Chapter 118
Harper closed the invitation, her fingertips lightly tracing the embossed pattern on its surface.
Now that she'd severed ties with the Martinez family, connections were essential if she wanted to truly establish herself in Rosewood City's business circles. The olive branch Abigail had extended—she had no reason to refuse it.
"Help me prepare an appropriate gift," Harper said, tucking the invitation away. "I need to attend this party."
Meanwhile, at Celestial Garden Hotel.
The White Group's signing gala was in full swing in the top-floor ballroom—a sea of designer gowns, champagne flutes, and calculated smiles.
Brandon stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, wine glass in hand, his expression glacial.
Luna swept through the crowd in an ostentatious white gown like a preening peacock, periodically casting meaningful glances his way, desperately trying to create the impression of intimacy between them.
Brandon found the charade nauseating.
If he weren't using the White Group's event as cover for his own strategic purposes, he wouldn't have set foot in this place.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out. A message from one of his people.
Opening it, he found a surveillance photo.
The background showed a restaurant near the hospital.
Harper and Robert sat side by side, with that boy Steven between them.
Harper was leaning down to serve the child food, her expression so tender it could melt stone. Robert had his head tilted slightly toward her, his gaze filled with unmistakable adoration.
The three of them together created a picture of domestic bliss—the perfect little family unit.
Brandon stared at the screen, his pupils contracting violently.
Jealousy erupted in his chest like poisoned weeds, spreading wildly, incinerating what remained of his rationality.
She'd rather smile that radiantly at someone else's child than give him a single kind look.
She'd rather eat in some cheap restaurant with Robert than accept anything he offered.
"Brandon, why are you standing here all alone?" Luna approached with a wine glass, her voice syrupy as she reached to take his arm. "My father was just looking for you. He wants you to meet a few of the board members—"
"Stay away from me."
Brandon bit out the words, his voice quiet but laced with bone-deep frost.
Luna's smile froze mid-expression, her outstretched hand hanging awkwardly in the air. "Brandon, you—"
Brandon didn't spare her a glance. He slammed his wine glass down on a passing server's tray and strode out of the ballroom, leaving behind a cold, decisive silhouette.
Eight PM, Starlight Building.
Harper had just finished working late and walked wearily through the lobby's revolving doors.
She pulled her trench coat tighter around herself and had just started toward her car when a black Maybach screeched to a halt directly in front of her.
The door flew open and Brandon emerged, bringing with him an aura of cold fury.
He wore an impeccably tailored black suit tonight, though his tie had been yanked loose.
Before Harper could react, he'd closed the distance and seized her wrist in an iron grip.
"What are you doing? Let go!" Harper's brow furrowed as she struggled.
"You're having dinner with me." Brandon's voice was hoarse, brooking no refusal. Ignoring her protests, he yanked open the passenger door and physically pushed her inside.
The locks clicked. The Maybach shot into the night like an arrow released from a bow.
The atmosphere in the car was suffocating. Harper stared coldly out the window, saying nothing.
The car finally stopped in front of an elite French restaurant.
The entire establishment had been cleared. The vast dining room stood empty except for a few dim crystal chandeliers, violin music drifting through the air.
Brandon pulled her to a window table.
Servers quickly brought out exquisite dishes, followed by an enormous bouquet of red roses placed before Harper.
The lush petals still glistened with water droplets, their heavy fragrance filling the air.
Harper looked at the ostentatious bouquet, her eyes holding not a trace of delight—only cold mockery. "What exactly is this supposed to mean, Mr. Martinez? Fresh from Ms. White's signing gala and now you're here performing devotion for me?"
Brandon's fingers tightened violently around his silverware. Looking at her ice-cold expression, bitterness and rage twisted together in his chest.
He suddenly stood, circled the table, and hauled her out of her chair.
"Harper, do you have to speak to me with this constant edge?" His eyes were bloodshot as he stared her down.
"What else should I do? Fall all over myself with gratitude for your flowers?" Harper met his gaze without flinching, her tone arctic.
In that moment, his last thread of control snapped.
Brandon gripped the back of her head and crushed his mouth against hers in a brutal kiss.
The kiss was saturated with suppressed violence and desperation. He forced her lips apart, plundering her breath with near-feral intensity, as if he could somehow consume her entirely.
Harper shoved against his chest, but couldn't budge him an inch.
Only when she was nearly suffocating did Brandon release her slightly.
Their foreheads pressed together, his breathing ragged, crimson flames churning in his dark eyes.
The drive back to the apartment passed in silence.
The moment they entered, Harper didn't even remove her shoes before turning toward the guest bedroom.
"Stop." Brandon's cold command cut through the air.
Harper paused, turning with visible impatience.
Brandon crossed to her, pulled out his phone, opened the photo, and thrust the screen in her face.
There she was with Robert and Steven, the image unbearably vivid.
"What the hell is this?" Brandon's voice scraped out from between clenched teeth, saturated with barely contained jealousy and fury. "Harper, you claim you want to divorce me and focus on your career—and meanwhile you're playing happy family with another man behind my back?"
He moved closer, his imposing frame casting her in shadow, his eyes wild with possessive obsession.
"You're so desperate to be rid of me because you've already fallen for Robert, haven't you?"
Harper's gaze dropped to the photo. Seeing the image clearly, the sheer absurdity of it all reached a crescendo.
She finally understood the source of Brandon's inexplicable "devotion" and rage tonight.
"Happy family?" Harper laughed bitterly, her cool eyes filled with undisguised scorn. "Brandon, you're not just selfish—you're pathetic. You think everyone operates like you do, their minds full of sordid calculations?"
She met his bloodshot gaze without retreat, each word a blade: "Robert's nephew was hospitalized. I visited as a friend and we grabbed dinner. In your twisted mind, that equals me lining up my next conquest? What—do you think I'm only allowed to be miserable and destitute after leaving you? That the only acceptable outcome is me groveling in gratitude for your scraps?"