Quentin lightly tapped his long fingers against the armrest of the sofa, a flicker of dark, predatory amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Why don't you take a wild guess?"
His tone was soft, yet dripping with the mockery of a cat toying with a trapped mouse.
Parrish clamped his lips together, his brows locked in a vicious knot.
He knew his older brother entirely too well. Quentin was always an emotionless iceberg; for him to display this kind of sinister amusement meant nothing good.
A suffocating dread began pressing down on his chest, making it difficult to breathe.
But on second thought, the idea was utterly absurd.
That betrothal happened over twenty years ago. The current Bonnie Hayes and Quentin Vance existed in completely different stratospheres.
Moreover, Quentin had lived abroad for two decades and had only recently returned. How could he possibly have crossed paths with Bonnie?
It absolutely couldn't be her.
Parrish aggressively repeated the denial in his head.
The crushing anxiety in his chest slowly began to recede.
Sitting nearby, Helena watched the two brothers clash with a cold eye. The sight soured her mood.
She despised Quentin's arrogant, untouchable demeanor, and it disgusted her even more to see Parrish so easily led by his nose.
"Parrish."
Helena's voice cut through the tension, deliberately adopting a tone of gentle reproof. "Since your brother is already married, and to an arrangement made so long ago, you really ought to follow his example. Hurry up and marry Vivian."
This push only irritated Parrish further. "Mom, aren't we already engaged?"
But Helena refused to let it go. "So when will you officially register the marriage? When is the actual ceremony? Give me a solid timeline. Don't make your father and me wait too long."
Parrish's eyelid twitched. He turned his head to look at Vivian.


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