Chapter 24

Zachary thought he knew Giselle well. Familiarity with her background, however, didn't necessarily equate to understanding. Giselle scoffed. "For example," she said, "I'm not upper-crust. I might be Tony's daughter, but their wealth is irrelevant to me. Our family statuses don't match."

"And I'm not the type to be a caring mother," she continued. "Someone as reckless and wild as me isn't suited for relationships, let alone marriage."

Zachary laughed, relieved. "And here I was, thinking you'd say something serious! I don't care about social standing or motherhood—that's my uncle's concern. I have the right to choose my own wife. I just want someone unique—like you."

His passionate confession left Giselle speechless. Clasping her forehead, she said, "I'm really not an ideal partner. There are things I don't know how to explain..."

"Then don't," he replied. "I'm always up for adventure, and traditional women aren't my type." He clinked his glass with hers, affection smoldering in his gaze. "But a wild, mysterious woman like you? That's exactly my type..."

Giselle offered a helpless smile and toasted him. His naiveté was, truly, adorable. Over the years, she'd received countless confessions—cringy, passionate, romantic, artsy, naive, dramatic—but always viewed them as fleeting.

So, Zachary's confession left her calm. Yet, she realized she only felt truly at ease and happy with him. With him, she could let her guard down.

Later, they finished their meal in good spirits. Zachary paid the bill while Giselle freshened her makeup. From the restaurant's second floor, she spotted a tall, familiar figure. Was it him?

The dim lighting made her question if she was imagining things, but as the figure approached, she recognized Donovan. Had he been following her? She saw him with his assistant and two Frocian businessmen, being led to a private dining room. He was entertaining clients.

Giselle took a deep breath, regaining her composure. She didn't hide or leave; she simply waited until their eyes met. Donovan stopped dead in his tracks. Everyone around him turned to look.

"Uncle Don?"

Zachary, having just paid, also saw Donovan. He greeted him casually, "Are you here for dinner too?"

Donovan's expression turned grim upon seeing both his nephew and Giselle. "Oh, right. This is Ms. Holt, the one I brought to your villa for a swim. You've met her before, right?"

Zachary, putting an arm around Giselle, brazenly replied, "We just finished dinner. We're going to play tennis, so we'll be home late."

Donovan said nothing, but his cold gaze remained fixed on Giselle. Giselle, catching the anger in his eyes, sneered. She didn't mind Zachary's arm around her.

"Alright then, Uncle Don. We'll let you get back to work," Zachary said, gesturing to the businessmen. He gently led Giselle away. As they passed, she gave Donovan a suggestive look before descending the stairs. Donovan appeared composed, but inwardly, he was plotting his response.