Next Man, Better Plan novel Chapter 12

But the girl who had endured so much without ever crying in front of him was now shedding tears.

Quennel’s large hand gently rested on her shoulder.

He couldn't bring himself to criticize her anymore, speaking softly instead. “Stephanie, I know you care about me, that you love me. But bullying Victoria… it’s not dignified. Whatever you’re unhappy about, can we talk about it at home tonight? Please?”

Stephanie flinched as if electrocuted and slapped his hand away.

“Victoria has no shame,” she said coldly. “Why should I care about dignity?”

Quennel tried to say more, but Stephanie wasn't listening.

“We just don't see the world the same way. Not for a long time.”

With that, she pushed the door open and walked out without a backward glance.

A cool draft from the hallway slipped through the open door, chilling Quennel's face.

He instinctively reached out to grab her, but he was a moment too late, and could only watch her walk away.

…

Stephanie walked down the long corridor to another private room.

The door was ajar, and she went straight in, heading for the restroom.

Their families had always been so close.

When her father had arranged the engagement, he could never have imagined that his precious daughter would one day be so deeply hurt by Quennel.

Stephanie pulled two paper towels from the dispenser, dabbing at the corners of her eyes and forcing back the sting of tears.

What was there to cry about? A two-timing jerk wasn't worth it.

Her life was meant for more than just a man.

Her red-rimmed eyes widened in shock. The representative from Ironhold Investment Group?

It was Jonathan.

Her expression was one of pure astonishment.

As if sensing her presence, Jonathan looked up, and their eyes met.

His gaze was intense. His handsome face featured strong, defined features—a chiseled, almost severe look, yet the single beauty mark under his left eye gave him an alluring, almost dangerous charm.

He slowly sat up, a crumpled cigarette still pinched between his fingers.

As Stephanie took a seat on the sofa opposite him, his gaze flickered over her.

His voice was low and magnetic, as intimate as a lover’s whisper. “Do you hate me? Why not sit beside me?”