Chapter 7

Alaric let out a quiet scoff but said nothing. Everyone in the Wrenford family knew his stance—he had no patience for women from the entertainment industry and had always been firmly against Damien's relationship with Lucy. So when Damien brought her to a family dinner, it wasn't surprising that Alaric didn't bother hiding his disapproval. Margot noticed Lucian was growing more uncomfortable by the minute, so she took him and moved to the other end of the couch. Damien stepped forward, shielding Lucy as his voice tightened with frustration. "Grandpa, Lucy would never do something like this. It's clearly Celeste—just like three years ago when she set Lucy up!" His voice was icy while his gaze was laced with a chilling intensity. But even then, Celeste's heart remained still, untouched by the chaos around her. In this entire house, perhaps Alaric was the only one who still believed in her. "Ms. Morin, even if you've always resented me, how could you involve a child—" Before she could finish, Celeste raised her hand and slapped her. The sharp sound echoed through the room. Everyone turned in shock. Celeste, who had always been soft-spoken and composed, had never lashed out like this. She was the type to swallow her grievances. This was the first time anyone had seen her like this. "I will never admit to something I didn't do. I let you accuse me once. But if you keep crossing the line, don't expect me to just stand by." Celeste's voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight. There was a storm brewing behind her calm eyes—quiet, but unmistakable. At the head of the table, Adrian raised an eyebrow as his fingers stilled mid-tap on the tabletop. A subtle smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Now this... this was interesting. "Celeste, what the hell is wrong with you?" Damien snapped, stepping in front of Lucy and pulling her protectively behind him. His glare was scorching. "It's been three years, and you've only gotten worse. Have you completely lost your mind?" The family doctor arrived just then, and Margot, still cradling Lucian, led him upstairs. Celeste ignored Damien. She wanted to check on Lucian before leaving. But as she turned to go, Damien caught her wrist. "Celeste, you're not going anywhere until we settle this." "You want to settle it?" Celeste yanked her hand free as her eyes turned menacingly cold. "Fine. I want a divorce. Is that clear enough for you?" The room fell into stunned silence. Everyone stared at her—even Damien. This was supposed to be a family dinner. No one expected her to drop the word divorce like a bomb. She knew exactly how to hit where it hurt, huh? She was still as outrageous as ever. Adrian, who had been quietly observing, finally landed his gaze on Celeste and focused on her fully. She wore a long white dress that highlighted her slender frame, making her look even more delicate. Her beautiful face was pale, like someone who hadn't eaten properly in days. But right now, anger gave her a rare and striking vitality. He hadn't expected those delicate hands to strike so decisively. But she was swift, unapologetic, and utterly composed. And undeniably captivating. Yet every time his gaze lingered on her face, a sense of familiarity stirred. He just couldn't place where he'd seen her before. "Celeste, if you're going to make a scene, at least pick the right time. If you've got something to say, say it in private. Don't bring our personal issues to a family dinner. Aren't you even a little embarrassed?" "Then tell me—what's the non-embarrassing way to handle this?" Celeste shot him a cold look. Seeing how Damien was still defending Lucy, her tone grew sharper with every word. "Is it less humiliating if I publicly admit I put mustard in Lucian's dipping sauce and take the fall for someone else? "You know what's really embarrassing? Doing something and being too much of a coward to own up to it." "Celeste, you're really pushing it—" Before Damien could finish, Adrian's low, commanding voice cut through the room. "Damien, no one has any proof right now. And if that's the case, you have no right to accuse her." All heads turned toward the head of the table. Even Celeste looked over, locking eyes with Adrian. For a moment, something unreadable flickered behind his gaze. Damien looked up just in time to catch Adrian's stare before he looked away. His heart skipped. Why was Adrian defending her? Damien's father, Peter Wrenford, had three brothers. Adrian was the youngest son of Alaric and Audrey Brooks. He was just a few years older than Damien himself. He had left the family business years ago and built his own empire from scratch. Now, Grotto Corporation outmatched the Wrenford family's legacy by miles. Adrian ruled the whole business world. And in this house, his word carried weight that couldn't be ignored. Damien opened his mouth, then shut it. Just then, the doctor came downstairs. Thankfully, Lucian's condition wasn't serious—he'd been treated, and everything was under control. Once the doctor left, Damien straightened up and said, "Either way, we need to settle things tonight." "I couldn't agree more. Since everyone's here, why not let them be witnesses?" Celeste walked over to the couch, pulled a document from her bag, and returned to stand in front of Damien. Without another word, she laid the divorce papers in front of him. Damien reached out and took them, and his eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn't expected her to have them ready so soon. "Sign it. From now on, we're done." With that, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving behind whispers, gasps, and chaos. Damien stared at her retreating figure, and his grip on the divorce papers tightened as his hand trembled ever so slightly. She'd just slapped him in the face—without ever lifting a hand. How well played. In the corner, Adrian sat quietly as his gaze remained hidden in the warm glow of the chandelier. There was a faint smile on his face. Now, that was a hell of a performance. … Outside the gates of the Wrenford residence, Celeste pulled up a ride-hailing app, hoping to get a car. But with the Wrenford residence perched halfway up a hill, no one was willing to accept the request. Ten minutes passed with no luck. She clenched her jaw and started walking down the winding road. She wasn't going back in there, no matter what. Whatever else she lost tonight, she'd keep her dignity. She'd barely walked five minutes when a wave of dizziness washed over her. She instinctively reached for her forehead. She was burning up. The fever must have been back. Just then, headlights swept across the road behind her. A sleek Maybach slowed as it approached and finally came to a stop beside her. The back window rolled down. Celeste turned just in time to hear a familiar voice. "Ms. Morin, do you need a ride?" Adrian asked.