She continued softly, “Perhaps I can help. I know an author on the same platform as ‘Field of Lari,’ and he mentioned they’re acquainted. I could ask him to arrange a private meeting for you.”
Finley’s expression finally shifted. “Really?”
Honora nodded. “Mhm. If you need me to, I can ask.”
A flicker of hope lit up Finley’s eyes. “Please, Honora. I’d appreciate that.”
“Finley, you don’t have to be so formal with me,” she said with a gentle smile.
Finley’s own smile returned. Honora was so kind and thoughtful. How could Larissa possibly claim that this sweet girl had hired men to assault her? It was nothing more than a malicious attempt to drive a wedge between them.
Leopold chimed in from the side, his tone laced with sarcasm. “See, Finley? Honora cares about you so much. Don’t you think you owe her an explanation instead of making her worry?”
Finley knew exactly what Leopold was implying. He shot his brother a complex look before saying, “There are… complications with my leg. I can’t explain the full situation just yet.”
Leopold snorted. “What complications could there be? It was obviously Larissa, wasn’t it?”
Finley remained silent, but his silence was as good as a confession to Leopold.
“I don’t know what kind of hold she has on you,” Leopold said, exasperated. “She crippled you, and you’re still too scared to retaliate. Well, if you’re afraid of her, I’m not. I’ll deal with her tonight!”
Finley frowned, his voice a low warning. “Don’t do anything reckless unless you’re absolutely sure of it. This could backfire on you spectacularly.”
Her voice trembled on the verge of tears.
Given her standing, the thought that she could have been duped with a counterfeit had never even crossed her mind. But now, seeing Honora brazenly wearing the exact same dress, she felt a sickening certainty that she had ruined everything.
Neville squeezed her hand. “Sapphira, stay calm.”
Nearby, Vivica spotted Leopold and Honora. She deliberately strolled over to Sapphira. “My, my, Sapphira, this party is for your daughter. Why the long face?”
Sapphira’s gentle features hardened with disgust. She lowered her voice, her words sharp. “Vivica, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

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