Chapter 26 The Only Cause of Her Jealousy
After the servants were dismissed, Bianca let the steel in her voice fade. She turned to Terrence, her tone calm but edged with curiosity. "You really have nothing you want to ask me?"
Terrence looked up at her with a faint, almost lazy glance. "What do you want me to ask?"
She pressed her lips together, irritation flickering in her eyes. "How would I know where she dug up that trash? Those were just messy little things I wrote back in school."
"Don't be mad. From now on, every love letter I write will be yours."
Bianca looped her arm through his, giving it a playful shake.
He was no fool. Blair's intentions were painfully obvious. What mattered to him was whether Samuel and Bianca's past was truly as deep as some people liked to claim.
"There's a business dinner tonight. I want you to come with me."
Bianca's expression shifted, becoming more serious. She knew the kind of people Terrence dealt with—figures of influence, people whose names carried weight. This sort of event was nothing like the social gatherings James had hosted. This was Terrence officially bringing her into his circle.
"No problem. I'll make sure to do well."
By seven that evening, Bianca's makeup was flawless and her hair swept into elegant waves. She slipped into the white satin gown Barry had sent over, the fabric catching the light with a subtle sheen. Pearls glimmered at her ears and throat, making her skin look even more luminous.
When Terrence saw her, his stride faltered almost imperceptibly.
In the car, Bianca sat upright, hands resting neatly in her lap, a trace of nervousness in her posture. "When we get there, is there anything I should be careful about?"
"No. Just behave naturally. Remember, from tonight on, you represent the Anderson family."
His low voice brushed against her ear, steady and sure. Bianca nodded, watching the city lights streak past the window.
They arrived at the venue quickly. Inside, guests were deep in conversation—some seizing the opportunity to forge new alliances, others already negotiating the finer points of future deals. The air was warm with laughter and the clink of glasses.
Until the moment they walked in.
Conversations faltered, eyes turning toward the entrance. Blair had learned from her last poor showing at a social event; tonight she had dressed to impress. A deep wine-red backless gown clung to her frame, a champagne flute poised in her hand. Beside her stood Samuel.
"Mr. Terrence Anderson!" someone called, and another voice followed, "And this must be his fiancée?"
Blair and Samuel turned together. At the sight of Bianca on Terrence's arm, Blair's smile tightened, jealousy burning hot beneath her polished exterior. Her fingers curled around the stem of her glass until her knuckles whitened.
"Samuel, let's go say hello to Terrence and Bianca," she suggested, her tone light but her eyes sharp.
Before Samuel could answer, Blair was already moving toward them. She timed it perfectly—her long gown trailing just so—as she let out a small gasp and pitched forward, aiming to fall into Terrence's arms.
The rescue never came.
Terrence stepped back with deliberate precision, letting her hit the polished floor with a soft thud. The glass slipped from her hand, champagne splashing across her gown.
She looked up at him with wide, glistening eyes. "Mr. Anderson, my ankle hurts… would you help me up?" She extended her hand, waiting for him to take it.
Bianca's irritation flared. Without hesitation, she slid closer to Terrence, her fingers threading through his in a firm, unmistakable gesture. There would be no free hand for Blair to take.
Terrence's mouth curved in the faintest hint of amusement, catching her small act of possessiveness.
Blair's hand hung awkwardly in the air. Before the moment could stretch into something even more humiliating, Samuel stepped in, his voice taut. "Blair, are you all right?" He helped her up quickly, salvaging what little dignity she had left.
"I'm fine… the skirt was too long, I tripped over it," she murmured. But she could already hear the whispers rippling through the crowd, each one a needle pricking at her composure.
Samuel's gaze slid to Bianca, suspicion tightening his features. "Bianca, Blair is your sister. How could you treat her like this?"
Bianca's eyes narrowed. The accusation landed without warning, sharp and undeserved. "Samuel, do you hear yourself? You think everyone here's blind? And you — which miracle eye of yours saw me trip her?
"She just said it herself—her skirt was too long and she tripped. Are you deaf?"
Samuel's mouth opened, then shut again.
Blair tugged lightly at his sleeve, her voice pitched low but loud enough for the surrounding guests to hear. "Samuel, don't say that. Otherwise Bianca will misunderstand me even more. I don't want to be the reason the two of you have problems… please, talk to her calmly.
"Bianca, Samuel was only concerned. There's no need to be jealous."
The shift in the room was immediate. Eyes that had been merely curious now gleamed with renewed interest. Many here had attended Lyanna's birthday party and remembered the drama that had unfolded there. They had thought it was over. Clearly, it was not.
"Jealous?" Terrence's voice cut through the murmurs. It wasn't loud, but it carried, silencing the room.
He tightened his arm around Bianca's waist, his gaze sweeping over Blair and Samuel like a blade. "If my fiancée is ever jealous, it'll be for one reason — me."
He leaned down, his mouth close to Bianca's ear, but his words carried clearly enough for everyone to hear. "The reason I didn't help Ms. Ember just now… was because I didn't want you to be jealous."
Samuel stiffened under the weight of Terrence's stare, stepping back instinctively.
Terrence straightened, his voice carrying the quiet authority that made men think twice before speaking. "Bianca is my chosen fiancée. She is the future mistress of the Anderson family. From this moment on, anyone who spreads falsehoods about her…" He let the pause hang, his eyes cold as winter steel. "…is making themselves my enemy."
The silence was absolute. No one doubted he meant every word.
Bianca looked up at him, her heart thudding with something she couldn't quite name.
Later, as the dinner progressed, Bianca excused herself to the restroom to clean a small stain from her gown. When she stepped back into the hallway, Samuel was waiting.
"Bianca, we need to talk."
Her brows drew together. "We have nothing to talk about."
"Just five minutes," he urged, stepping closer. "My company is in trouble. I need capital to get through this. For the sake of what we had, could you speak to Terrence for me?"
Bianca's laugh was sharp, without humor. "Samuel, you're dreaming."
She turned to leave, but his hand shot out, gripping her wrist. "Bianca, don't forget how you used to chase after me."