan, and London. The woman wore a simple long coat, yet her aura was impossible to ignore. All this time, she had hidden her identity as a master. And now, she had decided it was time to reveal herself to the public.

When her gaze fell on a man walking arm in arm with a famous model, Vivian’s steps halted.

That man was Billy Harvey.

The corner of Vivian’s lips lifted slightly. Not a warm smile, nor a mocking one. Just a thin, controlled smile.

“The world really is small,” she murmured softly.

She put on her sunglasses, pulled her suitcase, and walked forward, passing Billy and Donna.

Billy was answering reporters’ questions when the woman’s presence registered clearly in his senses.

“Bill, we finally meet again,” Vivian said silently in her heart.

Billy’s steps stopped.

Donna turned quickly. “Do you know her?”

Billy did not answer right away. His body froze for a few seconds. He felt that the woman was strangely familiar.

He turned around.

The woman had already walked past him without looking back, her steps calm, as if the encounter meant nothing at all.

“Who is she?” Donna frowned.

Billy shook his head slowly. “I don’t know.”

Yet his chest felt strange. There was something unsettling, something he couldn’t explain.

Donna narrowed her eyes toward Vivian’s retreating back.

Meanwhile, Billy was still staring in the direction the woman had gone.

A sense of discomfort slowly crept in.

“Come on,” Donna said as she pulled his arm. “We have to go.”

Billy nodded, but his thoughts lagged a few steps behind.

At the airport exit, Vivian paused briefly, then slightly turned toward the glass reflection. She saw Billy from afar, still standing with Donna by his side.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered to herself. “I’m not the old Thabita.”

She walked away, leaving the airport with steady steps.

Meanwhile, Billy got into his black car. The door closed, the city noise muffling the silence inside the cabin.

“Why are you so quiet?” Donna asked.

Billy turned his head. “It’s nothing.”

Yet his hand clenched slightly.

A name he had buried long ago suddenly surfaced in his mind for no reason at all.

Thabita.

Billy frowned. “Strange,” he muttered.

“What?” Donna asked.

Billy shook his head. “Nothing.”

The car drove away from the airport.

The car carrying Vivian stopped in front of a luxury apartment building on the Upper East Side. Vivian stepped out calmly, handed her suitcase to the attendant, then entered the building without drawing attention. No reporters, no cameras. Everything was still according to plan.

As soon as the apartment door opened, a young woman greeted her with a bright expression.

“Vivi, you finally arrived!” Lily exclaimed as she approached.

Vivian smiled faintly. “I just landed. Have you been waiting long?”

“Since morning,” Lily answered honestly. “I was afraid you’d change your mind.”

Vivian placed her bag on the table. “About what?”

Lily crossed her arms. “About going public.”

Vivian walked toward the large window, gazing at the busy city of New York. “I’ve thought it through carefully.”

“For the past three years, you’ve gone to great lengths to hide your identity as a master designer,” Lily continued. “And now suddenly you want to appear. Are you sure?”

Vivian turned her head. “I’m sure.”

“Not as Thabita Salton?” Lily asked to confirm.

Vivian smiled thinly. “Of course not. Thabita Salton has been dead for a long time.”

Lily let out a breath. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure you’re ready.”

“I am ready,” Vivian replied calmly.

Lily opened the tablet in her hand. “There’s a banquet tonight at the Sterling Hotel Ballroom. The official welcome event for Master Designer Vivian Wheeler.”

“Who will be attending?” Vivian asked.

“Investors, fashion media, several CEOs of major companies,” Lily replied while reading the list. “Including representatives from Harvey Group.”

Vivian paused for a moment. “Billy Harvey?”

“Yes,” Lily answered. “Apparently he just returned from China.”

Vivian nodded slowly. “That’s fine.”

Lily looked at her doubtfully. “You’re sure you won’t be nervous?”

“I’m coming as Vivian Wheeler,” Vivian said firmly. “Not as a woman who was once hurt. So I won’t be nervous.”

Lily smiled faintly. “Alright. The gown is ready. You just need to show up and smile.”

Vivian took a deep breath. “That’s the easiest part.”

On the other side of the city, an apartment that had been silent for five years was finally lit up again.

Billy stood in the middle of the living room, looking around with an unreadable expression. The furniture was still covered with cloth, the air felt stuffy. He had never returned to this apartment since the day Thabita left.

“Why did I come here?” he muttered.

He walked slowly, opened the curtains, letting the afternoon light pour in. The room felt unfamiliar, yet also too familiar.

Billy stopped in front of a small shelf. A photo frame was still standing there. An old photograph.

Thabita Salton.

A chubby woman with an awkward smile, standing beside him while holding his arm. Billy stared at the photo for a long time.

“Stupid,” he said coldly.

His hand lifted, taking the frame. His fingers clenched tightly until the frame trembled.

“Five years,” he said softly. “And I still kept this?”

He snorted, then tore the photo without hesitation. The paper split in two.

“I should have forgotten you by now,” he said sharply.

Billy threw the torn pieces onto the floor, then stepped on them.

Yet his chest felt tight. Not purely longing, not purely hatred. The feelings were mixed, unclear, and deeply irritating.

“Enough,” he muttered.

He turned and walked toward the door, but paused for a moment.

Billy looked back, staring at the empty room one last time.

“This is the last time,” he said to himself. “There is no more Thabita Salton.”