She Left She Thrived She’s Worth Billions novel Chapter 1033

"You!" Elara glared at Melanie, completely infuriated.

"Now, now, Ms. Royce, that's not quite right. Women are supposed to rely on men," Alistair interjected. He draped his arm around Elara's waist, his wandering hand sliding lower in a blatant, sleazy caress.

Discomfort flashed across Elara's face.

But she kept her smile plastered on.

Melanie could easily tell she was putting on a brave front for her and Preston's benefit.

"Exactly. At least my fiancé adores me. He wouldn't kill my family and then flat-out deny it."

"Huh? Who killed whose family?"

Alistair had completely missed the context of her venomous little remark.

But then again, the barb hadn't been meant for him anyway.

It was meant entirely for Melanie and Preston.

Specifically, Melanie.

Watching the smile slowly fade from Melanie's face, Elara smirked, a vicious sense of satisfaction washing over her.

If she was miserable, there was no way in hell she'd let Melanie be happy!

Alistair couldn't help but throw a few more compliments Melanie's way, eyeing her with a blatantly lecherous gaze.

But Preston stood right there by her side. His suffocating aura was impossible to ignore, and a single, chilling glare from him sent a shiver straight down Alistair's spine.

Knowing when to fold, he cut the conversation short and dragged Elara away.

The air left behind between Melanie and Preston grew heavy, thick with a sudden, suffocating tension.

Preston parted his lips to speak, but no words came out.

Right now, no matter how much he tried to explain, he had zero concrete evidence to prove that her mother's death had nothing to do with Stellaris PharmaTech or the Whitmore family.

Anything he said would only sound like a desperate excuse.

Melanie stared into his deep, somber eyes.

They were usually unreadable, hiding his thoughts beneath a calm, fathomless surface.

He rattled off a rapid stream of words, but she didn't catch a single syllable. She turned back to Preston with a helpless, wry smile.

Reading the silent plea for help in her gaze, he reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of windblown hair behind her ear before translating.

"He works here at Sterling Sands. They only allow five couples to dance under the statue at a time. This round is full, so we'll have to wait for the next one."

"Oh, I see!"

She nodded, her gaze drifting back to the gracefully spinning dancers.

"What kind of dance is that?"

"It's a traditional waltz unique to the island."

"It looks beautiful, but I don't know the steps."

She looked up at him, a hint of playful challenge in her eyes.

Illuminated by the warm glow of the surrounding bonfires, Preston's dark eyes seemed to ignite with an undeniable, simmering heat.

"Don't worry. I'll teach you."