Next Man, Better Plan novel Chapter 92

Jonathan said calmly, "Gotta go."

The line went dead, leaving Tobias staring into space for a long moment.

Someone teased him, "What's wrong, Tobias? You look like you've seen a ghost after that call. Did your girlfriend run off with someone else?"

A wave of laughter filled the room.

Tobias shot the speaker a glare and retorted, "Shut up. Don't ruin my reputation. What girlfriend? It's Jonathan. Jonathan has a wife."

His words silenced the entire room. The shock was comparable to witnessing a comet strike the Earth.

Yves sidled over, eager for gossip. "For real?"

"It must be. When has Jonathan ever joked about something like this?"

Tobias leaned back on the sofa, crossing his legs with a roguish air. "His wife is at home cooking him a steak. He's so damn smug about it, I bet his nose is in the air right now."

"So he's got a woman hidden away? And he won't even bring her out for us to meet?"

"Who do you think you are? You think Jonathan's wife is someone you can just meet whenever you please?"

Tobias' bluntness was familiar to everyone in their circle, so no one took it personally.

Yves rolled his eyes and, carrying his drink, approached Quennel.

"Jonathan is married. How bizarre."

Quennel showed no reaction, simply continuing to drink his wine.

"To be a match for the Vasquez family, his wife must come from an impressive background. I wonder which family she's from. How has there not been a single whisper about this?"

The Vasquez family was at the apex of their social circle.

Ironhold Investment Group was a titan among titans, controlling a majority of the capital in Veridian.

Quennel had personally taught Stephanie how to cook a steak.

It was a few days after she had moved into the Gonzalez family home. She must have still been hungry after dinner, because Quennel found her in the kitchen late at night, secretly eating instant food.

His heart had ached for her. He knew she felt awkward and reserved in her new home, so he had gently guided her hands and taught her how to pan-sear a steak.

The dead memory suddenly flooded his mind, and Quennel found it hard to breathe.

"Quennel, what's wrong?" Yves noticed he'd been quiet for a while, clearly lost in thought. "You've been spacing out a lot these past couple of days. What's on your mind?"

Quennel pulled himself together. "Just thinking about a project at the company."

"You're such a workaholic. If your fiancée knew how dedicated you are to her father's company, she'd be head over heels for you! By the way, when are you two planning on having kids?"

Quennel's gaze darkened. "We're not thinking about kids right now. She's still young—we'll consider it down the road."