Love Across the Light Years -The Devil CEO Indulges My Lies.-Chapter 41: So, it’s her.

As Adelyn walked a little further inside, she spotted Freya and Amelia waiting for her not far away.

"Sister Freya," she called out softly, before heading straight toward them with graceful steps.

Amelia watched her approach and patted her chest in relief.

Adelyn noted her small movement and raised a brow.

"What? Did you think I wouldn’t come?"

"No —I was fretting about how you would come?"

"Huh?" Adelyn didn’t understand. Her gaze flickered to Freya once before returning to Amelia.

"I was afraid you wouldn’t be careful enough with your outfit. I forgot to mention it over the call earlier."

Adelyn pursed her lips. "I am not that foolish. I know how to dress for events as formal as this."

She twirled lightly on her heels. "Look ... haven’t I dressed decently enough?"

Before Amelia could reply, Freya smiled, satisfied. "You look perfectly decent. Come on, let’s go now. It isn’t proper to arrive late."

Adelyn nodded to her and turned to follow her.

Amelia walked beside her.

As they moved forward, someone in the distance stood staring —particularly at Adelyn.

Not intentionally ... but because he simply couldn’t help it.

His gaze remained cold, aloof —yet deep within his abyssal blue-amber eyes, something was different.

"Sir," Wyatt said softly when he noticed Dylan standing still.

Dylan didn’t react. He didn’t move. He only stared in the direction Adelyn was walking.

Only after she disappeared from the sight did he speak. "Let’s go."

Wyatt frowned slightly. He glanced toward where his boss had been staring, but nothing unusual caught his eye.

In the end, he simply turned and followed Dylan inside.

Meanwhile, as they headed toward the private room, Amelia cast Adelyn a brief glance and whispered, "You could try other shades as well. They are not that bad at all."

"And you could try praising me sometimes. I wouldn’t be bad as well." Adelyn smiled teasingly.

"You —"

Before Amelia could continue, Freya shushed her.

"We are here. No more bantering. Save it for after we finish what we came for."

Then, without waiting, she gently pushed open the door to the private room.

The conversation inside the room softened the moment the door opened.

A long-polished table occupied the center, surrounded by quiet authority —tailored suits, measured gazes, the faint scent of expensive cologne and sharper judgment.

Freya stepped forward first with a polite smile, composed and professional.

"Apologies for keeping you waiting," she said smoothly. "There was a slight traffic in the way."

Her reputation might have ruined, but there were still many in the industry who trusted her capability.

James Polson, the producer, was one of them.

He waved dismissively. "Not at all. We have only just settled in. Please join us."

Freya inclined her head politely before turning slightly.

"This is the artiste I mentioned earlier —Adelyn Grace."

Adelyn stepped forward, her posture straight, expression calm. She offered a small, respectful nod.

"Good evening." Her voice was soft, steady —neither eager nor timid.

For a brief moment, the room remained neutral.

James adjusted his glasses, studying her profile with mild interest.

One of the investors sitting there also nodded politely.

The assistant director flipped through a tablet, likely reviewing her portfolio.

Everything seemed ... normal.

Freya subtly relaxed, though the tension still lingered beneath her composure.

Perhaps James sensed it. The lines around his eyes softened slightly as he gestured toward the three empty chairs across the table.

"Let’s not stand and talk. Please take a seat while we listen. Make yourself comfortable."

Freya smiled and nodded politely. She gestured for Amelia and Adelyn to sit.

Once they settled, Freya began explaining further.

"She has trained overseas for the past several years," she said. "Her range is strong and her emotional control —"

A chair creaked sharply, interrupting her.

One of the older investors leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Adelyn’s face more closely. Recognition flickered across his gaze.

"... Wait."

The single word cut through the room.

He stared at her —not politely, but intently. His brows slowly drew together. "I feel like I have seen you before."

Silence thickened.

Amelia’s fingers stiffened at her sides.

Freya’s smile remained, but something in her gaze faltered.

The investor leaned back slowly, his lip pressing into a thin line. "... You look like that teen actress from ten years ago."

The air shifted.

Another man frowned. "Teen actress?"

"The one from the Golden Production incident," the investor said cooly, no longer needing a confirmation. "The girl who offended half the industry at once."

At his words like that, the recognition spread.

James straightened. His fingers moved to adjust his glasses subtly —but he didn’t speak.

Another investor exchanged glances. And someone let out a low, humorless exhale.

"So, it’s her."

The polite atmosphere dissolved almost instantly.

Freya shifted slightly in her seat.

"That was many years ago," she said calmly. "She was quite young, and the circumstances were not as simple as they appeared. She —"

One investor raised a hand.

"Ms. Finn," he said mildly, "reputation is never simple in this industry. And she has already ruined hers."

Another added flatly, addressing the producer, "We made it clear that we cannot add risk to a project of this scale."

"Although the incident is in the past, we cannot ignore that she was involved in a scandal that humiliated major industry players."

"Her involvement could damage investor’s confidence. I don’t agree with this."

Each statement landed like a quiet verdict.

Amelia lowered her gaze. She had feared this —and it had happened. She slowly turned to glance at Adelyn, hoping to soothe her. But she paused when saw her.

She looked so calm and composed as though nothing had deterred her even a bit.

How could she be like this even in such a pessimistic situation?

She wanted to ask her, but right at that second, she heard Freya speaking from the side.

"Gentlemen," Freya said steadily, "you are judging an artiste based on a single past controversy. Shouldn’t you give her talent a chance—?" She tried to remain composed, though the tension tightened her shoulders almost invisibly.

"Talent alone doesn’t secure market risk," one investor replied calmly.

James sighed softly. He truly admired Freya’s skills in grooming talents, but —

He exhaled and finally spoke. "Freya ... I trust you and also understand your point. But ..."

He paused briefly.

"This project already carries heavy expectations. We cannot afford unnecessary noise."