The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 599

Chapter 599:

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“Where do you live, Miss Holland? What do your parents do?”

Before Corrine could respond, Nate interjected, lifting his gaze to meet Andromache’s, his dark eyes cold and unreadable.

“Aunt Andromache, it’s getting late,” he said, his tone clipped.

“You should be going.”

There was an icy edge to his voice, a chill that settled in the room like a sudden storm.

Andromache’s smile faltered, a slight crack in her composed demeanor. She hadn’t expected Nate to dismiss her so directly, so decisively.

Leaning forward, she flicked the ash from her cigarette into the ashtray and gave Nate a sidelong glance, her smile returning, though it now carried a tinge of mischief.

“I was merely making small talk. Why so serious? And if I really wanted to do something to her, do you think you could stop me?”

Nate’s expression darkened, and his lips twitched as if he were about to speak. But before he could, Corrine’s voice rang out, calm and steady.

“Then bring it on!”

The words had been spoken, and silence descended over the large office like a thick, suffocating veil. Smoke curled lazily in the air, partially veiling Andromache’s upturned red lips—tempting yet treacherous, like a rose laced with thorns. A beat passed before her soft voice slipped through the quiet.

“Miss Holland, you have truly surprised me. I might just be starting to admire you.”

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It carried the illusion of a compliment, but beneath the surface was a sharp edge—a challenge hidden in velvet.

Corrine set her cup down with deliberate ease, meeting Andromache’s gaze without a trace of hesitation.

“I hope I will not disappoint you.”

Amusement flickered across Andromache’s face as she crushed the cigarette between her fingers and flicked it into the ashtray. She reached for her bag and stood, her gaze trailing over Corrine with a mixture of curiosity, condescension, and careful scrutiny.

“It’s getting late. I should go before Evelyn starts worrying,” she murmured, turning toward the door.

She had barely taken three steps when Nate’s voice cut through the air, cold and devoid of warmth.

“Matias, see her out.”

Andromache’s stride faltered for the briefest second. She turned back, her smile fading into something cool and dismissive. A quiet scoff escaped her lips before she turned on her heel and walked out without another word.

Inside the car, Andromache tossed her bag onto the seat with a derisive snort.

“Fool.”

Corrine was walking straight into a storm, yet she still dared to put on airs. How laughable.

The rumors about Nate keeping a woman had already reached the Independent Continent, stirring whispers in the Elder Council. They had started sending people to investigate, but Nate was not a man who tolerated prying eyes. Those who had tried to dig into his private affairs had vanished without a trace.

Andromache had gathered some details about Corrine from Christos, which was why she had insisted on meeting her in person. Yet throughout their conversation, Nate had refused to let anything slip about Corrine.

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