Chapter 893
Chapter 893:
“Are you sure you aren’t overestimating yourself?” he asked, deadpan. “Your face is quite ordinary.”
Jade’s smile stiffened. Still, she forced herself to laugh lightly. “You must be joking.”
Bobby was as direct as ever. “Why would I joke with you? I’m just telling the truth. Don’t you have a mirror at home?”
Jade felt her pride sting at his words. She parted her lips to retort, but Bobby cut in.
“Where exactly is Fernanda?”
Rounding the corner, they spotted Cristian and Fernanda walking hand in hand. Jade’s gaze darted between the two men, silently comparing them. Bobby had a carefree, youthful energy, while Cristian carried himself with an effortless, mature confidence. Esaham was full of affluent people, in Jade’s opinion, but there was a big difference between having money and belonging to a real elite family. She wouldn’t hesitate to select the latter if it were up to her.
Bobby, on the other hand, broke into an easy grin and playfully punched Cristian’s chest. “Hey, Cristian! Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Then he turned to Fernanda, leaning in slightly to study her face.
“What are you looking at?” Cristian eyed him curiously.
“Checking if Fernanda has been crying,” Bobby’s tone was oddly serious. “If she has, she can lean on my shoulder for comfort.”
Fernanda pushed his face away. “You won’t get the chance.”
She felt a twinge of sorrow when her grandmother passed, but not enough to summon tears. She was a woman of restraint, and these family ties were little more than names in a lineage she barely knew.
As the three of them moved toward the main hall, Bobby suddenly halted in their path. “Hey, my dad’s outside.”
“We are aware,” Cristian replied evenly.
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Bobby’s gaze flickered to their intertwined hands, his brows lifting. “And you two are just… like this?”
“Yeah,” Fernanda confirmed, her tone unwavering. “Is there a problem?”
Bobby’s eyes went wide with realization. “Wait, are you two…?”
“Does that trouble you?” Cristian challenged, his voice steady.
“Not in the slightest!” Bobby’s grin stretched wide. “If my dad so much as raises an eyebrow, consider me your first line of defense.”
His loyalty was unquestionable—he was ready to throw himself into the fire for their cause.
The moment they stepped outside, Fernanda’s gaze locked onto Martin, who stood encircled by a cluster of guests. He carried himself with the elegance of a man accustomed to command. Though well into his forties, time had treated him kindly, sculpting him into a figure of strength rather than wear.
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