Just then, a soft, familiar voice drifted toward them. "What are you all standing here for?"

Arabella stepped off the far terrace, her phone still clutched in her hand. Her eyes were wide with a flicker of surprise, though her face remained impossible to read.

Brenton and Archie traded a fast look, both letting out a quiet, synchronized sigh of relief. They were well aware of just how much Arabella's world revolved around her family. If she'd actually heard a word of their conversation, there was no way she'd be this composed; she'd be in tears, falling apart and making a scene.

Brenton offered a small, practiced smile as he reached out to take her bag. "It's nothing, really. Why didn't you just come in?"

He was undeniably striking, his tailored charcoal suit perfectly accentuating his tall, athletic build.

With C&S Technologies exploding to a ten-billion-dollar valuation, Brenton had become the golden boy of the local tech scene before even hitting twenty-seven.

Brenton carried the effortless charm of a winner; a little bit of kindness from him was usually enough to win over anyone.

Arabella's fingers were icy and shaking, but even as Brenton touched her, he didn't seem to notice a thing.

That kind of empty, fake affection was the last thing Arabella wanted. She took a mental breath, forcing herself to stay sharp and see things for what they were.

Arabella forced a thin smile. "I had a call come through and didn't want to interrupt your meeting, so I stepped onto the terrace to take it."

At that, every bit of tension vanished from Brenton's face.

Archie frowned with displeasure. "Since you chose to be a housewife, stay away from the office. If you absolutely have to visit, make an appointment like everyone else. You're wasting Brenton's time. You've always been reckless and immature—your sister would never act like this."

Arabella thought bitterly that if it had been Brinley, the visit would have been celebrated, and every move she made would have been called perfect.

Arabella simply nodded and said, "You're absolutely right."

Archie's brow furrowed. Normally, Arabella would have argued relentlessly or done something desperate to prove she was Brinley's equal. Why was she being so gentle all of a sudden?

Instead of feeling satisfied, her quiet submission made him feel strangely dismissed. He figured it was just her usual, disappointing performance that was getting under his skin.

His frown deepening, Archie said, "You haven't visited in ages. Come back home for dinner tomorrow; Mom and Dad have some things to discuss with us."

"Of course." Brenton spoke up. "I'll make sure Bella is there."

Without so much as a parting look at Arabella, Archie turned and walked away.

Brenton guided Arabella into his office and immediately reached out to pull her into his arms. "What's with the surprise visit? Did you miss me that much?"

The familiar, woody scent of his cologne filled Arabella's senses. She placed a hand against his chest, her eyes locked on the bag in his hand. It contained the results of her fertility tests, but she realized there was absolutely no point in showing him anymore.

She was practically radiating tension, and Brenton's smile faded as he caught onto her odd demeanor. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Arabella looked up at him, and for a fleeting second, she felt a burning urge to slap the fake concern right off his face. But she knew a scene like that wouldn't actually fix anything. She wanted out—she wanted a divorce. She was done with the Rogers family once and for all.

More than that, she needed proof that Brinley was behind the attack that had nearly destroyed her years ago. She was going to get the justice she deserved, no matter how long it took.

"Do you really think I don't measure up to Brinley?" she asked in a low voice.

Brenton blinked, surprised. So, that was what was eating at her. He gave her forehead a playful tap. "You don't need to be comparing yourself to her, Bella."

It was the kind of statement that could be taken in two very different ways. The first way to take it was that she simply fell short of Brinley in every way. The second was that she was her own person, unique in the world.

Before, Arabella would have chosen to believe the second version. But now, she knew better. Brenton had meant the first. She didn't expect him to have a way with words, masking cutting words beneath a gentle tone.

Before she could sit with that thought, the office door swung open with a hard knock, and Sallie walked in carrying two cups of coffee.

Arabella used the interruption to slip away from Brenton's embrace and settled herself on the sofa.

Sallie set one cup down on the table in front of Arabella and carried the other over to Brenton.

"Your coffee, Mr. Curtis," Sallie cooed, bending down slightly.

Brenton reached for the cup, and as he did, Sallie's fingers grazed his palm.

"Sallie, was it?" Arabella abruptly spoke.

Sallie stiffened. Brenton's fingers closed a little tighter around the cup. He looked over to find Arabella watching them both with a gentle smile.

"I just want to change my drink to juice. I'm on medicine for pregnancy, so coffee isn't recommended. Why are you both suddenly so tense?" Arabella's voice was soft.

"Go get it changed," Brenton commanded, his tone icy. His stern gaze wordlessly warned Sallie to obey.

The color left Sallie's face. She pressed her lips together. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Curtis. I'll bring the juice for you right now."

She picked up the cup and got out of the room as quickly as she could.

Arabella watched Sallie go, her expression unreadable, until Brenton stepped into her line of sight and blocked the view entirely. She laughed lightly. "Can't even handle basic tasks properly. Since when did you become so lenient with interns?"

The tension in Brenton's face eased. He had sensed that something was off about her demeanor, but looking at her now, it seemed to be just jealousy—nothing significant.

Leaning over the back of the sofa, he brought his face closer to hers, amusement sitting plainly in his eyes. "Jealous, huh? She's just a college student I'm sponsoring, here for an internship. She is young and innocent, so why are you picking a fight with a little girl?"

Arabella inwardly sneered. Apparently, Brenton had forgotten that she had worked tirelessly by his side since she was eighteen to help build this company.

In the beginning, C&S Technologies was nothing more than a tiny team of fewer than ten employees.

She had started as Brenton's basic assistant and worked through every hardship until she finally earned the position of head of the public relations department.

She could still vividly remember a time when a difficult client had brought her to tears, and she recalled exactly how Brenton had reacted. "If you want to do this job well, you have to deal with setbacks. Nobody is going to tolerate your mistakes or your bad moods."

At that time, she had foolishly thought that Brenton's harsh attitude was a form of discipline meant to push her forward for her own good.

Ultimately, she realized that he was perfectly capable of being compassionate; he simply chose never to show that kindness to her.

......

Stepping out of the building, Arabella felt her strength vanish, and she collapsed onto a nearby roadside bench.

Slowly, she lowered her head and hid her face in her trembling hands.

Every bit of her composed facade disappeared, replaced by a deep sense of sorrow and bitter resentment.

As the sun began to set, the autumn wind brought chilling raindrops that soaked through her clothes.

Watching the withered leaves get crushed into the mud by passing cars, she felt that her love and loyalty had been destroyed in the exact same way.

Eventually, her shaking body grew still as she regained control over her emotions.

Lifting her head with newfound determination, Arabella took out her phone and dialed a familiar number without hesitation.

Although the person on the other end picked up immediately, Arabella found herself unable to utter a word.

"Arabella? What's wrong?" asked a voice that sounded both familiar and somewhat unfamiliar at the same time.

Feeling tears sting her eyes, she whispered, "I'm sorry for bothering you at this hour. I wanted to know if I could still apply to join the lab for the eVTOL project."

She held her breath, her face turning red as a wave of uncertainty washed over her.

At just fifteen, she'd beat out the competition to get into Alverton University, a world-famous academy, where everyone pretty much pegged her as a prodigy in aircraft design.

During her junior year, she actually cracked the code on obstacle avoidance using multi-sensor fusion. Her algorithms basically made drones way more reliable and accurate at dodging things in their path.

She took that tech and built a drone for fire monitoring that was so advanced for its time that it even blew her professor away.

Her professor helped her land a patent, which paved the way for her master's degree and PhD, and her professor even took her on as his last protégé. Back then, it felt like she had the world at her feet.

Arabella donated that patent to the nation. At the time, she was easily the professor's star pupil. She didn't stop there; she teamed up with some college friends to start LightWing Aerial, a promising company focused on lightweight aerial photography.

But four years ago, blinded by what she believed to be love, she walked away from her dreams, her studies, and her bright career, failing her professor's expectations just to work as Brenton's assistant.

Even so, her professor never actually gave up on her; two years back, he flew all the way from Trouport just to ask her to join his lab for the newly established eVTOL project, but she turned him down again.

But now, upon reflection, she regretted her decision and all the sacrifices she'd made for Brenton. Not a little, but deeply and profoundly, in a way that settled right in her bones.

Biting her lip roughly enough that it almost bled, she listened to the warm, excited voice on the other end of the line. "Of course! As I said, as long as you want to come back, the door is always open! When can you get here? I'll book the flight for you right now—is tomorrow too early?"

Arabella felt a rush of warmth. "But is the professor still..."

"Oh, you know how he is! Just show up and surprise him. Trust me, the second he sees you, he won't be mad anymore. And if he is, just cook him a good meal—maybe two if he's really grumpy."

She finally smiled through her tears. "I'll cook for him every day if that's what it takes! I might need about a month to get everything sorted out on my end. Is that okay?"

"Take all the time you need. I'll be here waiting for you."

"Thank you. Really."

Arabella ended the call and sat in quiet for a moment. The heaviness that had been sitting on her chest had loosened, just a little. One month. That was all she needed. Enough time to end the marriage, pack up what was hers, leave this city behind, and finally go after the life she had put on hold.

She lifted her head, and for the first time in a long while, everything had felt clear.

At that precise moment, a black Bentley rolled past. The back window was rolled halfway down, and through it, Arabella could see a young woman perched on a man's lap, the two of them kissing without a care, the cold autumn air moving around them like it wasn't even there.

If Brenton had glanced out the window, he would have seen his wife sitting off to the side of the road, soaked through by the rain, her body cold, and her eyes empty.

But he never turned. All his attention stayed on the excitement the young woman stirred in him, and the thought of his wife no longer crossed his mind.

Arabella watched as the car disappeared into the glow of the neon lights before pushing herself to stand.

From her bag, she pulled out the fertility test report. She ripped it apart piece by piece and then dropped the torn scraps into a nearby trash bin.

Without hesitation, she turned around and headed the other way.

Night had settled in completely, and a thin drizzle kept falling.

Even the usually lively business district had gone quiet and empty.

At a street corner, an elderly woman crouched under a streetlamp. Rain mist clung to her gray hair, and a small pile of flowers rested at her feet.

Arabella felt that life never went easy on people, and love offered no help.

Arabella slid off her wedding ring, placed it into the elderly woman's palm, and then gently folded the woman's fingers over it. "It's raining. You should head home soon."

Before the elderly woman could react, Arabella had already walked away.

Shortly after, a black Rolls-Royce pulled up at the intersection, coming to a stop. The driver's door swung open.

A man stepped out, his polished dress shoes touching the wet pavement as his suit pants lifted slightly, revealing his sharp ankles covered by black socks.

With a straight posture, he stepped out of the car and raised a black umbrella over his head. He moved closer and helped the shaking elderly woman to her feet, his brows drawn together.

The elderly woman quickly spoke up. "Conny, don't get upset with me. I didn't think it would start raining. I'm still in good shape. A little rain won't do anything to me."

Earlier, the elderly woman had gone to watch a concert. On the way back, the driver accidentally knocked down a woman who was selling flowers.

The driver brought the woman to the hospital. Since they were already close to the company, the elderly woman stayed by the roadside and waited for her workaholic grandson to come get her.

Under her grandson's cold gaze, the elderly woman's voice trailed off. Then, something came to her mind, and she quickly took out the ring and handed it over. "A young lady got the wrong idea and pushed this ring into my hand. She left before I could explain anything. Hurry and catch her so you can give it back." She pointed toward a direction.

Connor Brooks followed where his grandmother pointed, though all he saw was a slim figure fading into the neon glow. "You get inside the car first," he said.

Once he settled his grandmother in the seat, he adjusted the temperature, draped a blanket over her, and shut the door. Without wasting another second, he turned and went after the young lady.

His steps carried him forward in long strides, and the distant figure ahead slowly came into focus.

Rain fell in a steady drizzle as she moved at an unhurried pace, her mist-blue trench coat soaked through and clinging to her frame, drawing attention to her narrow waist and making her look even more delicate.

Each step she took carried quiet resolve. Her posture stayed straight, and a distant chill lingered around her, as if the noise of the city could not reach her.

Connor picked up speed, but when he rounded the corner, she had already vanished. Nothing remained on the long stretch of road. Puddles scattered across the pavement caught the broken glow of the lights, leaving him to wonder if he had imagined her at all.

Connor returned to the car, and the elderly woman leaned forward right away, waiting for his answer.

Connor shrugged. "Didn't catch up."

"You're in charge of an airline, and you deal with planes every day. Yet you still lost track of one woman?"

"Grandma, your logic is flawed."

"You really disappointed me this time. That lady was both kind and beautiful. If you had shown up just a little earlier, I might've set you up with her."

With a flat tone, Connor said, "She's married."

He handed the ring to Kristen Brooks and pointed out that it was clearly a wedding ring.

Kristen pulled her hand away at once and pushed the ring back toward him. "Married or not, what does it matter? She took off her wedding ring. Doesn't that say something? You should've taken the chance."

Between his fingers, Connor slowly rotated the ring. The pink diamond caught what little light there was and gave off a sharp glow. He found himself holding onto a wedding ring that belonged to someone he didn't even know, with no idea what he was supposed to do next.

Kristen fixed him with a hard stare.

With a quiet sigh, Connor gave in and flicked the ring onto the center console. A faint smile touched his lips, and there was a careless ease in the way he looked as he said, "You're really that desperate for me to go after her?"

"I'm not joking with you. That ring is worth at least a million. You have to find that woman and return it. Do you understand?"

"Alright, I hear you," Connor replied, his eyes drifting toward the ring resting on the console. This was going to be a hassle.

......

Only after settling into the taxi did Arabella notice the message Brenton had sent two hours ago. "Honey, I've got something to deal with tonight, so I won't be coming home. Go to bed early."

Arabella didn't respond. Instead, she backed out of the chat, unpinned the conversation, and erased the contact name she had saved as "Darling."

When she stepped back home, silence greeted her. The place felt cold and lifeless. Dragging her tired body upstairs, she pushed open the bedroom door and then stopped where she stood.

Flowers covered the entire room. Rose petals stretched from the doorway all the way to the bed.

Even the bedding had been switched out to her favorite yellow silk set.

Petals lay scattered across everything, creating a warm and romantic scene.

Every bit of preparation she had made now felt like nothing more than a cruel joke.

Without hesitation, Arabella hurried forward and yanked at the sheets, sweeping away those pointless petals along with them.

A sharp, nonstop doorbell ringing dragged Arabella out of sleep the next morning, and her head throbbed as she forced herself awake. Still groggy, she made her way downstairs and pulled the door open.

Her best friend, Madisyn Owen, stood outside with anger written all over her face. She didn't give Arabella a chance to react before pulling her into a tight hug, her teeth clenched as she started venting.

"That jerk Brenton! What is he even thinking? His career is finally going somewhere, and this is when he decides to mess things up with an affair? He kept the woman he actually wanted, used you as a cover, and played the role of a perfect husband this whole time. Honestly, he should go into acting with his top-notch skills!"

The more she spoke, the more agitated she seemed.

Guiding Madisyn inside, Arabella brought her over to the sofa and handed her a glass of water.

Madisyn drank it in one go. When she finally looked up, she noticed the exhaustion on Arabella's face and the dark circles under her eyes. Her expression shifted, and she reached into her bag to pull out a stack of photos. "Bella..."

"It's fine. What did you find? Let me take a look," Arabella replied, forcing a small smile as she reached for the photos.

Arabella had already braced herself, but the moment her eyes landed on those close, intimate shots, her breathing faltered. So this was the truth. Brenton had been keeping Sallie at Aroma Villa, a place not far from the company.

The two of them walked around openly, shopping side by side, their fingers intertwined as they headed home together.

Under the dim light of dusk, Sallie clung to Brenton, her legs hooked around his waist as they stumbled together toward their house, their closeness leaving little to the imagination.

Some designer bags Sallie showed off online were even identical to the ones Brenton had gifted Arabella.

In her most recent post, Sallie wore a diamond bracelet draped across her fingers, pressed lightly against a man's chest, with a caption that read, "He gives me diamonds, and his heart is never far from me."

Arabella's fingers tightened until the color drained from her knuckles, and a sharp sting filled her eyes. It wasn't lingering affection, but the raw ache of something that hadn't fully healed, and regret crept in over her misplaced trust. Someone who gave their heart blindly had to accept the cost that came with it.

Madisyn snatched the photos away, her gaze softening with sympathy. "Good thing you never had sex with him. If you had, you'd probably need a full check-up, and even if the report came back just fine, the sickening feelings alone would stick with you forever."

A dry laugh slipped from Arabella as she shook her head. "Then I guess I am somewhat lucky."

Without hesitation, Arabella rose to her feet and headed upstairs. A moment later, she came back down carrying two large bags and dropped them in front of Madisyn. "Sell these items for me and use the money to support those underprivileged students."

Everything inside the bags came from Brenton. Clothes, handbags, perfume, watches, and jewelry—gifts he'd given her over the past few years.

While packing them, Arabella finally saw them for what they were—selected casually without much thought or care.

There was a time when she held onto them as if they were treasures. But now, she didn't even want the person who gave them to her, let alone the things he gave her. She wouldn't want to wear some of them out, only to bump into his mistresses who donned the precise same pieces.

Both Arabella and Madisyn had grown up in the same orphanage, and now Madisyn, along with two friends, had started a studio. They took on any job that paid. Following people, taking photos, exposing affairs, pretending to be someone's partner, buying and selling items for others, chasing after celebrities, and even walking dogs. As long as there was money, they would do it.

Pulling the bags closer, Madisyn didn't hesitate before making up her mind. "I'll just copy Brenton's moves, masking the unfaithfulness with the noble name of sponsoring those in need. Let's see how Brenton likes being on the other side of things."

Madisyn had no intention of letting Brenton off the hook easily.

A wry laugh slipped from Arabella as she shook her head. "That won't be necessary. Just use the money to help those underprivileged students. Not every one in a bad situation turns out like Sallie. And Brenton may be awful, but I'm not going to sink to his level."

Madisyn let out a long breath, silently cursing Brenton over and over again. That jerk had lost Arabella, the rare gem, forever.

Madisyn asked, "What are you going to do next? His business is doing better than ever right now. For someone who built everything from nothing, his reputation matters too much. There's no way he'll let his image as a devoted husband fall apart. I don't think he'll agree to a divorce that easily..."

On top of that, Madisyn had always felt Brenton was somewhat obsessive. It didn't seem like he was completely indifferent to Arabella, and that made things even more complicated.

......

The rest of the day passed with Arabella staying home, sorting through her things and preparing to leave as soon as possible.

Her grandmother had left her a small apartment before her death. Arabella decided that once everything was settled, she would move there.

By the time evening came, Arabella sat in front of the vanity, carefully getting ready when Brenton returned to take her to dine with the Rogers family.

Coming up from behind, Brenton rested his hand on her shoulder and gazed at her through the mirror. "You look stunning."

Her lashes lowered for a moment before she turned to meet his eyes. "Brenton, do you actually love me?"

Brenton leaned down and wrapped his arms around her. "Why would you suddenly ask something like that? Have I been neglecting you lately because of work? Once I get some time off, I'll make it up to you. We can finally have our wedding and go on our honeymoon. Didn't you always say you wanted to travel overseas?"

She shifted back slightly, letting his arms fall away without making it obvious. "There's no need for that. If there's no love between us, then we should just divorce. I don't have to stay as your wife."

They had known each other for thirteen years. Even if love hadn't grown the way it should have, there should've been at least something left between them. What she wanted was simple. She hoped he would be honest for once, so they could part without tearing everything apart.

However, upon hearing her words, Brenton's hand shot up and clamped around her jaw. His expression hardened, and his voice dropped into something cold and sharp. "Divorce? Don't even think about it! The only way this marriage becomes invalid is the death of either of us. I will never accept a divorce!"

Each word struck her like a blow. A chill ran down her spine, and the color drained from her face.

From a simple background, Brenton had climbed his way up step by step. Luck played a part, but his mind and ability were what truly pushed him forward.

Without warning, a memory surfaced in Arabella's mind. Back then, during a crucial round of company funding, they had been up against another tech firm for venture capital.

Just before the final stage, the rival company's boss got into a car accident and missed the opportunity, which allowed Brenton to secure the deal.

Looking back, the other team's technology had actually been stronger. The timing of that accident felt too convenient.

For years, Arabella had placed Brenton on a pedestal and never once thought to question his character. But now, doubts crept in.

"Do you really mean those words?" Arabella asked. A cold feeling spread through her body as she looked at Brenton, her voice unsteady, her eyes tinged with red.

Misinterpreting her reaction, Brenton's expression softened. He smiled and brushed her cheek with his hand. "Of course, I mean it. Bella, we've known each other for thirteen years. How could you doubt my loyalty? Think about it. If I didn't love you, why would I go against every unpleasant voice, including your blood family and adoptive father's, just to be with you? Why would I build this company with you? Bella, you and I are meant to grow old together."

Years back, after Arabella went missing, she ended up in an orphanage. Later, she was adopted by a man with the last name Sullivan, and even after returning to the Rogers family, she had never changed it.

Every word Brenton spoke sounded sincere, and he genuinely meant every single word. Brinley had always been the one he could never reach, the dream he once held onto, the love he had imagined. Yet, the moment he chose Arabella, whatever chance he once had with Brinley was already over.

As for Sallie, she never meant anything serious to him. In his mind, there had only ever been one person who could stand beside him as his wife, and that was Arabella. From the beginning, he had never imagined spending his life with anyone else.

There was no denying that Brenton had an attractive appearance. When he smiled, his eyes carried a warmth that felt sincere, enough to draw anyone in without resistance.

If Arabella hadn't heard that conversation with her own ears, she might have continued believing in that illusion, never realizing he was a master of deception. She forced herself to steady her breathing. "Then agree to one thing for me."

A faint lift of his brow showed his curiosity, and his tone softened with indulgence. "Go ahead. I'll say yes to whatever you want."

Without hesitation, Arabella stepped back and reached for the bedside table. She picked up a set of papers and placed them in his hands. "If you're really that certain you won't betray me, then sign this."

Brenton took the papers with an easy smile, but the moment his eyes landed on the bold title—Divorce Agreement—his expression changed. "Arabella, what is this supposed to mean? Why the heck are you making a fuss?"

His grip tightened around the papers, and the sound of them crumpling filled the silence.

"You claimed your unwavering loyalty to me, so why hesitate? Just sign it. Once you do, I'll believe everything you say. You—"

She didn't get to finish her words as Brenton cut in, his expression darkening. "That's enough! All of this just over a female secretary of mine? You've been suspicious nonstop. Arabella, haven't I treated you well enough all these years? A marriage is built on trust, and now you're testing me with this? You've really disappointed me! Don't ever show me something like this again!"

He didn't bother reading a single line of the clause. With one motion, he tore the agreement apart and flung the pieces aside before storming out. The door slammed shut behind him.

Amid the scattered fragments, Arabella remained where she stood, her fists tightening as a cold, mocking look filled her eyes. Madisyn had been right. There was no way Brenton would agree to a divorce easily. It had only been a test, yet his reaction had already gone this far. But if he truly cared about her as he'd claimed, he would have noticed that so many of her belongings were already gone from the house.

Even while he strayed in both body and heart, he still wanted to keep her bound to this hollow marriage.

She realized that the usual way of ending a marriage wouldn't work. She would have to find another way.

Because of their argument, the ride back to the Rogers family estate passed in tense silence.

As the car drew closer to their destination, Brenton finally broke the silence. He reached for Arabella's hand, his tone softening. "If having a female secretary around me bothers you that much, I'll move Sallie to another department."

In his mind, there was no real chance Arabella wanted a divorce. She couldn't live without him. Her feelings for him ran too deep, and that was why she reacted with intense jealousy.

With that thought, a sense of satisfaction settled in him, and he decided he could afford to give in a little. Reassigning Sallie away from the CEO's office wasn't impossible. Still, Arabella needed to understand when to stop pushing. He wouldn't let her act increasingly recklessly.

With that in mind, he added, "I'll let this slide this time. But Bella, I won't keep putting up with your unreasonable behavior."

Holding back the urge to pull her hand away, Arabella answered in a steady voice, "Maybe I've taken too much bitter medicine lately, and it's got me all worked up."

Concern showed on Brenton's face as he reached out and brushed her hair. "You've been through a lot, honey. But for our future, and for the baby, just hold on a little longer, alright? I've already thought it through. We'll have just one child. I've even chosen the name."

He leaned closer, wrapping his arms around her, his voice lowering with anticipation as he spoke near her ear.

Arabella lowered her gaze, hiding the icy contempt in her eyes. In her heart, she had already decided to tear apart every illusion he was clinging to.

Inside the Rogers family's estate, a full spread of dishes covered the table, yet not a single person reached for their utensils.

Seated around the table were Arabella's parents, Jorge and Lauren Rogers, along with her brothers, Brody and Archie Rogers.

Right across from them, a large screen had been set up, showing a video call interface as they waited for Brinley, who was overseas, to connect.

"You can all wait if you want. I'm going to eat," Arabella said as she picked up her fork and knife to dig in.

Jorge's expression darkened immediately. "Put that down. How rude of you!"

"So, it's not rude to have everyone sit here hungry just to wait for Brinley to answer a call?" Arabella retorted.

The situation felt almost laughable to Arabella. They had insisted she come back for this dinner, even when she didn't want to, yet every time, she was expected to sit and wait for Brinley.

Because of the time difference, the entire household had even adjusted their meal times just for Brinley.

Lauren's brows knitted together. "Arabella, your sister is all alone studying abroad. She feels lonely, and all she asks for is a daily video call with her family. What's wrong with waiting a little for her?"

Brody added, "Look at the effort the family put into this meal for you. Meanwhile, Brinley can only have simple food where she is. What more do you want?"

A mocking sound came from Archie as he spoke. "Dad, Mom, Brody, every time Arabella comes back, she stirs up trouble. If she hadn't always competed with Brinley over everything, Brinley wouldn't have chosen a school abroad just to avoid further conflicts. If Arabella could be even half as thoughtful as Brinley, this family wouldn't be such a mess."

Arabella found the whole scene absurd. Just mentioning her growling stomach, and yet that alone was enough to draw criticism from everyone. Brinley didn't even have to come back, and the entire family rushed to her defense.

Arabella exhaled as their indifference no longer wounded her; she gave up trying to earn their approval and fight for their affection. If not for wanting to look into the past incident and find out whether Jorge, Lauren, and Brody knew anything, she wouldn't have stepped into this house again.

With a faint, mocking smile, Arabella ladled herself a bowl of soup. "So she went abroad just to avoid me? That's unexpected. I always thought she left because her grades weren't good enough for an ordinary school here."

"By the way, I heard she chased after some pilot she's obsessed with overseas. So, did she manage to win him over?" she added casually, her gaze shifting toward Brenton beside her.

Brenton's face didn't change, but Arabella caught the way his hand tightened against his knee. The sadness of unrequited love. The thought made her appetite return.

Arabella lowered her head and reached for her soup, but before she could taste it, Archie suddenly knocked the bowl over. "Arabella, are you pretending not to hear us? I dare you to eat!"

The soup spilled over Arabella's clothes, seeping through the fabric as heat spread across her chest and stomach.

But no one showed an ounce of concern for Arabella.

Archie continued, pointing at her, "And what kind of nonsense did you just spout? Brinley is talented enough to get into university with her skills in cello, piano, and painting alone!"

Brody's voice followed, stern and disapproving. "And what's wrong with her pursuing someone she likes? That shows confidence. It means she knows what she wants and has the courage to go for it. Unlike you, always bringing embarrassment to this family. It's a good thing Brenton is willing to tolerate you."

Without warning, Arabella stood up and grabbed at her clothes, and only then did Brenton realize she had been burned.

"That's enough. Bella is hurt. Let me take a look," Brenton said firmly, pulling her closer.

"The soup isn't even hot. How badly could she be hurt? It's just attention-seeking behavior. She's always been like this. Brenton, you're too easily fooled," Lauren remarked with a dismissive tone.

A cold laugh slipped from Arabella as she brushed his hand aside and lifted the hem of her shirt.