Chapter 197

Not just Isabella and Victoria, even Alexander's friend and Seraphina's obsessive fan, Genevieve, didn't see it coming.

The jewels Arabella was wearing were actually designed by Seraphina! And it was the legendary 'Everose' collection—something Genevieve had only heard rumors about but never laid eyes on!

Envy burned through her like wildfire.

Arabella remained composed, her grateful gaze meeting Alexander's.

She knew words weren't necessary. This was Alexander's domain, and he would handle those with hidden agendas.

Sebastian's piercing stare never left Arabella, his eyes darkening with an unreadable emotion.

He was certain Arabella knew this man—and their connection ran deep.

"Who is that man?" Sebastian demanded, his voice icy.

"Alexander Kingsley, CEO of L'Amour Éternel. His grandfather was the last Duke of Aetheria, and his grandmother founded the brand. In short, the entire empire belongs to his family," Gordon explained.

He added, "Alexander has already inherited the title. He owns estates granted by the royal family and ranks among the top five wealthiest in Aetheria. It's astonishing that Mrs. Lockwood is acquainted with someone of his stature!"

Sebastian's jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist.

"Did Alexander just publicly defend Mrs. Lockwood? Does he have feelings for her?"

Gordon's eyes sparkled with gossip. "If he does, she could become a duchess! She's already a tycoon's daughter—now tied to royalty? Mrs. Lockwood is unstoppable!"

"Impossible. He's old enough to be her father. She wouldn’t be interested," Sebastian snapped, his tone final.

Gordon smirked. "I disagree. Mrs. Lockwood might prefer mature men. After all, she chose you, and you're six years older."

Sebastian's glare could have frozen hell over.

There was a difference between six years and two decades.

Gordon gulped, sealing his lips with an exaggerated zipper motion.

The teasing words stabbed at Sebastian like daggers.

He no longer cared about her past deceptions.

Now, he only wondered—why were there so many extraordinary men orbiting her? He felt like he was being left behind.

"Unbelievable! The CEO of a top-tier luxury brand openly admits his designs were inspired by Seraphina? Isn't that embarrassing?"

"Not at all. I respect his honesty. He didn’t claim it was original—just that Seraphina’s work sparked his creativity."

"We did take inspiration," Alexander admitted without hesitation. "Seraphina is aware. The 'Preserved Flower' collection was created with her authorization and input."

The crowd buzzed with shock.

Isabella’s triumphant smirk froze.

"Which is why I’m delighted Ms. Arabella chose to wear Seraphina’s jewelry tonight," Alexander said, his gaze briefly flickering to Arabella before shifting away. "There’s something else Ms. Isabella might not know."

Arabella finally spoke, her voice smooth and amused. "L'Amour Éternel and Seraphina have collaborated for years. There’s an unspoken rule among our VIP clients—anyone wearing Seraphina’s pieces has automatic access to all our events, with front-row seating. Plus, lifetime complimentary maintenance."

She tilted her head. "Ms. Isabella, as a devoted fan, how could you not know this?"

Isabella paled, her lips parting soundlessly.

She owned a few pieces, but membership required annual spending thresholds and financial vetting. She’d never qualified.

Of course she hadn’t known.

Victoria discreetly stepped back, distancing herself from the humiliation.

The reporters’ expressions shifted, their scrutiny turning sharp.

"So Ms. Isabella was just making a scene? How pathetic!"

"Why meddle in others’ affairs when she can’t even manage her own?"

"She thought she had the right to judge just because she bought a few trinkets? She’s not fit to lick Mrs. Lockwood’s boots!"

Boots?

They dared say she wasn’t worthy of Arabella’s boots?

Isabella’s vision blurred with rage.

This was the first time she’d been so thoroughly humiliated.

Arabella didn’t spare her another glance. With Alexander and Genevieve, she strode away, the press flocking behind them.

Left alone, Isabella stood trembling, her face ghostly pale.

"Isabella, we’re in trouble!" Victoria hissed, grabbing her arm. "Sebastian is here!"

"Where?" Panic spiked through her.

"Right behind us. He’s been watching. I don’t know how long he’s been there—or what he saw."

Isabella’s blood ran cold. She turned stiffly.

In the shadows, Sebastian stood like a blade unsheathed—cold, unyielding, his gaze slicing through her.

For a heartbeat, she couldn’t breathe.

"Sebastian."

He didn’t speak. Just shook his head, turned, and walked away.

Isabella stumbled back, her legs weak.

That look—it felt like he’d severed everything between them.

In the restroom.

"That bitch! Why won’t she just die?!" Isabella sobbed, her makeup streaking down her face.

She wasn’t just crying over Arabella’s humiliation of her.

Sebastian had seen everything. There was no explaining this away.

"Exactly! It’s unfair. She doesn’t deserve any of this!" Victoria chimed in, a sly smirk playing on her lips.

"You just stood there! Why didn’t you help me?" Isabella snapped.

"I couldn’t get a word in! You know I’m not good with comebacks. If I had a way to ruin Arabella, I’d have done it already!"

Isabella wiped her tears bitterly. "Any updates from Charlotte? Has she found a weakness yet? She’s useless!"

"Patience. That woman hates Arabella more than we do. She’ll deliver."

As if on cue, Victoria’s phone buzzed.

She grinned, waving it. "Speak of the devil—Charlotte’s calling!"

Isabella’s eyes burned with venom. "This time, I’ll make Arabella choke on her own success. Let’s see how she survives this."