Chapter 167 He Hardly Merits Such Consideration
Corrine’s features settled into an expressionless mask as she delivered her response with glacial precision. “I have neither the time nor the inclination to entertain this conversation.”
As she pivoted to depart, Bruce’s fingers closed around her wrist with desperate urgency. “Corrine, I understand our separation wounded you deeply. I’ve promised to make amends; why won’t you grant me that opportunity?”
“You expect forgiveness to flow freely after a simple apology, as though nothing transpired?” Corrine raised her gaze, her eyes piercing Bruce’s facade like winter frost. Her crimson lips curved into an expression of calculated derision. “I’ve made myself clear–reconciliation between us remains an impossibility.”
Bruce’s grip tightened involuntarily, his voice acquiring an edge of frost. “So you’ve resolved to regard me as nothing more than a stranger.”
“What alternative did you envision?” A current of bitter mockery threaded through Corrine’s words. “Did you expect me to spiral into the depths of unrequited love, consumed by jealousy, only to unleash my accumulated bitterness upon Leah?”
Bruce’s features constricted at her pointed reference. “Direct any grievances toward me.
Leah remains blameless in this matter.”
Finding dark amusement in his declaration, Corrine wrenched her wrist free before turning away with decisive finality.
Bruce observed her retreating form as she glided into the inner sanctum, his brow furrowing in confusion.
This newfound intimacy between Corrine and the Seymour family perplexed him. How had she secured such privileged access to the inner banquet area?
While the Seymour family’s wedding celebrations welcomed Lyhaton’s elite en masse, a strategically placed screen delineated clear social boundaries.
The outer chamber served for general socializing, while the inner sanctum hosted the exclusive banquet.
Those permitted beyond that threshold undeniably belonged to society’s uppermost
echelon.
The attendant who had witnessed the confrontation addressed Corrine with measured politeness. “Miss Holland, shall we arrange for Mr. Ashton’s departure?”
The diplomatic phrasing barely masked the implicit threat of forceful removal.
Corrine regarded the attendant with careful consideration, her crimson lips forming a
smile both courteous and distant. “Thank you.”
Upon hearing her response, Karina released a subtle sigh of relief.
“What prompts that sigh?” Corrine inquired, genuine puzzlement coloring her tone.
“I feared your resolve might waver,” Karina admitted.
A soft laugh escaped Corrine’s lips. “He hardly merits such consideration.”
As they traversed the inner dining area, Jules approached, his gaze sweeping critically over Corrine’s attire. “What inspired this understated choice of dress?”
While other women had adorned themselves in ostentatious finery, competing for attention, Corrine had opted for an elegant white suit that spoke of refined restraint.
Corrine arched an eyebrow in response. “Does my choice not meet with approval?”
She maintained that another’s wedding celebration demanded tasteful discretion rather than attempting to eclipse the bride’s moment.
“Grandfather requests your presence,” Jules announced, indicating the direction with a slight tilt of his head.
Corrine transferred her glass to Jules‘ care before proceeding with graceful poise toward
Carl’s location.
Carl beckoned her forward with evident warmth. “Corrine, come introduce yourself to
Mr. Seymour.”
“Good evening, Mr. Seymour.” Corrine offered the greeting with appropriate deference.
Quentin’s response came wrapped in genuine warmth, his appraising gaze taking in her appearance. “Corrine, you grow more captivating by the day. I wonder what
fortunate young man will eventually win your affections.”
Such speculation about her romantic future left Corrine, still navigating her own path,
with little recourse but to respond with a diplomatic smile.
