The morning air outside the Heverd estate was crisp, but the tension radiating from Mr. Montess could melt glass. He didn't bother with the pleasantries of ringing the doorbell, his knuckles slammed against the polished oak, echoing through the quiet neighborhood like a challenge. When the butler opened the door, one look at the storm in his eyes was enough to step aside without a word.
Inside, the Heverds were gathered in the sitting room, their conversation faltering the moment they saw him.
"We need to talk," Mr. Montess said, his tone sharp enough to cut through the air. "About your son… and about the disgrace you call a 'canceled engagement."
Meanwhile, across town, Victoria smoothed the skirt of her soft beige dress as she stepped out of the car. Denis was waiting by the restaurant entrance, tall and effortlessly charming in his navy suit. The corners of his lips curled into a smile the moment she came to sight, he found himself thinking about her at the most inconvenient hours.
"You look beautiful," he murmured, offering his arm.
They ate while chatting, though "chatting" was a generous word. Denis would glance at her every so often, the faintest smile tugging at his lips, but Victoria barely spared him a look. She kept her gaze fixed on her plate, her fork scraping lightly against the porcelain.
Just as the waiter placed their dessert on the table, a shadow fell across them.
"Well," Mabel's voice dripped with sugary venom, "isn't this cozy?"
She set her designer bag on the very edge of the table without asking, her manicured nails tapping against the leather. Her eyes flicked between them with deliberate disdain, the corners of her lips lifting in a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Victoria's grip on her fork tightened. She already knew—lunch was about to be ruined.
"What do you want, Mabel?" Victoria asked through gritted teeth, her voice low but razor-sharp.
"Oh, I was passing by and decided to say hi," Mabel replied, sizing her up like a jeweler appraising a counterfeit diamond. "You know… check up on you. And I must say, you look stunning. Is this—" she arched a brow, "—a date?" She slid into the seat beside Victoria without invitation, her perfume overpowering the subtle scent of dessert.
Denis cleared his throat. "No, erm…"
"Mabel."
"Yes, Mabel. No, it's not a date," he clarified. "Just took her out for lunch. Remember I told you guys I'm trying to win her over?" He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin, as though this conversation was perfectly casual.
"I see," Mabel said, though irritation coiled inside her. She leaned in so close Victoria could smell the mint on her breath. "Don't try anything funny, okay? If the deal is called off, I'll make sure Daniel ruins you."
Victoria's knuckles whitened around her fork. "Rest assured, Mabel," she said evenly, meeting her gaze with unflinching calm, "I'm not as petty as you."
She dropped her fork with a soft clink, pushed her chair back, and gave Denis a resigned look. "I'll have to leave now. I'm… quite choked up this afternoon."
Sensing the tension, Denis stood too. "I'll walk you out."
Feeling her grip on the situation slip, Mabel rose abruptly, her elbow catching the cup of juice. The glass toppled, sending cold liquid splashing across Victoria's dress.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Mabel gasped, feigning horror. Under her breath, barely audible, she sneered, "Serves you right."
She had always hated how that dress looked on Victoria. Even if the spill had been an accident, the satisfaction in her eyes betrayed her.
"I'll go use the restroom," Victoria said, refusing to give Mabel the satisfaction of a reaction.
"Okay," Denis replied, his jaw tightening. "I'll wait for you."
The moment Victoria disappeared from sight, Mabel turned to him, her voice soft and guilt-laced. "I hope you're not angry. I… I didn't mean for any of this to happen." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking almost innocent. "I really hope you don't call off the deal with Hevard Industries because of… this."
Denis's head lifted slowly, his gaze sharp enough to cut. "I don't mix personal matters with business. But—" he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping, "—if it inconveniences the one I cherish, rest assured I'll burn bridges down for her. So… be careful how you behave around her."
Without waiting for her response, he stood and walked away.
When Victoria emerged from the restroom, she paused, scanning the restaurant. Denis was nowhere in sight. A hollow ache rose in her chest.
"He left," she murmured, a trace of disappointment in her voice. "I had hopes…"
She exhaled, steeling herself to walk out—only to freeze when she spotted him. He was still there, tall and effortlessly handsome, his phone pressed to his ear.
As she approached, he ended the call and turned toward her. Without hesitation, he took her hand in his.
"I'm sorry for what happened," he said, his voice low but sincere. "I figured she targeted you because of the deal between me and Daniel. I don't know how it's all connected, but…" his thumb brushed lightly over her fingers, "…I'm sorry for putting you in a tight position."
Victoria stared at him, her throat tightening as if the words she wanted to say were caught halfway. For a moment, she didn't know how to explain. Taking in a deep breath, she finally spoke, her voice quieter than she intended.
"Mabel's the reason my engagement with Daniel got called off."
Denis was stunned. His brows shot up, and for a second, he looked as if the ground beneath him had shifted.
"She's probably thinking I'll get back at them," Victoria continued, bitterness lacing her tone, "by convincing you to call off the deal with the Harvards."
"So that's why she's being this way…" Denis muttered, his eyes darkening. A glint of something sharp—anger? protectiveness?—passed through his eyes, disappearing as quickly as it came. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Do you want me to seek revenge for you?" he asked solemnly, almost dangerously.
Victoria blinked, her heart skipping. The sincerity in his tone both startled and touched her. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I don't care about them. I just want to be far away from their drama."
"Okay," Denis said, studying her face as if trying to read what she wasn't saying. His voice softened, almost reluctant. "If you say so… Let me go drop you off."
"I came with my car," she declined, trying to put a wall back between them.
His lips curved, not quite a smile, but something that hinted at stubbornness. "I insist."
Defeated, she sighed and followed him. His presence was overwhelming, his stride confident, as though he was taking charge not just of her afternoon, but of her entire life.