Chapter 462 Jealousy
Winnie looked toward Melanie and asked, "And you, Melanie? Care to join us?"
"I'd rather not impose if Mr. Bentley is inviting you, Winnie," Melanie replied coolly and shyly, her attitude toward Bentley one of distant unfamiliarity.
Bentley narrowed his eyes, a smile on his face that betrayed neither pleasure nor anger. "The more, the merrier, right? Is this your assistant?"
"Yes, this is Melanie," Winnie introduced.
Winnie smiled; she was new to Trento City, and normally they, the nobility, would be more acquainted. However, as Melanie was the illegitimate daughter, perhaps she wasn't as integrated into their circles. It seemed Melanie was not familiar with Bentley.
The group sat around the table in a mix of awkward and polite pretense.
"Here's the burn ointment I got for you," Bentley said, presenting it with a flourish. "It's top-of-the-line; the hospital says it will even remove scars."
Winnie grimaced. " Like I said, I'm not the one who got burned."
Bentley, unfazed, casually tossed it onto the table, his gaze briefly catching Melanie's bitten lip as he unconsciously frowned. With a smirk, he passed the ointment to Winnie, commenting, "Well, whoever ends up with a burn can make use of this!"
Winnie thought it made sense, especially since it was a special formula—Mr. Bentley must have splurged. So, she casually accepted. "Melanie, I'll have my assistant get some for you soon."
Melanie was deeply engrossed in studying the menu. Her jet-black bob hairstyle obscured her collarbones and grazed against her wound, eliciting a sharp pain that caused her to wince.
Bentley glanced at the assistant, who promptly helped Melanie move her hair out of the way.
"Please order, Ms. Winnie," Bentley said, passing the menu to Winnie.
Winnie, noticing his eager gesture, furrowed her brow. It was time to set things straight. "Actually, Mr. Bentley, I'm engaged, thanks to a setup by my father. I hope you won't take this to heart."
Unfazed and far from discouraged, Bentley's pursuit was resolute. "No worries, a fiancée can be replaced, after all! I'm going to keep pursuing you, and I might be around you a lot. Don't find me annoying, Ms. Winnie."
Winnie was too annoyed to voice her feelings.
Melanie, surprised by Bentley's brazenness and Winnie's simmering demeanor, couldn't help but smile.
Catching Melanie's glance and with a smirk of his own, Bentley teased Winnie, "Surely I'm a worthy match for you, aren't I?"
The bell at the restaurant’s entrance chimed as a few people walked in. Among them, a notably composed and stern-looking man stood out, exuding an icy demeanor that seemed to chill the air around him.
Not to mention, his cold gaze landed on Winnie's table, right as the man across from her was fervently courting her—the chill in the air intensified.
Ishara, following his gaze, commented with a smile, "What a coincidence that Winnie's here dining, too. But why with Mr. Bentley? Ah, their hands seem to be touching. Doesn't Winnie already have a fiancé?"
As she spoke, Ishara's brows knitted together in concern. "I must be mistaken, Lawrence. Winnie isn't the type to be fickle, right?"
Prompted by her words, Lawrence recalled the overly friendly interaction between Winnie and the man he had just observed. One troublemaker wasn't enough; on her very first day at work, she had already drawn in another one. With him, she was either distant or sarcastic, frequently in conflict in the office, yet with another man, she was all smiles, glowing with happiness.
A thorn planted itself in Lawrence's heart, his handsome face turned icy as he coldly asked, "Who did you say he is exactly?"
"That's Mr. Bentley from the Jenkins family," Ishara remarked, turning to gaze at Angela as she walked in. With a hint of mischief, she added, "I bet Mr. Bentley has got his eye on Winnie. She's just returned to the Blanchet family fold - a real catch for a strategic marriage... But why hasn't she told Mr. Bentley about her fiancé?"
Her words delivered a double blow, clouding Lawrence's expression and ensuring that Angela, upon entering, caught sight of Mr. Bentley cozying up next to Winnie.
Angela, like a lit firecracker, stared at Winnie with clenched fists, seething with jealousy. "As if Mr. Bentley would ever consider her, a bastard child. No shame, that one. Engaged yet seducing Mr. Bentley? Watch your back, Winnie!"
With that, she stormed over.
Ishara, with a sly smile, had intentionally lured Lawrence there after spotting Winnie and Mr. Bentley downstairs in the restaurant.
"Angela, don't do anything rash," Ishara chimed in, her voice casual and unbothered.
Angela barreled up to the table, shoving Melanie aside to plop down. She pointed an accusatory finger at Winnie, exclaiming, "Mr. Bentley, don't let this second-rate woman deceive you. She's got a country bumpkin for a fiancé – brought him right into the Blanchet’s gathering to make a fool of herself! And you're chasing after her? Have I heard wrong?"
But Bentley's gaze lingered not on Angela but on Melanie, who'd been pushed to the ground, her neck hitting the corner of the table, pain shooting through her.
Groaning and sweating cold beads, Jannie rushed to her side, "Melanie! Are you okay?"
Bentley's stare was icy as he glanced at Angela, quickly brushing Winnie's hand with a mocking smile. "Whom I pursue is none of your concern, Ms. Angela, as I fancy Ms. Winnie!"
"You!" Angela's face drained of color as she faced the man she admired; her eyes shooting hostile glares at Winnie.
Meanwhile, Lawrence watched from afar, wishing he could crush Bentley's hand with his glare. It seemed that Bentley did have feelings for her. He even declared it publicly. However, Lawrence wondered why Winnie didn't pull away or rebuff Bentley. Perhaps she actually enjoyed being the center of this pursuit.
Winnie, in reality, was stunned, wondering why was Bentley's behavior toward her so odd. Plus, Angela's words seemed to slide right off her, impassive.
She withdrew her hand slowly, not wanting a public showdown with Angela in the restaurant. Picking up the menu, she suggested, "Mr. Bentley, shall we order?"
Bentley glanced away from Melanie, gave Angela a cold shoulder, and turned to Winnie with a smile. "Sure, what would you like?"
"Melanie can't handle spicy food... Let's go for something light. How about a chicken noodle soup and a few side dishes?" Winnie proposed.
From the side, Ishara's delicate voice chimed in, not too loud or soft, "Lawrence, I’d like some chicken noodle soup as well."
Lawrence, his eyes as frosty as a deep winter cellar, shifted his gaze back from Winnie to Ishara and offered a small smile. "If that’s what you fancy, let’s order it."
"Secretary, purchase every last bowl of chicken noodle soup and the side dishes in this place!" Lawrence instructed.
His voice was uniquely cool and commanding, capturing Winnie's attention. She didn’t miss the fact that Ishara ordered the same menu as she had.
Lawrence's motives were unclear. He seemed to be intentionally withholding something Winnie enjoyed, even as he dined with Ishara.
A chill flashed across her eyes as she pressed her lips together tightly.
Bentley, frowning, stood up and interjected politely, "Excuse me, Lawrence, right? I’m afraid Ms. Winnie at our table already ordered the chicken noodle soup and side dishes."
"What does it matter?" Lawrence locked eyes with him, a simmering anger evident between them, creating palpable tension in the air. "Secretary, buy this restaurant. We're dining here now—everyone else, you're free to leave!"
Winnie stared at his stoic face, unexpectedly brash and domineering, all to hurt her on Ishara's behalf.
Drained of color, she stood abruptly and left first.
"Winnie..." Melanie winced, holding back her pain as she followed.
Bentley also stood up, giving Lawrence a meaningful look that conveyed authority. Then, his attention turned to Winnie as she briskly walked away, her demeanor as sharp and cutting as the chilly wind. Recalling a scene from the Rodriguez family banquet, he chuckled quietly to himself and said, "Well, Lawrence, the place is clear. Are you content now? Enjoy your meal!"
"Lawrence, why drive Winnie away just for me?" Ishara cooed plaintively, throwing a glance at Winnie.
As if she hadn't heard a single word, Winnie continued to stride out of the restaurant, her demeanor icy and detached.
Watching her leave after ignoring him entirely, Lawrence clenched his jaw in frustration—far from pleased, his expression was stormy to the core.
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