Second Chance His Unending Love (Calista Hartwell) novel Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Killian understood her threat instantly, shooting Stephanie a sharp, urgent look.

He couldn’t let this opportunity slip away-not when the Sullivan alliance was within reach.

“Mom, go sit at the next booth. We’ll call you when we’re done.”

“Of course, of course! Whatever makes Ms. Sullivan happy!” Stephanie hurried out of the booth, her tail tucked between her legs.

Fiona snorted, her tone dripping with disdain. “I came alone and expected the same courtesy. Is that too much to ask? Don’t play the victim with your mother-you were the ones who lacked basic manners.”

Her sharp retort deflated Stephanie, leaving her dejected.

For years, she’d bullied Calista and Amanda—the two women had been gentle and compliant, spoiling her into being overbearing.

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Now, as she faced someone more assertive, her arrogance crumbled completely.

The cockiness she’d shown Calista moments ago vanished, replaced by abject defeat.

Killian took the chance to study Fiona, his mind

churning: no wonder she was still single-her temper was

atrocious.

Calista had never dared speak to his mother like that— she’d been docile and obedient.

In his mind, Fiona must have been spoiled rotten by her

parents.

A personality flaw, he decided—nothing he couldn’t overlook for the sake of the alliance.

Suppressing his discomfort, Killian forced a conciliatory smile. “You’re right-we should have been more

considerate.”

“So, did you divorce your ex-wife because she couldn’t get along with your mother?”

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Fiona’s gaze cut through him like a laser, searching for any flicker of deceit.

Killian’s eyes drifted unconsciously toward Calista’s booth before he schooled his expression.

After a moment, he spoke in a soft, seemingly regretful tone, “I don’t like speaking ill of my ex-wife in public. But since you asked, I’ll be honest-she was stubborn and petty, disrespectful to my mother, and unkind to my son. I had no choice but to divorce her.”

Fiona stared at him, her gaze piercing, until he felt a

flicker of unease.

Then she smiled, “I see.”

Eager to change the subject, Killian gestured to the table. “Ms. Sullivan, I ordered the restaurant’s specialties. Please, try them.”

Fiona frowned again, her patience wearing thin.

Her attitude had thrown Killian off balance, leaving him

on edge.

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“Mr. Frost, did you even ask for my opinion before ordering? You seem to live in your own world, never stopping to consider others. You have no idea what I like or dislike-and you didn’t bother to find out.

“This arrogance makes me doubt your story about the divorce. If I ever meet your ex-wife, I’ll be sure to ask her side of the story.”

Killian’s eyes widened in shock, his gaze darting nervously to Calista.

His heart raced as he feared she’d stand up and expose his

lies to Fiona.

He’d never expected this woman to be so sharp-so difficult to manipulate.

In contrast, Calista, also an heiress, had never been this demanding-she’d always obeyed his every wish.

But for Frost Group, for the project, Killian had to swallow his pride and endure.

“I’m sorry-it’s my mistake.”

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Then, he waved for a waiter, handing Fiona the menu patiently. “Ms. Sullivan, please.”

Fiona’s manicured fingers glided over the menu before she handed it back to the waiter.

Killian’s eyes lingered on her nails-long, polished, and impractical for anything more than signing documents.

Housework, cooking, coordinating clothes-basic wifely duties-would be impossible with nails like that. He didn’t expect her to do manual labor, but at least she should handle small tasks when the maid was away- cooking a simple meal, organizing the closet. Those were the basic responsibilities of a wife, weren’t they?

Fiona scrolled through her phone, seemingly aware of his stare but utterly indifferent.

After all, she’d come only to see the “extraordinary man”

her cousin had mentioned.

So far, he was indeed extraordinarily selfish.

Soon, Fiona’s truffle steak arrived.

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The pungent scent made Killian frown, his expression darkening.

He hated truffles-its aroma reminded him of gas.

How could they coexist if she loved something he found repulsive?

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