Chapter 356

Vincent stiffened in surprise. Wine? Hannah rarely made requests of her own.

Without a word, Vincent lifted his hand in a subtle command toward the butler outside the door.

The butler immediately disappeared and then returned moments later with a tray bearing a bottle of vintage red and two crystal goblets. With practiced grace, he filled both glasses and set them before Vincent and Hannah.

Hannah, however, didn't lift hers. Her eyes lingered on the liquid, unfocused, as though her thoughts had drifted far away.

Seconds stretched, the silence so heavy that even the sound of their breathing felt amplified in the vast dining room.

Abruptly, her hand slid forward, fingers closing around the stem of her glass. Instead of bringing it to her lips, she rose slowly, her movements deliberate under Vincent's watchful, inscrutable stare. Step by step,she crossed to the gleaming marble near the floor-to-ceiling window, where the faint light pooled across the floor.

Bending slightly, she tilted her wrist. A dark stream of wine spilled out, trickling across the floor in a thin,crimson sheen.

She stayed in that bowed position, her voice quiet yet cutting through the silence with unsettling clarity."|f I've guessed the time right, my father should already be in the ground now."

Her gaze turned distant, empty, as if she were speaking to no one at all. "This glass...is for him."

The moment her words faded, the room collapsed into a suffocating hush, the kind of silence that felt as final as death itself.

Vincent's chest tightened as he watched Hannah's fragile yet unyielding silhouette.A heavy ache clawed at him, spreading like ice through his veins. Almost acting on instinct, he rose to his feet, his movements

tinged with an urgency he didn't even realize was there.

His hand closed around his untouched wineglass, and he crossed the room toward her. Standing at her side,he lifted the glass and tilted his wrist, ready to offer his own silent toast.

"Don't." Hannah whipped her head around, one hand snapping up like a blade to stop him.

A scornful smirk twisted her mouth, every syllable seething with disdain. "Save it. My father absolutely despised you. He wouldn't have wanted your toast."

The stem of Vincent's glass groaned under his tightening grip, the crystal on the verge of shattering. His gaze locked with Hannah's, yet not a single word would come.

At last, he eased the glass back onto the table. Without another glance in her direction, he turned on his heel and walked out in silence.

Hannah watched him leave until the door closed behind him. Her lips curved in a faint, almost mocking smile. She poured herself a glass of wine and tipped it back in one swift motion. The chilled wine slid down her throat, burning with a bitterness that outmatched fire.

The following morning,Vincent showed up at her suite at first light, dressed in a stark black suit that sharpened his already imposing presence.

Hannah didn't move from where she stood. She only held his gaze in silence, her expression unreadable.

He closed the distance between them and extended a hand, revealing a box wrapped with meticulous care.

Inside lay a set of black women's formal wear-tailored with elegant precision, somber and dignified.

"Put it on," he instructed, his tone quiet yet brooking no refusal.

Her eyes lingered on the outfit before drifting back to his face. If her instincts were right, he meant to take her to her father's grave. And that meant last night's little plan had succeeded.

Without pausing, she accepted the clothes and slipped into the bathroom.

Several minutes later, Hannah reemerged. She stopped before him, her posture straight, and gave a

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restrained nod, "Thanks."

Vincent's gaze lingered on her, heavy and unreadable. "You know where I'm taking you?"

" guessed as much," she answered evenly. "I couldn't be there for the funeral, but at the very least, I can stand at his grave."

Vincent offered no reply. He pivoted on his heel instead."Let′Sgo."

The car soon hummed along the road in steady silence.

Hannah offered no words, her face angled toward the window, her gaze unfocused on the scenery rushing by.

Having endured the long drive, the car finally rolled into the quiet heart of the cemetery.

Hannah's eyes caught sight of the crowd first-rows of mourners dressed in black, their solemn faces turned toward a casket at the front. A funeral was underway.

Her breath hitched. Today? Her father was being laid to rest today? Disbelief and shock clouded her gaze,the weight of it striking her chest like a blow.

Vincent had brought her here just in time-just in time for her father's funeral, justin time to say goodbye.

Hannah instantly pushed the car door open and hurried out, her steps unsteady but urgent. Every instinct pulled her toward the center, toward her father's casket.

But a firm hand clamped down on her wrist. She spun, startled, only to find Vincent's piercing eyes fixed on her, his grip unyielding. His voice was low, edged with warning. "You'll stay at the back. Don't move forward."

"That's my father!" Hannah's voice cracked, grief and fury spilling through her trembling words. "You won't even let me walk up there and say goodbye?"

Vincent's grip clamped down like iron, his hold unyielding. His gaze cut through her, cold and commanding."I said-you stay back."

Hannah's lips parted, but no words came at first. Finally, in a voice edged with despair, she said, "Then you shouldn't have brought me here at all."

The anguish in her gaze cut straight through Vincent's armor. His chest tightened, a painful throb he couldn't ignore. He looked at her trembling frame, sorrow making her shoulders shake. Almost instinctively,his grip slackened, his fingers loosening ever so slightly around her wrist.

Vincent knew Claude's men must be lurking in the shadows, waiting for the slightest slip to snatch Hannah away from him. Just bringing her here already pushed the limits of recklessness. The smart mnove was to keep her tightly restrained in the back, ensuring no one could reach her. Logic demanded it. Yet, denying her felt cruel.

In the end, he loosened his hold. He conceded. "Fine. Go ahead."

He consoled himself that the situation was under his control. What was there to fear? If things came to it,he'd tear her away from Claude again-no matter the cost.