Chapter 212

Chapter 212

Harper paused. "Now, I have my work, my studio, I have you, I have Alaric. What do I have to be afraid of?"

Bianca looked at her and suddenly teared up . "Harper..."

Harper smiled and patted her hand. "Don't worry. I won't lose this battle."

On the evening of the third day, word came from the private investigator.

"Found it," he said. "That Nadia isn't an independent designer at all. There's a management company behind her, and that company has a partnership with Elowen's studio."

Harper's eyes lit up. "Evidence?"

"Got it. Contracts, transfer records, email correspondence—everything."

Harper's fingers tightened slightly around her phone.

Downstairs, Alaric's car pulled up. Hearing the engine, Bianca smiled rather suggestively. "Why is Mr. Stuart here again? It's only been a few hours!"

Harper blushed at her words and reached out to swat at her, but Bianca had already slipped away. Before leaving, she turned back with a laugh. "I'm clocking out now—won't be staying to work overtime with you!"

When Alaric walked in, he saw Harper's flushed face. Their eyes met, and his face reddened too.

Neither said anything. Alaric brought over his work documents and sat down to work alongside her.

Harper turned her head back to her sketch paper.

On the other side, Elowen, watching the online malice toward Harper, felt the opportunity had arrived.

She messaged him again. [Alaric, my mom says she hasn't seen you in ages and wants to invite you over for dinner. You know she's always thought of you as a son.]

Alaric looked at the message, his brow slightly furrowing.

He glanced at Harper sitting across from him.

Harper was bent over her sketch, adding the final touches. Sensing his gaze, she looked up. "What's wrong?"

"Elowen invited me to dinner," Alaric said. "Says her mother wants to see me."

Harper's pen tip paused.

Then she smiled, a hint of amusement in that smile. "Go ahead."

Alaric was taken aback. "I can go?"

Honestly, he didn't want to go, but he couldn't hide it from Harper either, so he'd told her about the text.

Harper set down her pen and leaned back in her chair, a glint of cunning in her eyes.

"She's asking you out at this moment precisely because she wants to see me helpless and isolated, right?" she said. "You go. Help me put on a little show."

Alaric looked at her and suddenly understood. "You want me to bait her?"

Harper nodded. "She thinks I'm finished now and is feeling very smug. At this moment, if you're a little nice to her, what will she do?"

Alaric frowned. "She'll think I'm interested in her."

"And then?"

Alaric was silent for a moment, a trace of coldness gradually rising in his eyes. "Then she'll become even more unrestrained."

Harper smiled.

"Exactly," she said. "What she wants has never been just to beat me. She wants you too."

Alaric looked at her, his gaze filled with heartache and a touch of grievance. "Harper, are you sure about this? Letting her misunderstand me..."

He was already annoyed just seeing Elowen.

"Alaric." Harper interrupted him, stood up, and walked over to him, reaching out to smooth his furrowed brow.

"I trust you," she said. "You go. I'll wait here for you to come back."

Alaric looked into those clear eyes, warmth surging in his heart.

He grasped her hand and kissed it gently.

"Alright," he said. "I'll go."

The place Elowen chose was the city's finest private club.

She'd specifically reserved the presidential suite on the top floor. She called it a family dinner, but she was the only one there.

When Alaric arrived, Elowen was already waiting.

She wore a wine-red silk slip dress that hugged her shapely figure. The thin straps barely hung on her shoulders, exposing the lustrous skin of her neck and shoulders.

Her makeup was flawlessly exquisite, her lips painted with matte lipstick in just the right shade of alluring.

Seeing Alaric, her eyes brightened. She walked toward him in delicate silver heels with light steps. "Alaric, you came."

Alaric nodded coolly, his gaze sweeping the room. "Wasn't this supposed to be dinner? Where's the private dining room?"

As he asked, he took in the room's décor.

Candlelight, red wine, roses.

Everything reeked of intimacy.

"Where's your mother?" he asked again.

Elowen smiled and stepped forward, her fingertips curling slightly as she tentatively reached out to take his arm. "Mom had something come up at the last minute and couldn't make it. But it's fine—just the two of us. Perfect for catching up."

Alaric subtly avoided her hand and walked over to sit on the sofa, his posture upright and distant, emanating an aura that warned others to keep away.

"Catching up is fine," he said. "No need to be so elaborate."

Elowen's smile froze for an instant, embarrassment flashing through her eyes before she recovered.

She turned to pour two glasses of red wine and brought them over.

"We haven't seen each other in so many years. I have a lot to say to you." She handed him a glass, her voice soft as melting water. "Come on, have a drink first."

Alaric took the glass but didn't drink.

He looked at the liquid in the glass and suddenly asked, "Elowen, what exactly do you want from me?"

Elowen was startled, then laughed, her smile carrying deliberate coquettishness.

She sat down beside him, her knee almost touching his pant leg, the distance somewhat excessive. Her hair inadvertently brushed against his forearm.

"Alaric," she said gently, her breath carrying the sweet fragrance of wine-tinged intoxication, "do you know why I came back?"

Alaric didn't answer, his jawline taut in a cold, hard line.

Elowen continued, "Because of you. All these years abroad, my heart has always held you. I knew you never married, and I knew you must be waiting for me."

As she spoke, her slender fingers, carrying a slight coolness, landed on Alaric's arm. "Alaric, let's not miss each other again, okay?"

Alaric looked down at her hand on his arm, coldness flashing in his eyes. "Let go."

Elowen was startled by the iciness in those words and immediately released her hand, her eyes already full of grievance.

He set down his glass and stood up.

"Elowen," he said, "you're reading too much into this."

Elowen froze, looking up at him. "You... what do you mean?"

Alaric turned to face her, enunciating each word. "I wasn't waiting for you. The person I've been waiting for was never you."

Elowen's face instantly turned pale.

"Then why did you come?" She stood up, her voice trembling. "If you don't like me, why did you accept the invitation?"

Alaric's gaze fell on the red wine on the table.

"You said your mother wanted to see me," he said. "I respect my elders, so naturally I came."