Chapter 146
Jared finally released me, his expression smoothing back into its usual controlled mask. “Let’s go,” he said, stepping back.
I watched his retreating figure, my lips curling in cold amusement. Was he really worried about losing control over me? Pathetic.
The party hall was opulent, filled with well-dressed guests milling about. Jared’s cousin’s family stood near the entrance, greeting arrivals.
Jared’s uncle John had moved to Shariport years ago. Though not in the business world himself, John still owned two companies, having made his fortune reselling electronics back in the day. The man had old-money savvy and the bank account to match.
When we arrived, John personally escorted us to a private dining room. Jared seemed to recognize most of the guests there, but they were strangers to me.
It was a celebration, so many had brought wives or children. As I took my seat, I discreetly studied the wealthy women around me.
Their faces were meticulously maintained, their designer outfits flawless. But their eyes betrayed a quiet dissatisfaction, a hollowness behind the polished smiles.
I saw myself in them, the version of me from my previous life, drowning in loneliness beneath a glittering facade.
I wondered if my own eyes still carried traces of that darkness. But I refused to be that woman again. This time, I would be someone entirely new.
As the wine flowed and conversation buzzed, I realized just how influential the guests were. But I also noticed one thing: Jared made sure I didn’t exchange a single business card with any man there.
So much for networking. I nearly laughed. Of course he didn’t want me building my own connections. Typical.
To Jared, my management of Harmonia Hotel was just a hobby, something to keep me occupied but never powerful enough to rival him. I’d been naive to think I could easily tap into his circle.
Trailing beside Jared, I collected compliments like trophies. Some men’s gazes lingered a beat too long, their interest unmistakable.
A woman’s most captivating asset isn’t just her appearance, it’s vitality: that radiant, well-nourished glow that comes from within, the kind that makes men instinctively lean closer like sunflowers chasing daylight.
Tonight, their attention had nothing to do with Jared’s status. It was the flush in my cheeks from proper self-care, the effortless confidence of someone who’d stopped fighting herself.
By the third round of toasts, Jared was pleasantly drunk. I sipped my Bordeaux, hyperaware of the heat in the stare beside me.
Turning, I found Jared watching me through lowered lashes, that familiar possessive gleam in his eyes. My stomach twisted. What now? Am I back to being his arm candy?
At its core, this was just male ego running wild. I avoided his gaze and stood abruptly. “Restroom,” I announced. He nodded absently.
The party hall’s opulence suddenly felt suffocating. Instead of heading to the ladies’ room, I slipped through a side exit into a hushed corridor connecting to the adjacent five-star hotel.
The quiet was a relief. I decided to take the scenic route back, anything to delay returning to that den of intoxicated posturing.
“Ugh…” The retching sound came from behind a potted fern. A hunched figure in a white tee clutched the planter, platinum chain glinting under recessed lighting.
“Got any tissues?” the stranger rasped without turning.
Digging into my clutch, I offered a packet of Vinda wipes. “Thanks,” he mumbled, wiping his mouth. When he finally looked up, I caught my breath.
The kid couldn’t be older than twenty-one. But god—that face. All sharp cheekbones and insolent charm, like a young aristocrat who’d stumbled out of a coming-of-age film.
He staggered upright, flashing a grin that made his chain gleam. “Appreciate it, Ma’am.” His voice held that raw, just-matured timbre unique to college boys.
I asked him, “Are you here for the wedding next door?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”