Chapter 513

Chapter 513:

Grayson Lancaster stepped inside wearing a perfectly tailored dark gray suit, radiating a cold, effortless authority. His expression was unreadable — a wall of detachment that made him the center of every room without any visible effort on his part.

Belle Escobar clung tightly to his arm, bold and deliberate in a bright red gown, her makeup polished to ostentatious precision. She moved with calculated poise, clearly there to be seen on his arm.

Daron McKnight followed beside them, casual and loud, leaning in to deliver jokes with exaggerated gestures and no regard for anyone nearby — the portrait of a man who had never once been made to feel out of place.

Isolde’s skin prickled. She stepped back instinctively, turning to retreat to the private room before this became anything more than a glimpse.

Luck was not on her side.

Daron had sharp eyes. He spotted Isolde at the railing immediately and let out a loud, careless whistle.

“Well, well — if it isn’t my former sister-in-law. Fancy seeing you here p>

𝖩oi𝗇 𝗼u𝗋 𝗰𝗈𝗆𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 on

At that, Grayson’s expression shifted. He snapped his head up, his gaze cutting through the crowd and locking onto Isolde on the second floor with unsettling precision. Time seemed to pause as their eyes met. His expression was dark and unreadable — surprise, scrutiny, and something else underneath, something she couldn’t name and that gave her nothing to work with.

Belle followed his gaze upward to Isolde. Her proud smile froze for a fraction of a second before she pasted on a warm, practiced look, the hostility carefully buried beneath it.

She squeezed Grayson’s arm and tugged it lightly, her voice rising into something sugary and deliberate.

“Since we ran into each other, let’s go say hello. We’re old friends — it would be rude not to p>

She steered Grayson toward the second-floor staircase. Daron followed with a smirk. They moved directly toward Isolde, leaving her no clean way out.

Isolde drew a slow breath and held her ground. Her posture was straight and composed, her aura turning cool and deliberately remote.

Grayson stopped in front of her a moment later. His eyes moved briefly from her face to the collarbone and shoulders left bare by the dark green velvet dress. His frown tightened, and when he spoke, his voice was low and carried an edge she recognized as something close to irritation.

“You’re wearing too little p>

Isolde lifted her chin. Her eyes were cold and level.

“That is none of your concern, Mr. Lancaster p>

The formal address darkened his expression. Daron spoke before either of them could continue, his tone cutting and dismissive as he glanced toward the private room.

“Heard it’s your birthday. What, only Arland as company? No one decent around to keep you entertained p>

The private room door opened sharply. Harper stepped out and moved in front of Isolde without hesitation, planting herself as a barrier. She fixed Daron with a direct, unapologetic glare.

“Watch your mouth, Daron. We’ve booked half this floor tonight. We don’t want troublemakers anywhere near it p>