Chapter 232 You Think She'd Pick Him Over Me?
Amelia's outfit that evening was deceptively understated.
She wore a thick white linen shirt, the cuffs embroidered with delicate rose patterns. The collar was left slightly open, revealing the subtle curve of her collarbone and the glint of a small pendant resting against her skin.
The tailored waist drew attention to her slim figure, and the pale blue skinny jeans made her legs look long and well-proportioned. On her feet, high-top lace-up canvas sneakers added a casual touch.
At first glance, she could have passed for an ordinary high school student.
But paired with her refined features, even the most unassuming clothes carried an understated beauty. She did not need to speak—passersby, catching even a glimpse, found it difficult to look away.
When Amelia reached the small square table, the blue-eyed foreign man sitting there was in the middle of taking a sip of water.
She took the seat opposite him without hesitation. He froze, caught off guard by the sudden presence of such a striking young woman.
The water went down the wrong way. He coughed violently, setting the glass down while clutching his chest, his face flushing crimson.
Amelia assumed she had startled Jasper.
She stood quickly, stepping to his side and patting his back to help him breathe. "Sorry, Jasper... I did not mean to scare you."
When his coughing eased, she pulled two napkins from the holder and offered them, her tone was apologetic. "I'm really sorry for coming here without your knowledgeso . Are you alright?"
"I... I'm fine," he managed to say at last, though the redness lingered on his face. His eyes locked on her, and then came the words that made her stomach drop. "I'm sorry... do we know each other?"
It hit her instantly—she had mistaken him for someone else.
Jasper's voice was meant to be deep and smooth, but it did not match the man in front of her at all.
She drew in a breath and stepped back. "My apologies, sir. I mistook you for someone else."
She was turning to leave when the man caught her wrist. "Wait... even if you've mistaken me for someone, maybe it's fate. We could be friends..."
Amelia's brows furrowed.
She was about to pull free when a woman came from behind, shoving her hard.
Since Lon had appeared, Amelia had kept her own spiritual senses suppressed. Two months of quiet recovery at home had dulled her vigilance. She had not been actively scanning her surroundings.
So when the woman charged at her, she was completely unprepared.
The push was strong enough to send her stumbling toward the edge of the table. She caught herself at the last second, palm pressed against the table.
The water glass toppled and shattered on the floor, the sharp sound drawing attention from nearby diners.
The woman's voice was loud, accusing as she pushed. "Is this what girls are like now? You know he has a fiancee and you still come to flirt? Never seen a handsome man before? Throwing yourself at him?"
Amelia looked up and took in her face.
The woman appeared to be in her late twenties, with bold red lips and flawless makeup. Despite the winter chill, her legs were bare beneath a tight dress, topped with a white fur coat.
For a heartbeat, she seemed surprised by Amelia's appearance—then her eyes hardened.
"Well, well... you look like a student, don't you?
"I step away to fix my makeup and you're already here, touching my fiance".
"You think a pretty face means you can cling to a man with money? Hoping to climb your way into his life?"
Amelia straightened.
She guessed the woman was indeed the man's fiancee, and that she had seen Amelia patting his back, misreading the gesture as something intimate.
The insults cut deep and the shove had been unnecessary, but Amelia had, in fact, mistaken the man for someone else.
If the woman was angry because she believed someone was trying to seduce her fiance, Amelia could understand.
"Ma'am, I think you've misunderstood," Amelia said evenly. "I wasn't flirting with your fiance. I sat down because I thought he was someone I knew."
"Mistaken identity?" The woman's tone sharpened, disbelief dripping from every word. "Out of everyone in this restaurant, you just happen to mistake my fiance? Who would believe that?"
"I know plenty of young women dream of marrying a man who's handsome and wealthy, but maybe take a look at yourself first. And if you say you mistook him, then why were you touching him?"
"I wasn't pulling at him."
The man who had just been trying to make small talk with Amelia stayed silent now, and her dislike for him deepened.
"He was startled when I appeared, choked on his water. I thought he was my friend, so I helped him catch his breath."
"As for the 'pulling' you mentioned—when I was about to leave, he grabbed my wrist. That's when you arrived."
She was telling the truth.
The woman, however, laughed like she'd just heard a bad joke. "Shamelessness knows no bounds... thick skin can excuse anything."
"You expect me to believe my fiance grabbed you? Mistaken a friend? Where is this friend? Show me."
"I think you just saw his looks and his money and decided to make a move."
The crowd that had gathered began to murmur. The wealthy part might be true, but handsome? Not exactly. He was overweight, balding, and lacking any real charm.
Her sense of superiority was palpable, as if convinced every woman in the room secretly wanted her fiance.
From the moment the confrontation began, people had started drifting closer.
Hearing Amelia's explanation and seeing her for themselves, many sided with her. A girl this beautiful, if she wanted to chase a man, could aim far higher than the one before them.
Deciding the argument was a waste of time, Amelia kept her tone calm. "Everything I've said is true." She pointed toward a camera mounted nearby. "There's surveillance here. It will show exactly what happened and what was said, word for word. If you don't believe me, check it."
She turned to leave. It was already past seven-thirty, and Jasper was waiting.
The woman grew more agitated, reaching for her. "Wait! You're not going anywhere—"
Her hand had not yet touched Amelia's shirt.
A shadow fell over them, and a man's arm came around Amelia's shoulders, drawing her out of reach.
His voice was low and lazy, laced with disdain. "You really think too highly of yourself... Have you even looked at your fiance? Do you honestly believe my girl would be interested in him?"
He let out a soft laugh, the kind that carried casual contempt. "Why don't you open your eyes and take a good look at me? Then you'll understand what wealthy, handsome, and truly desirable actually means."