Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 284

Vivienne blinked in surprise and looked up.

Cyril stood there, his eyes half-lidded, his dark pupils catching the shimmering, multi-colored lights of the chandelier.

"Yes! Thirty, thirty-one! Julian beat Alaric by one flower! Haha, thank you so much, Cyril!"

Bianca counted the haul with explosive enthusiasm, looking more ecstatic than if she had won the game herself.

Cyril calmly retracted his gaze from Vivienne and turned to Bianca, his eyes soft and gentle. "Don't mention it. I'm just passing them along."

With that, he turned on his heel, not sparing anyone another glance.

The watching crowd of girls was jolted out of their stupor and instantly parted to make way.

A faint smile touched Cyril's lips. "Thank you," he said, offering a slight nod before walking straight toward the central circle, never looking back.

The girls stared at his retreating back, their eyes wide with utter shock at how breathtakingly handsome he was.

"How can someone look that good?"

Among the three young masters of the Ravenshire family, Alaric was noble and aloof, radiating an untouchable aura like a pristine, cold moon. Julian was wild and unbridled, tearing through the world like a beast off its leash. But Cyril was entirely different. Beyond his gentle, easygoing demeanor, his face was his deadliest, most devastating weapon.

With a face like that, even if Cyril gunned down an entire family, the moment he cried innocence in court, legions of people would line up to violently defend his honor.

Watching the infatuated stares of the crowd, Vivienne slowly reigned in her own reeling thoughts.

Cyril's early survival conditions were notoriously brutal. He had to bury his psychopathic, rabid-dog tendencies deep down, so the narrative compensated by granting him a face that could bewitch anyone. Thankfully, she was immune. Because with the look he had just given her, anyone else would have undoubtedly handed over the entire flower basket right on the spot.

How a guy looked at another guy was entirely different from how a girl looked at him.

Julian's eyes turned icy. He shot a disdainful side-eye at Vivienne. "Who needs his charity? Toss the flowers that absolute bastard just dropped in."

Vivienne rolled her eyes and raised an eyebrow at Julian. "What? Are you trying to get kicked out of the family?"

Julian, "..."

Vivienne shoved the basket forcefully into his arms, speaking with the weary wisdom of someone much older. "Julian, a win is a win, and a loss is a loss. If you want to win, you can't be squeamish about the methods. Trying to have it both ways guarantees you'll walk away with absolutely nothing."

Something flickered in Julian's eyes, and he wrapped both hands firmly around the basket.

"Alright, the game was a smashing success, and the rest is on you. I'm exhausted! I need to go crash."

Inside the banquet's inner circle.

Matriarch Cavanaugh watched Julian being treated like absolute royalty. Swarmed by a laughing crowd of teenagers teasing him about being the princess, Julian fired back rapid, sarcastic insults, the entire group dissolving into easy, joyous laughter.

After a long, contemplative silence, the matriarch stood up and approached Caspian. "Caspian, might I have a word with you in private?"

Caspian had been in the middle of a conversation with Edmund Blackthorne. At her request, he immediately stood and shot Cedric a decisive look.

Cedric understood instantly, stepping forward. "Matriarch, please follow me."

Edmund glanced between the two, a sly smile touching his lips as he addressed the matriarch. "Congratulations, Matriarch. Julian certainly knows how to charm a crowd."

The matriarch shot a pointed look at Caspian. "You're congratulating the wrong person, Mr. Blackthorne." With that, she turned to Cedric. "Lead the way."

"That old woman..." Edmund shook his head, pointing at her retreating back. "How is your in-law still this insufferable?"

Caspian didn't utter a word in response.

Edmund's expression softened slightly. "Caspian, marriage is a tricky business. Forge a good union, and you become a unified front. Forge a bad one, and you end up worse than blood enemies. Look at the Cavanaughs. Look at the Whitmores. Tell me I'm wrong."