Chapter 265

Chapter 265:
He understood the police wouldn’t spill anything since this was a confidential investigation. So, for now, all he could do was wait.
“Yes, sir!” Eugene replied, getting to work immediately.
After the call, Brandon’s gaze flicked over to Millie, sitting quietly in her seat.
Should he tell her about it?
He hesitated.
As he sat thinking, he glanced at his phone and saw that Vivian had called—and left a message after.
“Brandon, the police reached out—they were asking questions about Macaulay. What should I say?”
Another message followed. “I said some random stuff, then told them I was unwell and sent them away, but they’ll probably follow up. I’m heading over now, just to quickly sort out what we should say. Ten minutes max. I know you’re at that wine tasting with her—we really need to talk.”
Even before he could process it fully, the phone lit up again. Vivian was calling. Millie, still seated, turned slightly as if she felt something shift. She caught sight of Brandon in the aisle, his brows furrowed as he stared at his screen, mumbling something under his breath before swiftly stepping out. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ
What was that about?
She didn’t know—and honestly, she didn’t feel like chasing answers.
She came for two things.
First, to answer Brandon’s questions about Ari. She had given him enough time to talk. That was done.
Second—Babette.
What was Babette really planning by inviting her over tonight?
Millie turned to the stage.
Lᴀτєѕτ chⲁρτєrs ιn g𝓪l𝗇ovєls.𝑎𝓂
Babette was wrapping up her speech.
With a graceful wave of her hand, a group of waiters wheeled in a long table. It held rows of glasses filled with gleaming wine, each catching the light like cut glass.
“This batch is from a private vineyard in Fiesta,” Babette said gently, her eyes barely grazing Millie. “Some of these bottles are nearly impossible to find elsewhere. Even the owner’s personal brew is included.” A small smile tugged at her lips.
“And one of these is especially dear to the owner,” she continued. “The owner made this wine—his own creation. He named it ‘Miss.’”
Miss?
Was there a story behind the name?
Millie reached for the brochure on the table. The picture and words pulled her in immediately.
“Miss” was a red wine made by the vineyard’s owner four years ago.
“Four years? That’s not exactly rare. Doesn’t seem special.”
.
.
.