Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Jenny paused, really taking in what Christopher had just said. 

Her mind went blank for a moment, but she clearly remembered Isabella saying before they came that she and Christopher were still dating.

Jenny's blurry gaze fell back on Christopher, noticing his fancy clothes and the confident way he carried himself. He had to be someone important.

Jenny had heard stories about rich guys playing games with girls. Was Christopher not serious about Isabella? Was he just messing around?

Worry gnawed at Jenny. Isabella was just a sweet young girl, no match for a guy like Christopher, whether it was in love or in wits.

Feeling more anxious and unable to sit still, especially since Isabella was taking so long to come back, Jenny nervously fidgeted with the hem of her slightly faded dress. 

Finally, she stood up awkwardly and said to Christopher, "I need to... I need to use the restroom."

Her back seemed even more hunched as she left, making her look older and more frail.

When Isabella returned, the door to the private room was ajar. Her grandmother was nowhere to be seen, and there were several new people inside. 

One voice was familiar—it was Earl, who had been to the coffee shop before.

Worried about Jenny, Isabella was about to turn and look for her when she heard a man's teasing voice from inside, "Christopher, are you serious? You're even meeting Isabella's grandma?"

Isabella froze, her whole body stiffening.

Earl laughed, "What are you talking about? There are tons of heiresses lining up to meet Christopher, and he doesn't even look at them. He's only doing this because of a bet with me."

"But I really didn't expect to lose," Earl said regretfully, patting Christopher on the shoulder. "I thought Isabella was pretty aloof and wouldn't be won over so quickly. Otherwise, I wouldn't have bet so much."

Christopher's anger from feeling played by Jenny and Isabella hadn't gone away. He took a sip of red wine, his long fingers gently caressing the glass, and said coldly, "What's so special about her? They all sound the same in bed."

His words were full of disdain, as if Isabella were no different from any discarded trash.

The red wine swirled in the glass, reflecting the mocking smile on Christopher's lips. The others laughed at his words.

Someone asked, "I saw them earlier. Their clothes were practically falling apart. Christopher, doesn't it bother you to sleep with someone like that? Doesn't she smell like garbage?"

The room erupted in laughter again. To them, this was just idle chatter, inconsequential and demeaning.

Isabella, standing outside the door, took a step back in disbelief, her whole body trembling uncontrollably. She didn't know if it was from anger or the cold.

She had always been aware of the class gap between herself and Christopher, and had tried to keep her distance. 

Isabella knew they came from different worlds, separated by an invisible wall that kept people like them apart.

She knew that forcing her way into his world would only end in humiliation. 

But she had thought Christopher was different. He had always been quiet and polite at the coffee shop, refined and well-mannered. Even when they were together, he maintained a respectful distance.

Earl continued, "So, how long are you gonna keep this up if it's just a game?"

Someone else chimed in, "Isabella's pretty hot. If you're done with her, why not let us have a turn?"

"Well, do you like that garbage smell too?"

The room filled with laughter again. 

Suddenly, the door swung open, and the men turned to see Isabella standing there. 

They didn't seem embarrassed at being caught, only curious as they sized her up, like they were trying to tear her apart with their eyes.

Christopher's gaze fell on Isabella without a hint of panic, as if she were completely inconsequential.

Isabella stared directly at Christopher, her voice steady despite her trembling, "Mr. Harrison, don't you know if I have a smell? You're just gonna let them talk like that?"

Christopher's eyes turned even colder.

Isabella stepped closer, looking down at him with tears welling up in her eyes but refusing to fall. "Do you know my grandmother wore her favorite outfit just to meet you?"

Christopher's pupils dilated slightly, his high-bridged nose and thin lips forming a tight, hard line. 

His face was undeniably handsome, but beneath that facade lay a heart full of malice.

He was just like the others in the room. They looked down on those of lower status, playing with their lives and emotions with arrogant disdain.

Isabella suddenly laughed, "So this is what rich people are like. Christopher, I'm done playing. Goodbye!"

Earl shouted after her, "You're just a cheap woman! What right do you have—"

Without turning around, Isabella coldly retorted, "To me, you're not any more noble."

Then she walked straight out.

Earl, furious at being ignored, moved to chase after her.

"Enough," Christopher's voice was dark and menacing. "Leave."

Earl wanted to argue, but the others, seeing Christopher's darkened expression, dragged him out of the room and shut the door.

Christopher was left alone in the dimly lit room, his emotions obscured by the shadows.

That night, Christopher watched as Isabella helped Jenny into a taxi. Isabella's figure looked especially small and stubborn in the rain. 

The taxi's taillights quickly became distant, fading into the rainy night and disappearing from Christopher's life...

—

When they reached the villa, Christopher carried the sleeping Isabella into the guest room. 

The moon was bright and clear, casting a gentle light through the window, adding a touch of romance to the air.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night breeze brushing his face. 

Christopher took a cigarette from his pocket, the glow of the ember flickering as smoke rose, blurring the complex emotions in his eyes.

The next morning, Isabella woke up groggily and checked her phone. Chloe had sent several messages.

[Isabella, did you see the news about Samuel's company?]

[It's insane!]

Chloe had been at the party last night and knew exactly what had happened. 

She had a strong sense of justice but felt powerless to do anything. Seeing the news first thing in the morning, she immediately reached out to Isabella.

Still half-asleep, Isabella replied with a simple question mark.