Betrayed by the Father Reborn in His Rival's Arms novel Chapter 360

"Is it really the same?"

His voice was dripping with seductive teasing.

The next second, his hand pressed firmly against her.

Their bodies intertwined.

-

When Madeline finally woke up, she felt impossibly refreshed, her body buzzing with newfound energy.

Glancing at the time, she realized she had slept in for hours. Quentin clearly hadn't had the heart to wake her.

She left the bedroom and wandered the villa looking for him.

She eventually spotted him sitting with Tristan York in a gorgeous classical pavilion, deep in conversation.

They were definitely discussing business.

The York family had been here for days, and Tristan was constantly looking for an opening to secure his deal. Madeline knew better than to interrupt.

She decided to explore on her own.

The area around the pavilion was decorated with elegant, vintage landscaping that perfectly complemented the estate's luxurious aesthetic.

The sprawling branches of ancient trees stretched out over the lake, looking like they were holding up the sky itself.

The entire world seemed suspended in absolute tranquility. The only sound was the faint ripple of waterbirds gliding across the surface.

The ultimate luxury of this place lay in its quiet, unassuming details.

Madeline hadn't actually taken the time to truly appreciate it yet.

She strolled casually down the path.

At the end of a wooden pier over the lake, several massive, pristine white yachts were docked, their teak decks immaculate.

There was also a row of sleek jet skis and hydroflight jetboards, though Madeline had no intention of trying those.

The water near the shore was crystal clear, revealing a mosaic of smooth pebbles and the occasional darting fish.

Madeline stood at the edge of the bank, staring down at the water.

It reminded her of the small pond in front of her grandmother's old place. It used to be teeming with little fish every summer.

Whenever she craved a snack, she would drag a small wooden stool to the edge of the pond and catch half a bucket of crawfish.

She'd scrub them clean with an old toothbrush, prep them, and cook them up with cucumber for a massive feast she'd share with Margaret.

The memory brought a sharp pang of sorrow. She missed her grandmother terribly.

But the dead could never be brought back to life.

Once they were gone, they were gone forever.

Just as she was drowning in her bittersweet nostalgia, a sickly sweet, grating voice shattered the silence from behind.

"You really have no shame, do you? Snatching my Lucius wasn't enough—you forced me to wait five years to become Mrs. Whitman. And now you're here trying to steal Penelope's fiancé. Why are you so obsessed with taking things that don't belong to you?"

That voice.