Chapter 144 She Really Finds Her Disgusting

Chapter 144 She Really Finds Her Disgusting

Finn Heuston, the youngest son of the Heuston Group, had returned home.

The Heuston family threw a party at the hotel, inviting everyone who was anyone in their elite circle.

Rumors of a marriage alliance between the Heuston family and the Hopper family had been circulating for some time. With today's lavish affair, everyone guessed there must be good news to announce.

Elena stood before her vanity mirror in a gorgeous outfit, examining herself from every angle. The more she looked, the more the simple teal strapless gown seemed too understated.

"Hand me the red one," she said, gesturing to Talia.

Talia brought over the red dress.

Seeing Elena in such good spirits—knowing Preston had agreed to bring her to the party today—Talia seized the opportunity. "Ciaran Davis has been behaving lately, and he's been keeping up with his lessons. Why don't you bring him to the party tonight?"

The moment the words left her mouth, she felt a chill. Looking up, she met a pair of displeased eyes in the mirror.

Elena tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her tone languid. "You've been with the Davis family for five years now. Still don't know your place? Is it your business to stick your nose into the family's affairs?"

Talia lowered her head, mumbling, "I just thought Mr. Davis would be there too. If you bring Ciaran along, father and son could spend some quality time together."

Elena's eyes flickered, a trace of irritation crossing her perfectly made-up face.

It wasn't that she didn't want to—she simply didn't have the authority.

She didn't even have a legitimate position in the Davis family herself. What right did she have to make decisions about Preston's affairs?

"Mommy." A timid voice came from the doorway. A small head peeked in, those eyes—so reminiscent of Sophie's—filled with a cautiousness far beyond his years.

The moment Elena saw him, her brow furrowed involuntarily.

Always so meek and cowering. Not a shred of the commanding presence a Davis family heir should have. No wonder Preston didn't like him.

She didn't like him either.

And she especially hated the name Preston had given him.

Ciaran. Sophie. It made her sick.

Meeting Elena's icy stare, Ciaran instinctively shrank back.

Elena tossed the dress onto the bed and turned to face him. "What do you want?"

Seeing Ciaran's trembling figure, Talia tried to intervene. "The child's just trying to talk to you. Why so harsh? You'll scare him."

Elena let out a cold laugh.

A child who couldn't win Preston's favor had no value to her whatsoever.

Ciaran seemed to sense his mother's impatience. He twisted his fingers in his sleeve. "Dad said I should come to the party tonight."

The moment those words left his mouth, Elena's irritation vanished. Her eyes lit up as she looked at him. "Really? Your father said you could go?"

Sensing the shift in Elena's mood, Ciaran breathed a small sigh of relief and nodded.

He feared his mother's mood swings most of all, but he also knew exactly what news would make her happy.

Everyone knew Preston had a son, but no one had ever seen him.

Preston never took Ciaran anywhere.

Elena always suspected he had other plans brewing, which left her anxious and helpless. She could only take out her frustration on Ciaran.

Hearing that Preston was finally willing to let him appear in public, she was overjoyed. She immediately shot Talia a look. "Hurry up and take the young master to get changed. His father will be home any minute."

Talia nodded and took Ciaran's hand, leading him out.

Elena changed into the bold, eye-catching red dress and went to Ciaran's room with a smile.

Seeing him properly dressed for once, actually looking like a young master, she reached out and ruffled his hair. "Let's go. Downstairs."

Ciaran carefully took Elena's hand, a smile unconsciously forming on his timid face.

Mommy was finally being nice to him.

As long as he could make Dad happy, Mommy would be happy too.

They'd just reached the bottom of the stairs when sounds came from the entryway.

Elena hurried over to open the door, all eager hospitality.

The moment Preston walked in and saw her in that red dress, his brow furrowed. His tone was disdainful. "Why are you dressed so flashy? You're not the star of the show tonight."

The smile on Elena's face froze. She tugged at her dress. "I... I just thought it looked nice. That it would make you look good."

Preston scoffed, impatiently loosening his tie. "I'd be grateful if you just didn't cause trouble."

Without sparing a glance at Elena's sour expression, he strode into the living room.

Ciaran stood up nervously from the sofa, mustering his courage to call out, "Dad."

Preston's hand paused on his tie. Looking at Ciaran's anxious face, his gaze unconsciously settled on those eyes—so much like Sophie's.

This child didn't resemble him. Didn't resemble Elena either. But those eyes—they were the spitting image of Sophie.

And as he grew older, the resemblance only became more striking. Though that timid demeanor still clung to him.

Preston pressed his lips together and beckoned him over. "Come here."

Ciaran hesitantly walked to Preston's side and stood obediently.

For once, Preston showed a hint of paternal warmth. "You look really handsome today. Are you nervous about going to the party with Dad tonight?"

Ciaran pressed his lips together, instinctively glancing at Elena as she walked in from the entryway. His lips curved into a smile. "Ciaran's not nervous. I'm happy to go out with Dad."

The smile was too forced, stiff and artificial.

Whatever trace of affection had begun to stir in Preston faded again. In the end, he still wasn't like her.

Preston casually ruffled the boy's hair, straightened up, and said offhandedly, "It's getting late. Let's go."

Seeing Preston actually showing Ciaran some warmth for once, Elena eagerly walked over and scooped the child into her arms.

Ciaran's body went rigid, but he carefully breathed in Elena's scent, his lips curving slightly.

He liked the way Mommy smelled. She just never wanted to be close to him.

Watching this picture of maternal devotion, Preston said nothing and headed out first.

Elena followed in small steps with Ciaran in her arms, lowering her voice to whisper in his ear, "You'd better be on your best behavior with your father tonight, understand? Try to get him to stay home."

Ever since Ciaran was born, Preston rarely came home. She couldn't see Preston, the child couldn't see Preston—she had all this energy with nowhere to direct it.

Now that Preston was finally willing to come home and take them both to this party, it was a golden opportunity.

Ciaran nodded obediently.

When Elena spotted a familiar figure surrounded by a crowd in the banquet hall, she finally understood why Preston had brought her along tonight.

Preston made no effort to hide it, glancing at her coolly. "Go on. Have a nice heart-to-heart with Elena."

The strained smile quickly faded from Elena's face. She nodded.

At least she had some use to Preston. All that effort she'd put into winning over Ms. Clarkson hadn't been for nothing.

She gently set Ciaran down on the ground, took the child's hand, and walked warmly toward Ms. Clarkson, calling out sweetly, "Godmother."