Free Web NovelChapter 206: At the club
The old woman tilted her head slightly.
"I asked if you want something else," she repeated with a frown.
Emily stepped forward immediately.
"No. We’re done here," she said firmly, grabbing Lyvana’s arm. "Let’s go."
They left the shop, crossing the street quickly to head back to the parked car. Marco was already holding the door open for them.
"That woman is crazy," Emily said the second she climbed inside, fastening her seatbelt with a sharp tug. "Completely crazy."
Lyvana just smiled, carefully placing the black candle and the silver vial onto her lap. "Probably."
Emily glanced at her. "I hope her weird potion works."
Lyvana only smiled, but inside, she wasn’t laughing.
The old woman’s words kept replaying in her mind.
You’ve seen death.
The way she had said it, hadn’t seemed fake.
Lyvana looked down at the silver liquid resting in her hand.
A strange feeling settled in her stomach. Maybe Emily was right. Maybe the woman was just another eccentric shopkeeper trying to sell expensive nonsense.
But a small part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that the old woman had seen something. Because she was right. She had indeed seen death.
Marco pulled the car up to the private helipad. The helicopter was already waiting.
A short time later, they were flying over the ocean toward the private island.
Neither of them talked much during the flight.
Lyvana spent most of the journey staring at the silver vial in her hand. ƒreewebɳovel.com
By the time they landed, the sun was beginning to sink toward the horizon.
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Susan sat at the table with Madara, her friend in the quiet, private lounge of the social club.
She swirled the glass of wine in her hand.
"Yes, I feel so humiliated, Madara," she sighed, her voice tight with genuine distress.
Madara reached across the table and held her hand, offering a comforting squeeze.
"Why worry about what you can’t change? I know an amazing girl from a wealthy family who would love to be with your son. I think if he goes to the CEO’s gala with her, he will save face."
Susan looked up, a glimmer of hope finally breaking through her bleak expression. "Really? Who is she? Is it one of the top families?"
"Yes. And I know for sure..." Madara started.
"Well, well, well, I’m surprised to see you here, Susan," a sharp, mocking voice interrupted.
The two women froze as Angelina stepped into view. She was the head of the city’s most elite charity circle and a notorious gossip. she was wearing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
"Given the... colorful rumors floating around your family name lately, Susan," Angelina said, smoothing down her designer dress, "I half expected you to be hiding away at home. What a pleasant surprise."
Susan’s grip on her wine glass tightened, but she forced her chin up, smoothing her expression into a look that says, I don’t care.
"Angelina, I didn’t realize the club’s standards had dropped so low that they were letting just anyone wander into the private lounge."
Angelina let out a soft, melodic laugh. She pulled out the empty chair at the end of their table and sat down without being invited.
"Oh, Susan, always so sharp," she said, waving a manicured hand dismissively. "But let’s not pretend we haven’t all heard the whispers. Your poor son. To be publicly dumped by his own fiancée? And for a man whose wealth makes the Vaughn money look like pennies? The humiliation must be unbearable. Naturally, I’ve been doing my best to squash the rumors, but people do talk."
"People gossip when they have nothing of substance in their own lives, Angelina. It was a mutual disagreement, nothing more."
"Of course it was. Which is why I’m sure you’re eager to show everyone that your family is perfectly fine. It’s just such a shame, isn’t it? To be replaced so quickly by someone with real power. I suppose we’ll all see how long it takes your son to recover from being left in the dust."
Susan smiled.
She slowly set her wine glass down on the table. "You seem unusually invested in my son’s personal life, Angelina. Tell me, is it concern? Or are you simply disappointed that none of your daughters managed to attract a man of that caliber? I mean we all know Beatrice eloped with a fisher boy."
A few women at the nearby table giggled.
Angelina’s expression tightened.
"Defensive, aren’t we?" she muttered.
"Not at all," Susan said. "I simply find it amusing when people gossip about others while conveniently forgetting the scandals in their own family."
She picked up her wine glass and took a small sip.
Just then, Clarisse walked into the room.
Susan looked up quickly. Her face turning red with anger. "What the hell are you doing here?" she shouted, forgetting to act polite in public.
"You paid for my membership, Susan," Clarisse said. "Have you forgotten?"
"What do you want?" Susan asked, trying to keep her voice down.
"I came to talk to you."
"We have nothing to talk about."
"Well, I have a lot to talk about. And would you rather I talked about it here?"
Susan’s face paled as she glanced at Angelina, the club’s biggest gossip.
She led Clarisse out of the main lounge and into a quiet, empty hallway.
"You have a lot of nerve coming here," Susan whispered harshly. "What do you want from me?"
"I still carry your grandchild."
"You insolent girl!" Susan snapped. "You are a whore! How do I know if it’s only my sons you have slept with?"
"Think whatever you want about me, Susan," Clarisse hissed, her voice dangerously low. "But a simple DNA test can prove that a Vaughn heir is growing inside me, so you can start treating me like family, because I am not going anywhere."
"You are nothing but a gold-digger looking for a payout," Susan spat. "I will destroy you before you ever see a single dime of the Vaughn fortune."
"Which fortune? Everything you have is what you stole from Lyvana."
