BookToReadChapter 205 Victor's chiseled features were as expressionless as ever; his lips curled in the faintest hint of a smile. "You'll have to wait until the next life for that," he said coolly.
Deanna's smile was warm, almost indulgent. "But isn't your fiancée, Gemma Lennox from LS Capital Holdings, about to graduate? Maybe it'll happen as soon as next year." Victor's eyes narrowed, cold and sharp. "You mean the one who's barely out of diapers?" "Watch your mouth," Deanna chided gently, stepping forward to pat her grandson's shoulder.
He gave a low, mocking chuckle. "Am I wrong? When you all made that verbal agreement, how old were we? My only memory of her is as a kid still clutching a bottle." Deanna felt a little dizzy listening to him. She knew Victor had never really acknowledged the engagement-and now certainly wasn't the tto push it. This would take patience.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtFor now, the most important thing was to clear out the scheming women hovering around her grandson. Just then, Pattie stepped in. "Mrs. Fitzgerald, sir, lunch is ready. Would you please cto the dining room?" Meals at the Fitzgerald estate were always an event. The three-meter-long Italian mahogany table gleamed under the chandelier, set with immaculate silverware and sparkling glasses. Dorian Fitzgerald hadn't returned yet, so Deanna took the seat at the head of the table, with Victor sitting directly opposite her.
Nannie, who'd been standing off to the side sneaking glances at Victor, hesitated before finally moving to sit beside Deanna.
The table looked like something out of a royal banquet, with delicate cutlery lined up from forks to spoons, all in perfect order. The staff, dressed in crisp uniforms, stood by to serve dishes, ladle soup, and pour tea.
Nannie reached for a massive Alaskan king crab, using the silver cracking tool to carefully extract the tender meat and place it on a white porcelain plate. First, she offered sto Deanna, then-pretending casualness- stood, and placed a generous portion in the blue-and-white bowl in front of Victor.
"Victor, you should try this," she said. "It's fresh Alaskan king crab, flown in from Europe this morning. The meat is especially tender this season." No sooner had she finished than Victor picked up his fork and swept the crab from his bowl back onto the table with a clatter. His voice was calm, almost indifferent. "I'm allergic to crab." He gave a slight nod to a nearby server, who instantly brought him a fresh bowl of rice and set it before him respectfully.
Nannie's face went red; her hand tightened around her fork until her knuckles were white.
Deanna frowned, thinking hard. "Sweetheart, I don't remember you ever being allergic to crab when you were young. Am I forgetting something?" Victor lounged back in his chair, his tone laced with scorn. "Grandmother, I'm not the little boy you used to know. There's a lot you don't know aboutnow." Deanna could hear the cold sarcasm in his voice. Victor never liked coming back home, but today the chill in his demeanor was palpable.
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He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a white napkin, then turned an icy gaze to Nannie. His eyes were like frost, sharp as a winter gale. "Did you go to Summit Crest Estates?" Nannie flinched, glancing nervously at Deanna.
Deanna set down her fork. “I asked her to go. I thought she could bring you snourishing soup.” "Is that so?" Victor's reply was soft but glacial, each word radiating bone-deep cold.
He tossed his napkin carelessly onto the table and stood, his dark eyes cutting through them both His voice dropped suddenly frigid and uncompromising. "This is the first and last time. Tomorrow, have someone send her back to Solstrand."
With that, he turned and strode out, e his tall figure retreating, leaving only a cold, aloof presence behind. Deanna and Nannie sat in stunned silence at the table, faces drained of color.
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