Chapter 648

Vincent's gaze was sharp as a blade, and its chill made Vera's heart falter for a moment. Still, she clung to their shared past like a shield. "Why so serious, Vincent? Back in high school, I used to just enter your room whenever I wanted. Since when did you start enforcing all these rules?"

His expression didn't soften; if anything, it hardened further,the displeasure clear on his face.

Realizing he was genuinely angry, Vera reluctantly retreated to the doorway. She gave a light, exaggerated knock on the open door, her tone half defiant. "There, I've knocked. Satisfied now?"

Vincent didn't even glance her way. He turned slightly,adjusting his sleeves, his voice cool and distant. "What do you want?"

Vera straightened up, speaking as though her request were the most natural thing in the world. "I just saw the servant put my luggage in the guest room at the end of the third-floor hallway. The lighting there is awful, and I don't like it. I'd rather stay in the master bedroom on the second floor-the one with the big balcony and private study. Your grandma said it's your room and told me to ask if you'd let me have it."

She fluttered her lashes, clearly hoping Sharon's name would sway him.

Vincent didn't hesitate. His tone was firm and absolute. "No."

The single word hit her like a slap. Her face fell. "Why not?That room is bright and spacious, and I'd feel much more comfortable there! Besides, Sharon said you haven't used it since your memory loss. It's just collecting dust-why not let

since your memory loss. It's just collecting dust-why not let me stay in it?"

Vincent's reply came cold and final. "No particular reasons. I said no, and that's final. If the guest room feels too small, I can book you a presidential suite at a hotel. You'll have all the space you want."

That master bedroom was more than just a room to him. Back when he had first returned home after losing his memory, the master bedroom had been the place he instinctively went to.

But the moment he stepped inside and saw the traces of another's presence-the feminine touch in every detail-his head had started to pound. Fragments of heated arguments had flashed across his mind like lightning behind clouds,leaving him uneasy and restless.

Later, he had learned from the servants that it had been his and Hannah's room post marriage and that she had personally designed every corner of it.

From that day on, he had never crossed its threshold again.Everyone had assumed he simply disliked the décor. But deep down, he knew it was something else-a quiet rebellion of the heart,resisting the ghost of a memory that might awaken too much emotion.

Vera, stung by his rejection, gave a small huff. "Fine,I'll stay where I'm told. No need to bite my head off."

Her eyes then swept over him, noticing his attire, as though preparing to go out rather than retire for the night. "Heading out this late?" she asked.

"Yes." His answer was curt, offering no further explanation.

"Going out to unwind? Take me along. I've just gotten back and could use some fun," she said hopefully.

"It's business," he replied flatly.

"Oh." The disappointment in her tone was unmistakable.

Without another glance, Vincent moved toward the stairs.

But Vera wasn't finished. "Oh, right! Tomorrow night, I'm hosting a party at Westview Restaurant. You have to come!"

Vincent paused mid-step, frowning. "I'm busy. I won't make it."

Vera crossed her arms, refusing to give up. "I don't care-you have to come! If you don't, I'll move the entire party to the Jones Group's lobby! I mean it!"

She wasn't bluffing-she was just the sort of woman who would make good on such a threat.

Vincent's expression darkened, and she quickly softened her tone. "Come on, Vincent. I've invited lots of our old high school friends. We haven't all been together in years. Who knows-it might even help you recover some memories."