Chapter 349

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden pools across the dining room. Isabella Langley stirred her spoon absently in the porcelain bowl.

"Try this, Isabella."

Alexander Roland's elegant fingers slid a perfectly dismantled crab across the table. The meat lay in meticulous rows within its shell. She accepted it gratefully, her fingertips brushing against his knuckles.

"Thank you, Alexander."

Her peripheral vision caught Sebastian Valdemar serving Evelyn Roland with practiced ease. His sculpted hands gleamed pale under the sunlight, the Patek Philippe on his wrist refracting sharp glares.

"The Valrose family specializes in construction materials, correct?"

Alexander's voice carried a thread of amusement. Oliver Valrose immediately straightened, launching into an enthusiastic monologue about his family's enterprises.

The clink of Isabella's spoon against china rang too loud. She watched Sebastian dab sauce from Evelyn's lips, her throat tightening.

"Our new development in the eastern district—"

Oliver continued his grand speech, oblivious to the exchanged glances between the Roland parents. Alexander peeled shrimp with deliberate slowness, his gaze flickering between Sebastian and Oliver.

The former now listened to Evelyn with bowed head, lashes casting delicate shadows. The latter waved his chopsticks, splattering oil stains across the pristine tablecloth.

"It's getting late."

The moment dessert plates were cleared, Alexander smiled at Oliver. Crystal chandelier light fractured across his glasses, obscuring the ice in his eyes.

"Isabella, see our guest out."

She startled to attention. As she rose, her skirt brushed Sebastian's chair. The man didn't even glance up, preoccupied with tucking a stray lock behind Evelyn's ear.

"Oliver—"

Her words died as she caught him staring at Evelyn's décolletage. Sebastian's head snapped up, dark pupils churning with violence.

"Something the matter, Mr. Valrose?"

Evelyn's feather-light voice sent Oliver flushing crimson. Isabella dug nails into her palms, watching Sebastian drape his tailored blazer over Evelyn's shoulders.

That bespoke piece she'd seen in last week's magazine—priced at six figures—now cocooned another woman.

"Little sister looks unwell."

Evelyn turned suddenly, her glassy eyes reflecting Isabella's contorted expression. Oliver had already fled toward the foyer, knocking over a celadon vase.

Alexander removed his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose. The chandelier stretched his shadow long across the floor.

"Wait for her return."

He murmured to his parents, gaze sliding to where Sebastian fastened a cashmere scarf around Evelyn's neck. The man's aristocratic profile belonged in a museum, yet his fingers moved with impossible tenderness.

The windows mirrored the wreckage—spilled wine bleeding across marble tiles like fresh wounds.