She Left She Thrived She’s Worth Billions novel Chapter 913

Daphne's eyes lit up at his response.

Out of the mountain of clothes Melanie had forced her to try on that afternoon, the five she had ultimately kept all leaned into that sophisticated, elegant aesthetic.

Which meant...

Everett actually liked what she was wearing tonight.

The corners of her lips curved up, completely out of her control.

Soon, the food began to arrive.

Being a high-end brasserie, the portions were more artistic than filling.

Even though they had ordered quite a few dishes, the spread barely looked like enough to satisfy two people.

Just as Everett opened his mouth to ask Melanie if they should order more, he caught her exchanging a loaded, seamless glance with Preston.

Preston smoothly pulled out his phone, stared at the screen for a second, and turned to her.

"Ms. Royce, there's a critical issue at the office that requires your immediate attention."

Melanie stood up instantly.

"I am so sorry, Everett, Daphne. I have to head back and handle this. You two go ahead and enjoy the meal! We'll have to do a proper double date another time."

With that, she grabbed Preston by the arm and swept out of the room.

The sudden departure sucked all the air out of the room. The atmosphere plummeted into something infinitely more awkward.

Daphne had already picked up her silverware, but she noticed Everett hadn't touched a thing. He just sat there, gripping his knife and fork, staring blankly at his plate.

"Everett, are you okay? Not a fan of French food?" Daphne asked, tilting her head.

She wasn't exactly a connoisseur either.

But Melanie had picked the place.

The draw wasn't really the food; it was the intoxicatingly romantic atmosphere.

It took Everett a long moment to snap out of his trance. "No... I'll eat anything," he murmured.

"Try this then! The steak is actually amazing, super tender. Or maybe I just don't know what real fine dining tastes like," she offered enthusiastically.

Following her lead, Everett sliced a piece of steak, put it in his mouth, and chewed. And chewed.

"Well? Is it good?" Daphne asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

With Preston.

Leaving him utterly alone with Daphne.

If Everett couldn't read the writing on the wall by now, he was a complete idiot.

Honestly, the warning bells had started ringing earlier that day when Melanie had tagged him in her social media feed, posting nothing but glamorous shots of Daphne.

She knew. She had figured out that he and Daphne had slept together.

And this whole elaborate charade was her way of playing matchmaker.

His mind was a tangled, agonizing mess.

He didn't want Daphne.

He wanted Melanie.

It had always been Melanie.

Everett set his knife and fork down, lowering his hands to his lap and curling them into tight, white-knuckled fists.

To him, Melanie was a blinding, intoxicating light, and he couldn't stop himself from drifting toward her orbit.