Chapter 107

Chapter 107

Isabella froze instantly, her emerald eyes widening into saucers as she looked from Emily to John, her face full of bewilderment.

She scratched her head, asking in confusion, "Nephew?"

Emily burst out laughing at her expression and waved her hand in explanation. "His father is my older brother. He's my brother's son, so I'm his aunt, which makes him my nephew!"

After hearing this, Isabella's expression grew even more shocked. She looked at Emily with eyes full of admiration. "Oh my God! Emily, you look way too young!"

"I thought you and Beatrice were the same age. I had no idea you already had such a grown nephew! You're amazing at taking care of yourself! How do you do it? You have to teach me!"

These words struck right at Emily's heart. She instantly lifted her chin proudly, grinning from ear to ear, waving her hand in mock modesty. "Oh, not really. I just pay attention to skincare. It's nothing worth mentioning, really!"

Watching Emily's smug expression, Beatrice helplessly pressed her hand to her forehead and exposed the truth. "Alright, Emily, stop pretending. You're the same age as us, so quit taking advantage of her."

"Beatrice!" Emily instantly bristled, glaring at her and lightly pinching her arm, huffing indignantly. "What's wrong with you? Why are you exposing me?"

"I was trying to play the elder for a bit and make an impression on our new friend! You're not giving me any face at all!"

Only then did Isabella catch on. She couldn't help covering her mouth and laughing, her emerald eyes curving into crescents as she watched the two bicker. Her eyes filled with envy. "You two have such a great relationship! I'm so jealous!"

Watching them laugh together, John couldn't help but curve his lips slightly. He handed them bottles of water, his gaze settling on Beatrice, his tone gentle. "How are you feeling? Still nervous?"

"Thank you." Beatrice accepted the water and smiled at him.

Watching their interaction, Isabella's eyes darted around. She leaned close to Beatrice and asked in a hushed whisper, "Beatrice, is he your boyfriend? You two look so perfect together! A match made in heaven!"

At her words, Beatrice's cheeks warmed slightly. She quickly shook her head. "No, he's just a good friend."

"Just a good friend..." Isabella rubbed her chin, her gaze toward John turning somewhat strange.

She leaned close to Beatrice's ear and whispered, "Oh my God! He's so handsome and looks so gentle. You two seem so compatible!"

"Is something wrong with him?"

Beatrice's face showed some awkwardness.

She didn't know how to explain it to Isabella.

Fortunately, Isabella wasn't the pushy type. Seeing Beatrice had no interest, she dropped the topic.

Meanwhile.

In the VIP viewing room on the top floor of the venue.

Liam carefully pushed open the door and walked in, standing to the side with a bow, reporting in a low voice, "Mr. Stuart, I have something to report."

Damien withdrew his gaze, looked up at him, and spoke coolly. "Go ahead."

"It's like this," Liam swallowed, speaking cautiously. "After Miss Isabella submitted her work, she's been with Ms. Sinclair the whole time."

"They seemed to be chatting very happily, and now she's followed Ms. Sinclair over to sit with Mr. Williams and his group."

At these words, Damien's fingers holding his cigarette paused slightly. His brow instantly furrowed, and a flash of obvious impatience crossed his smoke-blue eyes.

Thinking of Isabella's loud, reckless personality and how she'd say absolutely anything made his head ache.

Isabella's father and his father were old family friends. They'd grown up together.

This girl had been fearless since childhood, with a mouth that had no filter. She'd say anything, especially when it came to gossiping about his private affairs.

If she started spouting nonsense in front of Beatrice, God knows what chaos would ensue.

He fell silent for a few seconds, then looked up at Liam, his tone carrying an unyielding coldness. "Go deliver a message to her."

Liam immediately bowed. "Your orders, Mr. Stuart."

"Tell Isabella to watch her mouth. Don't say a single word she shouldn't." Damien's voice grew even colder.

"If she dares to talk nonsense in front of Beatrice, I'll have her dragged back right now and delivered to her father for proper discipline."

Liam's heart clenched. He quickly responded, "Yes, Mr. Stuart! I'll go right now! I guarantee I'll deliver the message and absolutely won't let Miss Isabella speak out of turn!"

He silently grumbled to himself—indeed, in all of Luminous City, Isabella was the only person who could give Damien such a headache.

But it made sense. Isabella's mouth really would say anything. If she actually said something inappropriate in front of Beatrice and caused trouble, he'd catch hell for it too.

With this thought, Liam didn't dare delay any longer. He turned and quickly exited the viewing room, heading toward the audience section downstairs.

The viewing room fell silent once more. Damien turned his head back, his gaze once again settling on Beatrice below.

She was surrounded by Isabella and Emily, smiling with her eyes curved into crescents.

Watching her smile, the coldness in his eyes gradually dissipated, replaced by a tenderness even he didn't notice.

In his twenty-eight years, he'd never felt this way about any woman. He knew full well she had a fiancé, knew full well they belonged to different worlds, yet his gaze still couldn't help but chase after her.

His fingertips lightly rubbed together as he recalled that day at the estate—she'd been bound to the pillar, covered in injuries yet still defiant, refusing to bow her head.

This white rose who appeared delicate but possessed such resilience in her bones had already, without him realizing it, taken root in his heart.

Down in the audience section, Isabella was eagerly pulling at Beatrice, talking excitedly about taking her to Luminous City's night market that evening to try the local street food. Emily's eyes lit up as she listened, enthusiastically agreeing.

Beatrice, unable to refuse them both, could only nod with a smile.

Just then, a man in a black suit strode over quickly, bowed as he stopped in front of Isabella, and said something in a low voice.

The smile on Isabella's face instantly froze and fell. She waved the man away with an impatient gesture and replied curtly.

After the man bowed and withdrew, Isabella turned back to Beatrice and stuck out her tongue, making a face. "It's over, Beatrice. That bastard sent someone to warn me not to talk out of turn, or he'll send me home."

At her words, Beatrice's heart skipped a beat. She instinctively asked, "Damien?"

"Who else could it be!" Isabella puffed out her cheeks indignantly. "What a petty jerk! It's not like I was going to badmouth him! But speaking of which..."

She changed the subject, leaning close to Beatrice, her emerald eyes full of curiosity. "Beatrice, you know him, don't you? When I mentioned him earlier, your reaction was off! Come on, confess—how do you two know each other?"