A Reborn Bride Pearl Emerging from Dust novel Chapter 921

Calliope hurried back to her room and grabbed the first aid kit.

“Callie…” Portia murmured groggily, blinking her eyes open to see her friend rushing around. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, go back to sleep,” Calliope said, gently tucking the blanket around Portia before slipping quietly out of the room.

“Callie, where are you off to?” Crispin called as he came in from the hallway.

“Oh, just something I need to handle,” Calliope replied briskly. “Crispin, whatever it is, let’s talk later, okay? I really don’t have time right now.”

“Sure,” Crispin said, watching her brisk walk with an amused smile. His sister, Portia, might not have a ton of special talents, but she did have an extraordinary gift for making friends.

Both of her best friends were truly exceptional—each more impressive than the last.

Especially Calliope. Crispin still couldn’t quite figure out how capable she really was. He’d once assumed she was just an ordinary girl, but the longer he spent around her, the more he was amazed by her resourcefulness and intellect. She was smart—frighteningly so—and seemed to know a little about everything.

Most impressive of all was her network. That private lounge earlier had been filled with the brightest talents in the world—every guest a household name in their field, a few even celebrated personalities with powerful backgrounds most could never dream of approaching.

Crispin knew regular people would never get near that kind of crowd. Even those from elite old-money families would find it nearly impossible. Yet Calliope had chatted and laughed with them as if she’d known them her whole life—like she was one of them.

That had been linked to one of their chief competitors, too, so when Nancy ended up signing with them, it gave the family a huge advantage.

Meanwhile, Calliope had no idea what was running through Crispin’s mind. First aid kit in hand, she hurried straight to Nigel’s room.

Inside, Damien and Leland were locked in a silent standoff, glaring daggers at each other. Every so often, one of them would snipe a quick remark and the other would shoot back just as sharply. Neither of them seemed remotely fond of the other.

“Ms. Jewell has rescued your Mr. Howell once before—this makes twice now,” Damien said icily, folding his arms across his chest. “So tell me, how do you intend to thank her?”

Leland shot him an impatient look. “What’s your rush? Does Mr. Howell seem remotely capable of saying thank you right now? And for the record, we sent her plenty of gifts last time, didn’t we? Mr. Howell may be decisive—cold, even—but he’s never been ungrateful.”