Chapter 358
Beatrice Quincy glared at Evelyn Laurent with icy disdain, her voice dripping with authority. "Evelyn Laurent, stop trying to sow discord between us. Bianca and I grew up together. Our bond is unbreakable."
Evelyn's lips curled into a mocking smile, her gaze sharp as a blade. "Beatrice Quincy, do you even believe the nonsense you're spouting?"
"Beatrice!"
Xander Quincy's urgent shout cut through the tension between the two women.
He arrived breathless, sweat glistening on his forehead. Timothy Gold had summoned him in a panic, fearing Beatrice might cause an irreversible scene during the live broadcast.
Xander sensed something amiss between Beatrice and Bianca Fairchild—likely involving those unspeakable secrets of wealthy families.
Though he'd stood his ground against Beatrice earlier, now...
Sometimes retreat was the wiser choice.
Let Beatrice ruin her reputation elsewhere—just not during his show's live stream!
Xander grabbed Beatrice's wrist, his brow furrowed. "I told you to rest in the tent. Why are you out here?"
He knew the truth. Beatrice hadn't come for Bianca.
She'd used Bianca as an excuse to see Julian Langley.
Xander couldn't comprehend Beatrice's obsession with Julian, especially when the man clearly despised her.
Beatrice's eyes welled up instantly, her voice trembling. "Xander, I was just worried about Bianca, but..."
Her words dissolved into dramatic sobs, as if she'd suffered some grave injustice.
Xander's patience wore thin as he forced out a stiff consolation. "Enough, Beatrice. Stop crying."
Evelyn watched the performance with cold amusement. "How convincing."
Beatrice's tears halted momentarily before she wailed even louder.
Xander broke into a nervous sweat, desperately signaling Ethan Sullivan with his eyes.
For heaven's sake!
Make Evelyn shut up already!
Certain things shouldn't be discussed on camera...
His gaze shifted to Bianca, his expression unreadably complex.
But Bianca merely turned away, her indifference cutting deeper than any blade.
Xander stared at her, his chest constricting painfully.
Why...?
Why was she looking at him like a stranger?
A glint of cold fury flashed in Ethan's eyes. Just as Evelyn prepared another verbal strike, he gently tugged her sleeve.
Evelyn frowned and shot him an irritated glare.
Ethan raised his hand with puppy-dog eyes, his voice soft and wounded. "Evelyn... my hand hurts..."