Claimed by the Crown Heir novel Chapter 25

Vanessa stiffened for a second before letting out a forced, casual laugh. "Nothing gets past you, does it? We broke up."

"What do you mean?" Seraphina frowned deeply. "You built him up from nothing. Now that he's successful, he just kicks you to the curb?"

"I dumped him."

She recounted how Lucas had cheated on her with his young assistant, her tone as eerily calm as if she were gossiping about a stranger.

But Seraphina knew her better than anyone. Beneath that breezy, stoic exterior was a shattered, bleeding heart.

"That absolute bastard. How dare he do this to you! I'm going to kill him!"

Seraphina exploded like a lit fuse, startling the other oblivious patrons into turning their heads.

"Babe, keep it down!" Vanessa frantically pulled her back into her seat and shoved a warm coffee cup into her hands. "Do you want the whole club to know I got cheated on?"

"That jerk! You spent three years playing house for him, paving his way, pulling in resources, and helping him take his company public! And what does he do? He sneaks around with his assistant right under your nose! Did a dog eat his conscience?"

Seraphina's chest heaved with fury, the fire in her eyes burning even brighter. She grabbed Vanessa's hand, feeling the rough calluses on her palms, and her eyes welled up with sympathetic tears. "You are the prized daughter of the Grant family! You never had to lift a finger in your life. When have you ever been subjected to something like this?"

"You know I'm not the type to just swallow my pride. So, before I came back to Sterling City, I left him a little parting gift."

Even after hearing what Vanessa had done, Seraphina wasn't satisfied.

"You let him off too easy!"

Lucas was definitely suffering now. The internal and external chaos she left behind would keep him drowning in damage control for quite a while.

Vanessa's gaze casually swept across the lounge area on the other side of the club, suddenly freezing in place.

A tall, imposing figure caught her eye. The sharp, tailored lines of his dark suit accentuated his broad shoulders and lean back. Standing in profile, he was raising a hand to murmur something to the person beside him, the platinum watch on his wrist catching a cold glint under the ambient light.

She squinted, staring at him intently. There was something overwhelmingly familiar about his silhouette. Her chest tightened, her fingers curling instinctively, and her breathing slowed to a halt before she hurriedly yanked her gaze away.

When she finally gathered the courage to look back, the man was completely gone.

Had her eyes played a trick on her?

Alistair Howard lived in Savannah. There was no way he would be in Sterling City.

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