Chapter 91: Dina Crashes the Game

The next morning, breakfast was silent.

Cora and Julian sat at opposite ends of the long dining table, eating in wordless truce.

He hadn’t come to their bedroom the previous night. They were back to separate rooms, separate beds, separate lives.

Cora felt a quiet relief. Good. It’s easier this way.

“You’re pregnant,” Julian said suddenly, setting down his chopsticks. “You’re not playing golf today.” His brow furrowed. “Do you even know how?”

“I can just watch,” she said quickly. “A little walking will be good for the baby.”

His hand froze mid-motion. His gaze lifted, sharp and unreadable.

Cora felt her stomach tighten. Did he already guess she planned to bring Dina along?

She looked away, and that small, guilty gesture landed like a confession.

Julian’s fingers tightened around his chopsticks. A sharp crack broke the tension — the wood splintered clean in half.

The butler blanched. “Master Julian, I’ll fetch another—”

“No need.” Julian’s tone was glacial. “I’m done.”

He slammed the broken chopsticks onto the table and stood.

Cora flinched.

Julian, I’m sorry.

Dina’s sick — she doesn’t have much time left. I just want to keep her company for a while. I’ll stay out of the way. Please don’t be angry.

But she said nothing.

When he stalked out to wait for the car, Cora followed quietly.

If she was right, Dina would already be at the golf resort.

In the back seat, they sat apart — two statues sharing one silent vehicle.

⸻

The Watson-owned golf estate was sprawling, lush, and immaculate, a playground for Lindon City’s elite. The morning sun shimmered on rolling greens and glass-front villas.

When the motorcade stopped in the Watsons’ private section, Cora spotted a familiar figure lingering among the staff. Dina — disguised in a crisp white uniform — waved discreetly from a distance.

Cora texted her their location.

We’re in Zone One.

The resort had eight sections, each with private lounges, courses, spas, and restaurants. Watson Group owned the best one outright. Shuttle carts connected the rest.

As soon as Cora entered her lounge, Dina slipped in from behind the door like a cat.

Cora turned, startled—then burst out laughing. “Dina! Even in a staff uniform, you look amazing. I could never pull that off. Give me another week and my belly will start showing—I’ll look like a walking balloon next to you.”

Dina’s eyes flicked down to Cora’s stomach. For a split second, jealousy flared—dark and sharp—before she forced it away.

She smiled sweetly. “Oh, Cora, I’m the one who should be jealous of you.”

Cora sighed. “Jealous? I’m just a glorified incubator. Julian and I barely have a marriage. We’re only together because of this baby. Once I give birth, I’ll be gone. You’ll probably have to take me in.”

Dina’s lashes fluttered. Her pulse jumped. Gone? She’s leaving him?

The bitterness inside her instantly flipped to elation.

If Cora planned to walk away, then Julian would be available.

All I have to do is make him look at me again.

She regretted not going further with him back then—thinking distance would keep his desire burning. Foolish mistake. But now? She’d fix it.

Tonight, the guests would all stay at the resort. She’d have her chance.

“Rest for a bit,” Cora said, glancing at her watch. “I need to greet our guests. I’ll come find you later.”

Dina’s eyes followed the glint of Cora’s diamond-studded watch, her envy slicing clean through her smile.

Everything she has should’ve been mine.

⸻

Julian was already outside, dressed head-to-toe in white. The tailored golf polo, the lean frame, the calm authority — he drew attention like gravity.

Every woman on the field stole glances at him.

He didn’t notice. He was waiting for Cora.

When she finally appeared, sunlight tracing her outline, he let his eyes flick over her once — cool, assessing — but his heartbeat betrayed him.

So the little mouse can look stunning after all…

And he would know.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said softly.

He turned his face away before she could see the brief warmth in his eyes. “Liam will be here soon. You shouldn’t exert yourself — walk around, get some air.”

“Alright.” She smiled faintly.

Minutes later, a sleek black car rolled up to the curb. The murmurs among the crowd rose immediately.

When Liam Mayer stepped out, the air shifted.

Even Julian’s dominance couldn’t erase the man’s quiet charisma.

If Julian was fire, Liam was ice — poised, untouchable, magnetic.

“Mr. Mayer,” Julian greeted smoothly. “Good mood today?”

“With Watson Group hosting, how could I not be?” Liam replied, shaking his hand before turning to Cora. “And you, Mrs. Watson — that outfit suits you.”

Cora blushed, offering a polite handshake. “Thank you.”

The moment their hands met, Liam’s expression froze for half a heartbeat. That touch — soft, slender, hauntingly familiar.

Qara.

He masked it instantly, releasing her hand with practiced ease.

Julian watched the exchange like a hawk.

Cora’s calm, polite demeanor eased him for an instant — until he remembered: she’d never looked at him that way either.

The thought made his jaw tighten.

Cora, oblivious to his turmoil, smiled at both men. “The weather’s perfect. Why not start with a warm-up round? I’ve heard Mr. Mayer’s game is legendary. Jule’s been complaining he never finds a worthy rival.”

Her tone was light, teasing — a perfect hostess.

Julian arched a brow, his lips curving just enough to look civil.

“Then let’s see if legends live up to their names.”