Chapter 498
Chapter 498:
Bobby shot a glance at Marc and sneered. “Marc, isn’t being the boss at work enough for you? Why drag that bossy vibe home?”
Marc didn’t react. He simply smirked disdainfully and gave a slight shake of his head, dismissing Bobby’s jab.
Yet, to everyone’s surprise, Cristian poured himself half a glass of wine, stood up, and, with a small smile, raised his glass to Curran. “Here’s to your health and a long, prosperous life.”
After everyone else had offered their well-wishes to Curran, which he acknowledged with a smile, he oddly remained silent when Cristian spoke.
Instead, he turned to Fernanda, casually asking, “How’s the food today? Is everything to your liking?”
He blatantly ignored Cristian, leaving him awkwardly standing. The table fell silent, eyes flickering between Curran and Cristian, the tension palpable.
Even guests from other tables, drawn over to share a drink with Curran, sensed the discomfort as Curran dismissed Cristian outright. They couldn’t help but empathize with Cristian, imagining the sting of such public disregard.
Fernanda found herself drifting back to her childhood days in the village. Living with Hiram in the old village set her apart from the other children, who walked to school together, laughing and sharing secrets. Whenever she tried to join their chatter, they treated her as if she were invisible.
Each snub etched silent vows in her heart, promising to stay quiet and distant. Years later, the sting of those moments had names—embarrassment and humiliation.
She wondered if Cristian was feeling the same way now, as she had back then.
Back then, she had been too young to grasp the complexities of heartache. Now, though, Cristian was offering kindness, only to be rebuffed at every turn.
And it wasn’t just strangers—it was his own family.
₥ₒᵣₑ ᵤₚdₐₜₑₛ ᵢₙ gₐₗₙₒᵥₑₗₛ.𝒸ₒₘ
Why were they cold-shouldering him like this?
Onlookers might gossip about him behind his back because of this.
Cristian let out a small laugh after a moment. He puckered his lips, lightly tapped his glass on the table as though mimicking a toast with Curran, then threw his head back and guzzled the wine.
He drank hastily, his Adam’s apple bobbing rapidly. A rogue droplet of wine escaped, tracing a line down his jaw before disappearing into his shirt collar. After draining his glass, he leaned back into his chair.
His demeanor remained composed, his eyes steady—no flicker of shame crossing his face, suggesting he’d grown accustomed to such treatment.
Silence settled over the table, the tension thick in the air.
Marc lowered his gaze to his plate, but Fernanda caught the faint twitch of a smirk pulling at his lips. Marc looked positively smug, fully aware of Curran’s dislike for Cristian, yet he had purposefully singled him out.
.
.
.