The Triplets My Ex Never Knew About novel Chapter 162

Chapter 162: Chapter 162: Mr. Sloan Wants to Remarry Me?

Estelle was speechless.

Everyone: "?"

Liam Sloan was completely stunned. He seemed to think he had misheard. "Huh? Wha...?"

’Zane Grant wasn’t wrong when he called him love-struck. If this isn’t being completely smitten, what is?!’

The manager’s gaze toward Estelle Lockwood shifted from shocked disbelief to concern, and finally to admiration, all in the span of three short seconds.

’She had thought Mrs. Sloan was out of favor, but who would have guessed she had Mr. Sloan wrapped so tightly around her finger!’

After Nathaniel Sloan finished speaking, the entire private room fell into a dead silence. No one dared to utter a word.

As he spoke, he stared at Estelle Lockwood without blinking, his eyes filled with an affection so deep you could drown in it.

Estelle Lockwood suddenly realized that given Nathaniel Sloan’s status and position, he had no need to say such conciliatory, ingratiating words.

When Nathaniel Sloan had arrived, everyone thought she was surely done for.

Her status couldn’t compare to Nathaniel Sloan’s, nor her standing to the Sloan Family’s. Yet she had gone behind his back to party at a club. Caught red-handed by her husband, she was expected to either beg pitifully or break down in tears.

In short, in everyone’s mind, things would definitely not end well for Estelle Lockwood tonight.

But Nathaniel Sloan did none of that. He gave no one the opportunity to mock Estelle Lockwood.

Realizing this, Estelle Lockwood pressed her lips together.

Penelope Sullivan’s eyes darted about. "Manager, put today’s bill on my tab. Let’s all clear out, shall we? It’s just a little spat between husband and wife. Why is everyone standing around gawking?"

Liam Sloan immediately snapped back to his senses. "Right, right! You two have fun!"

The manager, proving how sharp he was, immediately shot a look at the top hosts in the room. In an instant, everyone filed out, leaving only Nathaniel Sloan and Estelle Lockwood behind.

As silence fell, Estelle Lockwood found herself feeling surprisingly uncomfortable being alone with him.

Nathaniel Sloan, however, slowly raised a wine glass. "Mrs. Sloan wishes to drink? I’ll drink with you."

He placed the glass in Estelle Lockwood’s hand.

Estelle Lockwood pursed her lips, remembering Mr. Lynch’s words—to test him, find his limits, and make him back off.

But now, Estelle Lockwood didn’t know what to say.

She pressed her lips together slightly. "I don’t feel like drinking anymore."

Nathaniel Sloan raised an eyebrow, swirling the wine in his glass. "You don’t feel like it anymore? This wine is actually quite good."

Estelle Lockwood looked him straight in the eye. "What are you really doing here?"

’There’s no one else here now. You can tell the truth, can’t you?’

A brief flicker of emotion passed through Nathaniel Sloan’s eyes before he nodded. "I told you. I’m here to learn how to serve people."

Estelle Lockwood’s throat tightened, and she looked away. "Nathaniel Sloan, I’m not joking with you."

"I’m not joking with you, either," Nathaniel Sloan said, his tone calm and unhurried. "Estelle Lockwood, you don’t trust me."

Estelle Lockwood froze.

Nathaniel Sloan’s gaze was gentle, yet it carried an unspoken pressure. "You’re testing me because you don’t trust me."

Estelle Lockwood pressed her lips together tightly and turned her head away. Then, a faint smile touched her lips. "So what if I don’t trust you? Are you making a fuss about this, Mr. Sloan, because you want to remarry me?"

A faint smile on his face, Nathaniel Sloan admitted it frankly. "Yes."

Estelle Lockwood rested her chin on her hand, feigning a thoughtful expression. "Is that so."

Nathaniel Sloan asked, "How was my performance today?"

Estelle Lockwood’s eyes darted. She suddenly stood up, leaving him with a meaningful smile. "You’ll find out in a moment, Mr. Sloan."

Liam Sloan had been standing outside the room, eavesdropping. As he listened, the door suddenly swung open, and he stumbled forward stiffly. "Oof, my bad..."

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