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A Reborn Bride Pearl Emerging from Dust novel Chapter 915

Calliope headed to the bar, following the server’s directions.

She spotted Nigel Howell waiting for her at the counter.

“So you’re the one who wanted to see me?” she asked as she approached.

She hadn’t seen Nigel in quite a while—long enough that he’d almost slipped her mind. This unexpected invitation caught her off guard.

After she’d come back to life, she had saved Nigel without fanfare and, this time, made sure Lisette never got the chance to pretend she was the one who’d rescued him.

Since then, Nigel had sent her gifts on a few occasions, but she returned most of them, intentionally keeping him at arm’s length.

Helping him had been a spur-of-the-moment decision; she had no intention of getting mixed up in his affairs, especially because Silas considered Nigel a rival.

She was very clear where her loyalties stood: she would never be friends with Nigel Howell.

“That’s right,” Nigel said, pushing a cocktail across the bar toward her. “Made it myself. Care for a taste?”

Calliope eyed the drink, then took a tentative sip. “Not bad.”

“Isn’t it? I thought it turned out pretty well,” he replied, flashing a self-assured smile.

“So, why did you ask me here?” Calliope sat down, watching him with a reserved suspicion.

Nigel leaned in a little. “I heard you were in town, thought I’d catch up. What, I can’t buy you a drink?”

But before she could turn away, Nigel abruptly reached out, gripping her wrist.

“What’s this supposed to be, Mr. Howell?” Calliope’s tone turned glacial as she twisted, testing his hold.

They weren’t close, and his gesture already bordered on disrespect.

“I just want to talk, that’s all. No need to rush off,” Nigel insisted, his grip firm but not painful. “Ms. Jewell, I’m only trying to help.”

“I’m not convinced you are.”

Her expression went cold. Without warning, she whipped her hand free and launched a lightning-quick strike. Nigel, still perched on his barstool, blocked her effortlessly, and suddenly they were trading rapid-fire blocks and strikes in a seated, silent hand-to-hand skirmish.

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