Chapter 479

The final list for the "Starlight Initiative" had just been finalized in the top-floor conference room of the Valdemar Group headquarters.

Melanie Linton's name stood out prominently, specially marked as a Tier 1 observation subject.

Scarlett Galatea received the news while secluded in a private booth at an exclusive club.

Her fingers glided repeatedly over the screen as she stared at the list.

"Scarlett, why are you hiding here alone?"

Her best friend approached with two glasses of red wine, offering one to her.

Scarlett tilted her phone toward her.

"Wow, Valdemar moves fast," her friend remarked after a sip. "But this Melanie Linton..."

"I heard Evelyn Roland personally approved the list," a girl in a sequined dress interjected, her eyes flashing with provocation. "As the project liaison, surely you had some say, Director Galatea?"

The music in the booth cut off abruptly.

Scarlett's friend slammed her glass down. "Some people should mind their own business. Since when do you get to gossip about Mr. Valdemar?"

The sequined girl pressed on. "I'm just curious. Miss Roland and Mr. Valdemar have been spending so much time together lately—"

"Enough!" Scarlett stood abruptly, her champagne-colored nails gleaming coldly under the lights. "I don't recall inviting you tonight."

The girl paled and clutched at her male companion's sleeve.

To her shock, the man shook her off and fawned over Scarlett instead. "Don't be upset, Scarlett. I'll make her leave."

"You—" The girl trembled with rage, her wineglass cracking under the pressure of her grip.

Scarlett smoothed her dress with practiced elegance and offered the room a composed smile. "Please, continue."

As music filled the booth again, the lively atmosphere returned.

Only Scarlett knew her heart had sunk to the depths.

"Should we go?" her friend asked quietly.

Scarlett shook her head, reapplying her lipstick with steady hands.

But the moment she stepped out of the club, she dialed a number. "I want Evelyn Roland's complete itinerary."

Her Maserati sliced through the night with a sharp turn.

The callback came swiftly.

"Are you sure?" Scarlett slammed the brakes, her nails digging into the leather steering wheel. "They're flying to Switzerland tomorrow?"

When the confirmation came, she stared at her distorted reflection in the rearview mirror—and suddenly laughed.

"Evelyn Roland..."

The name rolled off her tongue like shards of ice.