SUPREME STYLIST: RETURN OF THE HUMILIATED GENIUS

Chapter 0017: Ghost and trajectory

Then dinner ended with a full course meal, detailed and served by seasoned chefs specially led by Mr. Harrison, the hotel manager.

The main dish, a herb crushed venison medallion and wagyu flatiron steak with rosemary-infused fingerlings potatoes, a single meal course cost more than most people's two year rents, served with desserts that looked too beautiful to eat, rich flourless chocolate cake specially made with port wine reduction and served with aged wine, Ruffino Alauda.

Rowan retired to his bed, adapting to his new life. He wore a silk night dress taken from the wardrobe provided by the hotel— a navy comfortable top and a slack.

He sat on the bed, unveiled the new devices he got from Brown Gadget.

He pulled out the Samsung phone from the box. The smell of synthetic fiber filled the air surrounding him. He whistled, taking in the impressive glossy finish with a gentle approving nod.

He removed the sim card from his old phone and inserted it. The phone came to life with a buzz that surged through him with something new and impressive.

Rowan quickly went through the phone for familiarity and smooth operation, adjusting the settings to match his taste.

Satisfied, he leaned against the bed headrest watching apps installed with a growing sense of accomplishment.

First, he picked up the Black Card Joyce Lang handed to him that night in the alley and he quickly saved Knox's number.

He deviated with a new resolve to find something— anything about Joyce Lang.

He input her name on the In***net.

The result poured over the screen.

Nothing about Joyce Lang.

His eyes narrowed.

He deepened into the research, looking for old tweets, pictures, collaboration, but Rowan found nothing.

Strange.

Someone must have whipped everything. Every profile of Joyce and her business and her account on In****am

And it could only be erased by her. Intentional.

Realization dawned on Rowan. Joyce Lang, his virtual mentor had vanished like a ghost with every trace that could lead to finding her erased from the net. But Why?

Rowan was already out of the bed, pacing the room gently, his mind calculating faster than the second hand of the wall clock.

"Why?" He muttered in the silence. "I signed the documents and she just vanished without any connection leading to her."

Rowan pulled out his phone standing in front of the glass window that overlooked the city. He dialed Knox, the only person that might possibly link him to Joyce Lang and answer the questions swirling in his mind.

The phone rang once and knox's voice sounded sharply like he'd been on standby.

"Boss," He toned, his voice resonating the speaker. "Do you need me to handle something for you?"

"I need information. Information about Mr. Lang. Answers that'll satisfy every question going through my mind."

"Who is Mrs. Lang really? She suddenly vanished. I haven't heard from her since the last time I signed the Deed. No calls. No connections. What is going on?"

A pause.

"I'm sorry, Boss," Knox came after some second with the same sharpness like he was born to speak that way. "Mrs. Lang didn't give me any instructions to reveal any details about herself."

Rowan raised a brow, turning away from the window.

"Mrs. Lang will surely find you when she needs you."

"She's a ghost?"

"Not likely, Boss."

Rowan released a sigh. He was starting to accept the reality that Joyce Lang had disappeared without any words about her whereabouts and signed off half of her wealth to him.

His mind cast back to that night she walked to him in that alley where he wanted to commit suicide,the gentleness when she held his hand and collected the bottle containing liquid that could have erased his existence.

"I believe in your dream, Rowan," he recalled her very words that night and the look in her eyes that said everything before she signed everything away without questioning. I TRUST YOU.

"I need every list of assets and business," Adrian's voice had shifted to someone who'd accepted he was dealing with a ghost to someone who had visualized a trajectory. A plan that would prove that Mrs. Lang was right for believing in him and also to show the world that they were wrong about one thing—

that they were wrong for looking down on him and serving them what was served when they wanted to break him and his dream.

"I need a compilation of every asset and business signed under my name, especially the Royal thread conglomerate. Every core Operations, Management and structures and logistics and finance. Don't leave anything out including vulnerabilities."