Chapter 901

The morning light found Susan motionless on the bed, her body aching from a night where Manuel had completely shed his "gentleman" facade. As she watched him dress, she saw the undeniable proof of their "orgy"—the scratches on his back and the love bites she had left in her own moments of frenzy. She tried to hide her shyness under the blanket, glaring at him as he spoke in a voice that was uncharacteristically soft and considerate.

"You must be exhausted, get some more sleep," Manuel murmured, caressing her face.

Susan huffed, her throat too sore to even argue. He was playing the "innocent gentleman" now, but she knew the truth. He even offered her a paid day off with a meaningful smile that made her want to sink into the mattress.

"I'm going to the Capital with my mom for Una’s birth party," Manuel explained, accounting for his day. "I'll try to be back early this evening. Be good at home."

As Manuel left, Justine waited in the lobby, her patience wearing thin. She had walked in on the "mess" in the kitchen the night before and was still trying to reconcile the image of her composed son taking such aggressive initiative with Susan. As they headed to the Capital, the conversation turned to Salem Wells—another victim of a "crappy hand" dealt by fate—and the impending celebration for Una.

Upon arrival, the banquet hall was a fortress of media and high-society elites. They made their way to the baby room, a soundproof sanctuary where Oscar was personally putting his daughter, Una, to bed. The room was full of nannies and family, but Oscar’s focus was singular.

Lillian, beaming with pride, greeted Justine warmly. She made sure everyone heard how Una "only sticks to Oscar" and how he spent every spare moment caring for her. It was a performance of domestic bliss designed to stake her claim.