Chapter 924

[ 668 words ]

Hearing the commotion, Juniper and Shanley looked toward the source of the noise.

At the exact same time, the alluring woman turned her head, her profile slowly coming into view.

Just as their eyes were about to meet, a waiter carrying a tray of drinks suddenly stepped between them.

The angle perfectly blocked their line of sight.

Coralie had wanted to see who they were, but the waiter was in the way.

“I can’t believe someone else likes that flavor.”

She frowned slightly, her red lips parting. “And to eat so much of it all at once.”

She had thought she was the only one with such bizarre tastes.

“Fine.”

Coralie looked away and tossed her long hair, her delicate chin tilting upward. “Pack up some other food and send it to my private room. Oh, and no onions. He hates them.”

“Right away.”

The manager nodded frantically and immediately ordered his staff to get it done.

On the other side of the room.

Juniper and Shanley were also quite curious about who commanded such a grand entrance.

Unfortunately, the waiter had interrupted their view.

By the time he moved, the woman had already walked away, surrounded by a crowd.

“What are you looking at?”

Shanley asked, noticing her staring blankly into the distance.

“Her back looks nice,” Juniper replied lazily. “She kind of looks like Celine.” “Really?”

Shanley ruffled the girl’s hair, took her hand, and said softly, “I actually think she looks more like you.”

“Oh, really?”

Hearing this, Juniper bristled like an angry kitten, glaring at him with a dark expression. “Mr. Schwartz sure looks closely at beautiful women.”

Shanley’s lips twitched helplessly. He hadn’t been looking on purpose.

But upon reflection, he realized there was no good way to explain himself since he had looked.

He genuinely just felt she resembled his girl.

But it was only a fleeting impression-she definitely wasn’t as pretty as his Juniper.

“I was wrong,” Shanley sighed. “If I ever dare look around again, I’ll blind myself. How about that?”

Knowing he was just running his mouth, Juniper couldn’t be bothered to entertain him. She pushed his hand away and headed for the door.

“Heh.”

Carrying her bag, Shanley took large strides to catch up with her.

The two left one after the other.

They hadn’t gone far when Coralie stepped out of her private room, carrying her packed food.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the man and woman at the entrance.

Their heights were a perfect match, their auras outstanding; just their silhouettes were eye-catching enough.

The two seemed to be bickering. The girl playfully punched the man’s chest in annoyance.

The man didn’t get angry; instead, he smiled, caught her hand, and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

The girl was instantly pacified, leaning closer to him as they walked out shoulder-to- shoulder.

They looked so in love, so happy.

In love?

Happy?

She never expected she could still feel the weight of those two words just by looking

at someone else’s romance.

Once…

She should have been just as happy as that girl.

It was a pity there were no “what ifs.”

Thinking

faint that foreign concept, the

smile faded from Coralie’s lips,

veline

of sorrow flashing

through her cold eyes.

But the sadness lasted only a few seconds before vanishing completely.

“Ms. Quill, is everything alright?” The manager asked cautiously noticing, her suddenly stop and change fer expression.

“It’s nothing.”

When she turned back around, Coralie had resumed her usual lazy,

seductive, and carefree

demeanor the heartbreaker who

didn’t give a damn about anyone.

“Make more of those cakes from now on; I might want them at any time. Put any unsold ones on my tab.”

After giving her instructions, Coralie took her food and left.

“Understood.”

The manager replied, completely bewildered, though he maintained a respectful smile as he saw her out.

That evening.

Coralie returned home.

The sprawling mansion, worth nearly a hundred million, was brightly lit, but the

furniture and decorations were sparse.

It lacked any trace of warmth or life.

Calling it an icebox wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

She set her things down, kicked off her high heels, and collapsed exhaustedly onto

the sofa.

Staring up at the dazzling crystal chandelier, her eyes held nothing but dead silence.

“Ms. Quill.”

Just as she was lost in thought, loud footsteps echoed from upstairs.

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