Chapter 517
Chapter 517:
Isolde tightened her hold on Effie and looked up at Arland, apology evident in her expression.
“I ruined tonight,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Arland. I’m sorry you both got dragged into this p>
Arland shook his head and reached out, gently smoothing a strand of wind-tousled hair from her temple. The touch was natural and kind — no overreach, only quiet care.
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “As long as you and Effie are safe, tonight isn’t ruined. Nothing else matters p>
Warm streetlight spilled over the three of them, casting a soft, unhurried glow. Arland’s attentiveness, Isolde’s quiet composure, the sleeping child cradled between them — to anyone watching, they looked like a happy, complete family, perfectly at peace.
𝘉𝖾 t𝗵e f𝗶rѕ𝗍 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝖾а𝖽 𝘰𝗇
Someone was watching.
From the second-floor balcony, Daron McKnight leaned against the railing with a glass of whiskey, surveying the street below with an amused, mocking smirk. He glanced sideways at Grayson, who stood motionless in the balcony’s shadow, and let out a short scoff.
“Look at that, Grayson. Your ex-wife and that engineer — they look like the perfect couple. Pretty convincing, don’t you think p>
Grayson said nothing. He stood hidden in the dark, his presence cold and oppressive. His fingers were wrapped around the metal railing with a grip so tight his knuckles had gone white.
He watched without moving as Arland carefully lifted Effie from Isolde’s arms, settled her gently into the back seat, fastened the harness with practiced patience, then circled to the other side and held the passenger door open for Isolde — unhurried, attentive, and precise in every small motion.
These were things he had never done. He had always been too occupied, too dismissive — every errand, every act of care delegated to his driver without a second thought, never once extending this kind of tenderness himself.
Sharp, consuming jealousy coiled through his chest like a slow poison. Regret and resentment tangled together until it was difficult to breathe — and beneath it all, a raw, unfamiliar fear of loss that he had never felt before and didn’t know how to hold.
Belle crossed to his side in her high heels, followed his gaze down to the street, and let out a derisive snort.
“Hmph. Isolde only deserves a nobody like that. Arland might have some talent, but he’s just a hired hand. He can’t begin to compare to the Lancaster family. He’s nothing p>
Grayson turned his head sharply, his gaze dark and dangerous.
“Arland is the CTO of Vertex Tech,” he said, his voice cutting and flat. “He owns more company stock than either of us could imagine. Don’t be so arrogant, Belle. Ignorance only makes you look foolish p>
Belle stopped mid-sentence, her smug expression collapsing. She stared at him, stunned — she had never expected Grayson to defend the man standing in his place.
Below, the car prepared to pull away. Isolde sat in the passenger seat and looked up instinctively toward the second-floor balcony. Her expression was calm, entirely empty.