Chapter 176

Vanessa gripped Ethan's sleeve with trembling fingers. Her gaze followed Evelyn's retreating figure, tears spilling down her flushed cheeks.

"Ethan, look at her," Vanessa whispered hoarsely. "Evelyn's determined to strip me of everything. Even Grandfather's estate—she wants to take it from me."

Ethan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze but remained silent, his jaw tight.

Swiping at her tears, Vanessa turned to him with desperate eyes. "If I have to fight Evelyn for the house... whose side will you take?"

His frown deepened. "Vanessa, how could you even ask? You know I stand with you."

The words eased the tightness in her chest—just a fraction.

Ryan's mocking voice cut through the moment. "Face it, Vanessa. You're the outsider here. That estate was always meant for Evelyn, and you stole it."

A flash of guilt crossed Vanessa's face before she snapped, "I am not an outsider! My name is Hart—I belong in this family!" Her nails dug into her palms. "The house was given to me. By my father."

For years, the label outsider had haunted her.

Not knowing her birth parents, she had clawed her way into the Hayes family's favor—

The fact that Evelyn was born into nobility made her far more favored by the Hayes family than Vanessa.

"Tsk, tsk! Wasn't the estate your grandfather's? What does it have to do with your father?"

Ryan shook his head, unwilling to waste another breath arguing with her.

The louder she protested, the more obvious her guilt became.

Ryan saw right through it.

Meanwhile, Claire had finished enjoying herself and was preparing to leave.

Vanessa had initially assumed Claire’s comment about keeping Julian was just a petty jab meant to irritate Lucas.

But after the event, Claire actually took Julian home—right under Lucas’s nose.

Vanessa drove, with Claire in the passenger seat and Julian in the back.

A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed Lucas’s Lamborghini tailing them closely.

Two luxury cars moved in tandem down the road, other vehicles instinctively giving them a wide berth.

In the darkness, the Lamborghini’s headlights burned like Lucas’s furious glare. Vanessa could practically picture him slamming his fist against the steering wheel in frustration.

Evelyn stole a glance at Claire in the passenger seat.

Claire suddenly pressed a hand to her mouth, her face paling as she dry-heaved.

"I might have overeaten," Claire murmured, forcing an apologetic smile. She rolled down the window slightly, letting the crisp air soothe the queasiness twisting in her stomach.

Her gaze flickered to the backseat, where Julian sat stiffly, his hands folded neatly in his lap. His eyes remained fixed straight ahead, as if afraid to let them wander.

He was the picture of perfect manners.

Curious, Claire tilted her head. "How did you end up modeling? You don’t strike me as the type to dive into that world. Those women can be ruthless."

Julian didn’t seem like someone who coasted by on charm alone.

What stood out most was his refined demeanor. Earlier, when he had fed her, Claire noticed how meticulous he was—almost fastidious.

After every sip she took, he had gently dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin, careful not to smudge her lipstick. His movements were patient, deliberate, without a trace of irritation.

At her question, Julian stiffened. His head dipped slightly, a shadow of discomfort flickering across his face, as if she had touched a nerve.

His lips pressed into a thin line. His fingers, resting on his knees, curled faintly into fists.

His bloodshot eyes lifted to meet hers, glistening with unshed tears that tugged at the heartstrings of anyone who saw him.

The sight of Julian Mercer like this made Claire Dawson feel an unexpected pang of guilt, as though she had committed some unforgivable sin.

His face was achingly pure, the kind of beauty that belonged in Renaissance paintings. The tears clinging to his lashes only amplified his delicate, almost fragile aura—like a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering.