The Wife He Dumped, The Queen She Returned As novel Chapter 309

The private room fell dead silent.

Everyone cautiously glanced at Isabella.

Isabella turned her head, offering a faint smile. "Why has everyone stopped talking?"

Heads quickly lowered as people pretended nothing had happened, scrambling to find random topics to discuss with their neighbors.

Isabella picked up the glass in front of her, took a slow sip, and set it back down.

"Keep enjoying yourselves. I'm going to head out too."

She stood up, and her assistant hurriedly followed suit.

"Alright, alright, Isabella. Have a safe trip back."

"Thank you for the treats, Isabella, they were delicious..."

"I'm glad you liked them."

Isabella smiled and nodded. Turning on her heel, she walked out with an unhurried pace and perfect posture, as if absolutely nothing had transpired.

It wasn't until the door to the private room clicked shut again that the people inside finally let out a collective breath.

"Oh my god, what just happened? That was terrifying."

"Didn't Mr. Shaw come here tonight for Isabella? Why did he talk to her like that?"

"I practically stopped breathing..."

Lydia suddenly chimed in. "Actually, I think Mr. Shaw came for Ms. Reed."

"Chloe?" someone frowned. "I mean, she's impressive and all, but how could she ever compare to Isabella?"

The person speaking lowered their voice, treating it like an unspoken universal truth.

After all, if not for the Sterling Interpretation Institute, none of them would ever have the right to even breathe the same air as Isabella.

The Sylvain family she was born into was true European old money. Their staggering wealth was the least of it; what really mattered was their terrifying power and influence stretching across every sector.

Lydia wasn't convinced. "Mr. Shaw is incredible on his own. Who he likes is what matters most!"

Outside the private room, a tall figure stood quietly, taking in every word of the gossip inside.

Her assistant stole a glance at Isabella's face, her anxiety spiking.

Isabella turned, her expression blank. "Let's go."

...

"Are you close with Isabella?" Chloe asked suddenly.

"You could say that," Quentin replied.

"Of course I do."

"Isabella is Master Sylvain's adopted daughter."

"Adopted daughter?"

"Yeah." Quentin's profile looked sharp in the passing light. "So, I've run into her a few times over the holidays. That's it."

"Oh." Chloe grew thoughtful, unable to stop her mind from drifting to Elara.

Her heart inexplicably felt a pang of sorrow.

The rest of the drive was silent.

When Quentin finally parked the car, Chloe was looking down to unbuckle her seatbelt.

He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. "Come with me."

Chloe looked up at him, her fingers pausing on the buckle.

"For what?"

"I learned a new physical therapy technique. You're going to be my model."

Chloe lowered her eyes. "Sorry, I don't have time. I appreciate the thought, but I've tried all these methods before, and I really don't want to waste your time."