Chapter 897

Chapter 897:

Fernanda agreed without hesitation, nodding gently and softly saying, “Okay.” Her admiration for Martin stemmed from the consistent respect he showed her, which she returned in kind. Moreover, she was certain that Martin would never propose anything unreasonable—such behavior was simply not in his character.

Cristian, holding her hand, subtly increased the pressure. A look from Fernanda showed her concern, visible in the furrow of his brow. His dark eyes spoke volumes, silently pleading, “Please, don’t make me go.” In response, Fernanda gently squeezed his hand, her touch tender and delicate. Holding his hand brought him the comfort of a soft breeze easing his anxiety.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him. “I’ll join you shortly.”

Watching their exchange, Martin smirked. His voice carried a cool undertone, though there was a playful glimmer in his gaze. “What’s the matter, Cristian? What scares you?”

Cristian countered with a question of his own, subtly deflecting. “Why do you need to speak with her privately? I believe I should be privy to anything you have to say.”

“Oh? So, there are no secrets between you two?” Martin replied.

“If you have something to say that she shouldn’t hear, then perhaps she shouldn’t be here either,” Cristian added, pausing briefly. “Chances are, it wouldn’t be anything positive.”

Martin’s laughter rang out genuinely this time, though his smile carried a trace of bitterness and resignation. He adjusted his position, sitting back with his hands folded in his lap, exuding an air of authority.

His voice softened, taking on a warmer tone. “Come on, I wouldn’t say anything harsh to Fernanda. After all, she is the daughter of a dear friend. Cristian, your concern is unnecessary.”

Cristian remained silent, locking eyes with Martin. His gaze was steady, filled with a proud defiance that was impossible to question.

“It’s fine,” Fernanda said, squeezing Cristian’s hand once more. She was curious to hear what Martin had to say.

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“Martin wants to discuss something with me. Please wait outside.” Gradually, Cristian seemed to soften. He released Fernanda’s hand, turned around, and exited the room.

With the door closed, a deep silence enveloped the space.

Martin was the first to break the silence. Lifting his head, he said, “Fernanda, please take a seat.”

Fernanda settled onto the couch across from Martin. His eyes lingered on her, evaluating her in a thoughtful yet not impolite manner, as if appraising someone he hadn’t seen for a long time.

“You look just like your mother,” he said.

He paused for a moment, then added, “But your personalities are different. You are far more clear-headed than she ever was.”

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