Once Lance had Celestine’s agreement, the tension in his brow melted away.
Good. At least she knew when to fall in line.
If she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have hesitated to get more forceful.
He turned to Joanna, who was sitting on the bed, her cheeks streaked with tears. His voice softened with concern. “Joanna, don’t worry. I’ll make sure she shows up tonight.”
“Thank you, Lance…” Joanna sobbed, throwing herself into his arms. “I’m so scared. I just don’t understand why Celly is so determined to ruin me. I only wanted to move up in this world–was that really so wrong?”
Looking down at the woman clinging to him, Lance saw a reflection of his former self.
Emotion flickered in his eyes..
“You’re not wrong.”
Ambition was never a sin–not compared to those useless layabouts content to rot at home. Ambition was a gift.
And plastic surgery? Please. Compared to theft and violence, it was nothing.
His Joanna had never done anything wrong.
The ones at fault were the schemers lurking in the shadows, the ones who stabbed others in the back.
He’d never let those people win.
“Don’t worry. Tonight, I’ll bring her to the party. I promise.”
“Thank you, Lance. I’ll talk to her myself.” For a second, Joanna’s tear–filled eyes gleamed with something sharper.
This time, she wouldn’t let Celestine slip away so easily.
If she remembered right, tomorrow was the day Celestine and Chester were supposed to sign their divorce papers.
Well then. Before it was official, she’d make sure Celestine received a proper
send–off.
10:21
Chapter 270
Celestine agreed to Lance’s invitation to the charity auction.
Not because she was interested in the spectacle, but because she’d spotted something in the auction catalog–a handcrafted fountain pen by an old artist, one her grandfather had cherished.
He’d given her that pen back in college, but it had vanished from her studio not long
after.
Curiosity about Lance’s latest scheme played a part, but it was the pen that sealed her decision..
She stared at the picture of it on her screen, lost in thought for a long time.
By evening, Lance called to say his car was waiting at the entrance to her building. Celestine made sure Cynthia was settled in, then changed into her evening dress. Cynthia hugged her, reluctant to let go. “Miss Angel, when will you be back?”
Celestine smoothed the girl’s hair. “Probably later tonight. If I’m not home by dinner, be a good girl–eat, shower, and go to bed on your own, alright?”
Cynthia nodded solemnly. “Come back soon, okay? I get scared by myself.”
Her tone was pure mischief.
“Alright, I promise I’ll hurry back.” Celestine smiled, warmth in her eyes.
Cynthia insisted on snapping a selfie with her before she finally let her leave.
As soon as Celestine was gone, Cynthia fired off the photo to Gideon Prescott.
[Cynthia]: Uncle! Emergency! Auntie in danger!
[The Dark Lord]: ?
The reply came back instantly.
Satisfied, Cynthia grinned.
Aunt Celestine looked stunning tonight–there was no way Uncle Gideon would ignore that!
And if he replied so quickly, he was probably already back in the country.
She could hardly wait for their reunion!
–
10:21
At the airport, Gideon stepped off the plane, still travel–worn.
He received Cynthia’s message: a photo of Celestine in a pale lavender gown, her smile gentle and captivating.
His eyes darkened.
“Check which venues are hosting major auctions in the city tonight. We’re heading
there.”
Vernon hesitated, reminding him gently, “Mr. Prescott, we have a seven o’clock meeting with Nexara Technologies to discuss the contract.”
Gideon’s response was cool and effortless. “Reschedule.”
Vernon understood immediately.
Why did he even bother asking? It was obviously about Miss Selwyn again.
But this time, the young master had returned home in a rare foul mood after visiting his mother. Even old Clifton Prescott had been left fuming.
It looked like the rift between mother and son was beyond repair.
Poor guy. Maybe, just maybe, he deserved to taste a little happiness while he still could.
10.21
