His Hidden Family My Ruined Marriage (Liana) novel Chapter 233

Chapter 233 The Ripped Veil

Inside the dressing room, Liana whispered, “No need to alter it. There are two wedding dresses.”

“I know there are two. But that one isn’t suitable for you. Yann replied with professional seriousness, his attention still fixed on her waistline.

His words caught her off guard. After a few seconds, she murmured, “I know the other one is for Anya.”

Yann looked up, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. “Mrs. Locke, perhaps you are misunderstanding something?”

“Am I?” she countered softly.

He was silent for a moment before returning his gaze to her waist. “Let’s add about three-quarters of an inch here.”

“That much?” his apprentice asked, oblivious to the underlying tension.

“I’m worried it’ll grow again,” Yann replied.

“Er… Mrs. Locke could perhaps eat a little less?” the apprentice suggested.

Yann shot her a look that said just do as you’re told.

The apprentice promptly closed her mouth and got to work.

Liana, however, glanced nervously toward the door and whispered, “Has Elian left?”

“Did you need something, Mrs. Locke?”

No sooner had she asked than Elian’s voice came from the doorway.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning casually against the frame, his eyes fixed on her.

Yann sighed in exasperation. “I once knew a couple,” he began, adjusting a pin. “The husband was utterly devoted to the wife, but he was too stubborn to admit it. They only married after their child was four or five. The years they spent apart, they were both miserable.”

Liana grasped the implied meaning.

Elian, however, responded coolly, “Don’t overestimate me. I’m certainly not worthy of Ms. Keane bearing my child.”

Yann turned to stare at Elian, disbelief written on his face. Are you out of your mind?

Elian simply leveled a cold, accusatory glare at Liana, as if he were the one who had suffered a grievous insult.

tension in Liana. She lifted her chin slightly. “Good. Remember that.”

Elian said, his voice dropping. But you should remember what Yann just said. That kid was a few years old to get married-and before that, they were miserable for

her in the wedding gown, his expression darkening by the second. He looked ready to commit murder.

“Was that the point I was making?” Yann asked, turning fully to face Elian, questioning his own narrative.

“Wasn’t it?” Elian shot back. Then, hearing footsteps, he glanced toward the door.

“Elian. is my gown ready yet?” Anya’s cheerful voice floated in as she entered, holding up her own dress.

She glided to his side, her hand naturally coming to rest on his arm as she leaned against him to peer into the room. “I might have indulged a bit lately, gained a few pounds. I’ll diet, promise! How about you, Liana?”

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