Janetta was wearing a flowy, pale yellow dress paired with matching flats.
Probably because she was a celebrity, she had managed to stay incredibly thin despite the pregnancy.
Unless you were staring directly at her stomach, you would never guess she was already six months along.
Compared to Helena's own miserable situation, Janetta was clearly living a pampered, stress-free life.
Helena didn't say a word.
The dining table was a massive circular setup.
Helena was seated directly beside Sebastian.
Beau naturally tried to guide Janetta into the empty seat on Sebastian's other side.
Meanwhile, Beau took the seat directly across from Helena.
Helena raised an eyebrow, fully aware that Beau was doing this on purpose to instigate.
But on the outside, she remained a perfect, unbothered statue.
"Sorry for being late today. My flight got delayed," Beau said, smoothly breaking the ice. "I'll take three shots as a penalty."
He poured himself a drink and knocked it back effortlessly.
In the past, Sebastian would have definitely poured a glass to join his best friend.
But today, he just sat there like a block of ice.
Beau looked at him, genuinely surprised. "You're not drinking?"
"No. My wife hates the smell of alcohol," Sebastian replied bluntly.
The "wife" he was referring to was obviously Helena, not Janetta.
Someone like Janetta, who spent half her life schmoozing at elite Hollywood parties, was completely immune to the smell of booze and smoke.
But Helena genuinely despised it.
Not that it had ever stopped Sebastian from chain-smoking and drinking whenever he wanted in front of her before.
He had never given a damn about her boundaries.
Hearing him suddenly act like the perfect husband didn't touch her heart in the slightest.
Because she knew exactly what this was—a theatrical performance directed solely at Janetta.
Since Janetta was sitting right there.
Predictably, Helena watched the color completely drain from Janetta's face.
The sheer humiliation was written all over her features.

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