The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 360

Lavinia buried her face back into his chest, her eyebrows knotting into a deep frown.

Was she really that utterly devoid of charm? Or was his self-control just terrifyingly unbreakable?

A fierce, competitive spark flared to life inside her.

***

"Your luck has been terrible this year. We need to pray properly."

Bougainvillea spilled wildly over the walls of the Triune Temple. With Sigrid supporting her arm, Florence stepped over the heavy wooden threshold.

Sigrid said nothing. She didn't believe in the divine, and she certainly didn't believe in fate.

The notification that Julian had officially dropped the civil suit had arrived yesterday. She was finally free from that suffocating legal nightmare.

The resounding echoes of bells and drums drifted from the main hall, signaling a ceremony far more grandiose than the usual daily prayers.

A massive crowd was gathered outside the hall, packed three layers deep. It was obvious they wouldn't be able to get inside to light their incense today.

Florence frowned. "Is someone holding a private ritual?"

Through the gaps in the crowd, they could see high priests in deep purple robes chanting and moving in complex ceremonial steps.

Whoever was hosting this had spared absolutely no expense. Hiring one high priest was a luxury; this family had hired three.

Sigrid offered a cold sneer. "What, is someone's house haunted?"

"No, no, nothing like that," a chatty older woman standing nearby eagerly chimed in. "One of the wealthiest legacy families in Blossom City just found their long-lost heiress. They're hosting a massive Thanksgiving Ritual today. I heard in a few days they're throwing an enormous Ancestor Recognition Ceremony at their private estate right in the middle of the financial district!"

Florence sighed in awe. "To find a lost child after so many years... the heavens truly blessed them."

Sigrid didn't reply. She quietly stood on her tiptoes, peering over the sea of heads into the grand hall.

Kneeling before the grand altar was a young woman. Her posture was elegantly straight, dressed in a pale moonlit gown, her long hair pinned up in a low, sophisticated bun. Her profile was mostly obscured by the swirling incense smoke.

The chatty woman kept gossiping: "I heard the poor girl had a really tough life before this, completely abandoned out in the world. Now she's returning to her roots—a sparrow turning into a phoenix overnight."

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