She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 257

In the end, they remained at their separate tables.

The cuisine here was undeniably spectacular.

Jocelyn ate until her little tummy was perfectly round.

Halfway through the meal, she predictably needed to use the bathroom.

The little girl shyly tugged on her aunt's sleeve, looking up with her big, innocent eyes. "Auntie, I need to go potty. Can you take me?"

Jocelyn was young, but she was incredibly well-behaved.

Sweet and hopelessly adorable.

Joyce wiped the girl's sticky little hands and led her to the restroom. She carefully sanitized the toilet seat with an alcohol wipe before lifting her up. She stood right outside the stall door, listening to the soft grunts coming from inside. Just hearing those little noises filled Joyce's heart with an overwhelming sense of happiness.

She loved Jocelyn to pieces.

She loved her brother fiercely.

She loved their little family.

The awkward encounter in the dining room had been a minor annoyance, but she wasn't going to let it ruin her night. She figured she had two choices: either quit the tutoring gig entirely or establish a strictly professional, impenetrable boundary with Mr. Sanford. The absolute last thing she wanted was to be branded a homewrecker. While she was lost in thought, the restroom door suddenly swung open.

Diana Dayne walked in.

Dressed in her immaculate designer suit, the earlier facade of polite elegance had completely vanished, replaced by an arrogant, razor-sharp glare. "I know exactly who you are. The second Annie got transferred to your school, you jumped at the chance to slither your way into Luther's mansion as a 'tutor'! You probably don't even realize why he's giving you the time of day, do you? Do yourself a favor and look up the former Mrs. Sanford, Hilda. You happen to look quite a bit like her, though you entirely lack her class. There are plenty of women like you floating around. Luther even keeps one stashed at his corporate office named Summer Shaw—she's about a six out of ten match. You and her? You're both just little collectibles to him. Convenient little tools a man uses to pass the time when he's bored. If you actually start believing you mean something to him, you're going to get your heart completely shattered. Ms. Croix, if I were you, I'd milk him for whatever cash you can get and make a clean exit. Luther is never going to marry someone as painfully average as you. His standards are astronomical. He prefers artists. And I am the fiancée his family personally selected for him. You should consider yourself incredibly lucky that I'm being this generous with you."

It was such a blatant, aggressive attack that Joyce could no longer simply smile and nod.

Joyce slowly turned on the faucet.

The water ran in a quiet, steady stream.

She took a moment to compose her thoughts before speaking.

"I genuinely don't understand why you felt the need to say any of that to me."

"You're not just insulting me."

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