The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 164

Chapter 164:

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A flicker of unease surfaced, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, seeking refuge in a safer topic.

“Why did you show up at the Ashtons’ so suddenly?”

She didn’t voice the question lingering at the edge of her thoughts. Had he seen her fierce and unyielding side?

“I told you—whatever you want to do, just do it. I’ll stand by you, no matter what.” His voice was deep and steady, carrying a note of resolute confidence that left little room for argument. It was both a promise and a declaration, laced with indulgence and quiet command.

The message was clear—no matter what happened at the Ashtons’ today, he would support her without hesitation.

Corrine studied him for a long moment, then let out a soft, amused chuckle.

“What if one day I commit a crime? Would you think I’m not gentle, that I’m cold and heartless?”

“You don’t need to be gentle,” Nate replied without missing a beat. His gaze locked onto hers, steady and unwavering.

“I’ll protect you from any storm.” His dark eyes glowed with an almost reckless tenderness, the kind that could melt even the hardest of hearts.

Corrine’s lashes fluttered, and for a fleeting moment, her resolve wavered.

“No need to be gentle…”

The thought echoed in her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder if her quick surrender to Nate’s pursuit had been born of impulsive recklessness or the sheer pull of his magnetic charm.

Hearing his response now, she felt vindicated—perhaps her change of heart hadn’t been so unreasonable after all. Nate always seemed to find a way to touch the most vulnerable corners of her heart without even trying.

Just then, the shrill buzz of her phone interrupted the chaos in her mind. She blinked, regaining focus, and answered the call.

Donnelly’s voice burst through the line, laced with anger.

“You just left me behind like that? What were you thinking?”

gⲁ𝗅𝓝𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀.𝗰0𝗺; 𝓤𝓹𝗅𝗼𝗮𝓭 𝗦𝓞𝓤𝗍𝗍

“You weren’t on my way, were you?” Corrine replied coolly, her gaze flicking briefly toward Nate, who remained fixated on the road ahead.

On the other end, Donnelly took a sharp breath, clearly restraining himself.

“Do you know who made that gem?”

His tone turned sharp, his words pointed. Whoever had crafted the counterfeit had left their mark—each detail, each trace of time, held a signature of sorts, like the unintentional habits of an artist.

Corrine’s eyes darkened as she lowered her gaze, masking the frost that settled there.

“You’ve already figured it out, haven’t you?”

“I have,” Donnelly admitted before abruptly ending the call.

Nate glanced at her, curiosity dancing in his expression.

“Are you into antiques?”

Corrine tucked the phone away and replied, “My grandfather was. I picked up a thing or two from him when I was younger.”

A flicker of amusement lit Nate’s eyes as he smiled.

“I’ve got a few pieces in my collection. I’ll have to show you sometime.”

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