Chapter 828
The aroma of tea lingered in the air.
Bianca Langley took a sip from her cup, her brows furrowing slightly. The same tea leaves that had tasted rich and sweet at the Hamiltons' now left nothing but bitterness on her tongue.
"Just water, please," she signaled to the waiter.
Vincent Croix's gaze never left her. Three years had changed her—the sharpness in her eyes had intensified, yet her movements carried a new ease.
A pang of regret twisted inside him.
If only she'd obeyed him back then, she wouldn't have become this version of herself.
"Can we talk alone?" Vincent lowered his voice. "Some things shouldn't be said in front of others."
Evelyn Carter and Alexander Hamilton exchanged a glance. Only after Bianca gave a slight nod did they rise and move toward the lounge area outside the side door.
Alexander pulled out a sanitizing wipe, meticulously cleaning the wooden chair.
"Since when did you develop germaphobia?" Evelyn chuckled.
"Proximity breeds similarity." Alexander helped her sit before settling beside her. "I never noticed how offensive dust was before."
Evelyn blinked. "Or maybe someone always cleaned it for you?"
Alexander paused, then laughed. "Then I'll be the one wiping it down from now on."
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows across them. Were it not for needing to keep watch over Vincent, this would've made for a perfect date.
Back at the tea table, the air was so still the ripple of water could be heard.
Bianca drank her water leisurely until Vincent placed his hand on the table—a wedding band glaringly visible on his ring finger.
"I thought you threw it away," she sneered.
During their divorce, both rings had been flung out the window. That hers had been recovered was miracle enough—where had his come from?
"Custom-made." Vincent rubbed the band. "An exact replica."
Bianca set down her glass with a sharp clink.
"Counterfeits will always be counterfeits." She locked eyes with him. "Just like how killing Adrian changed nothing."
Even now, saying Adrian's name sent a stab through her heart. But time was the best healer, and hatred the strongest painkiller.
Vincent's gaze darted around, checking for recording devices before scowling. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Relax, I'm not that petty." Bianca's lips curled mockingly. "There are countless ways to ruin you. How many enemies have you made climbing to your current position?"
Vincent paled but held his ground. "What will it take for you to forgive me?"
"Simple." Bianca stood. "When you're dead, I'll personally place flowers on your grave."
Vincent grabbed her wrist. "Baby Chloe is our daughter—you can't possibly—"
Before he could finish, a glass of ice water hit him square in the face.
Vincent gasped as his expensive suit soaked through. Water dripped from his hair as he gritted his teeth. "Feel better now?"
Bianca snatched the teapot, pouring scalding liquid over his head.
"How about now?" she demanded.
Vincent hissed from the burn but refused to release her. "Pour all you want—if it makes you happy."
His performative devotion turned her stomach. She yanked free, only for his grip to tighten.
Outside the side door, Evelyn and Alexander immediately rushed toward them.