Chapter 9 Family Banquet Invitation
Sebastian cast an indifferent glance at Brooklyn before casually stating, "Tomorrow night, we're dining at my parents' place."
Brooklyn had braced herself for mockery, so the news left her stunned. The last place she desired to visit was the opulent Kingsley Villa, especially for a family banquet. The mere thought was a nightmare come to life.
She instinctively pressed her lips together, a chill coursing down her spine at the thought of the Kingsley family. Yet, she would never allow Sebastian to glimpse her unease. "Alright," she responded, feigning nonchalance.
Sebastian finally tore his gaze away from the documents before him. "Don't you want to ask why?"
Brooklyn had indeed been curious, fearing she would be unprepared and vulnerable to their taunts. Maintaining her composed demeanor, she asked, "Why?"
Sebastian had already returned to his document. "Quinn is returning to the country tomorrow, and our parents have arranged a welcome party for him."
Brooklyn mulled over the name. It took her a moment to recall that Sebastian had a half-brother named Quinn Kingsley.
Five years ago, Quinn had left for overseas studies and hadn't returned since. Rumors about Sebastian and Quinn had circulated widely, growing increasingly absurd over time.
Yet, Brooklyn had never met Quinn.
"Okay, I will attend tomorrow night," Brooklyn agreed.
She then waited in silence for Sebastian's response. Would they travel to Kingsley Villa together, or meet at the entrance? Were there any plans prior to the event?
She assumed Sebastian would inform her. However, he remained silent.
Sebastian finished reading the document and signed it. His long, slender fingers contrasted starkly with the black pen, their elegance captivating. His signature was heavy, as if the letters were piercing the paper.
His hands were attractive, as was his handwriting.
Brooklyn found herself entranced once again.
Sebastian set down the document. Seeing Brooklyn still present, he asked in a deep voice, "Do you have anything else?"
Brooklyn was jolted from her reverie. Since he hadn't given any specific instructions, she assumed they were going separately.
'I suppose you dislike me that much, Sebastian,' she thought bitterly. 'You can't even bear to share a car ride with me. Well, I don't want to be with you either.'
"I am your attending physician, and you need a recovery examination. We won't know if you can be discharged tomorrow until the examination is completed."
Sebastian frowned. "No need for the examination. I must be discharged tomorrow."
Brooklyn laughed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kingsley, but this is a hospital. I am the doctor, and you have to listen to me."
Sebastian rarely fell ill. This time, she was determined to assert her authority, without revealing her ulterior motives.
Sebastian's face tightened, but he extended his arm nonetheless.
Attending the Kingsley family reunion was a significant event. Brooklyn needed to create a new look for herself, especially to eliminate the disinfectant smell that Sebastian's mother detested.
The following day was a weekend, and Brooklyn woke early, only to find her wardrobe devoid of suitable attire.
As a woman, she felt like a complete failure.
With a deep sigh, Brooklyn grabbed her bag and headed out to shop for clothes.
In the past, Sebastian would prepare a formal dress for her in advance for such occasions. Brooklyn knew he feared her inexpensive clothes would embarrass him.
But now, his attention was solely on Megan, leaving no time to arrange a dress for her.
Purchasing a suitable dress was Brooklyn's most pressing task. After paying, she frowned, thinking, 'The cost of this performance is so expensive!'
Sebastian had given her a bank card before, but she avoided using it as he would receive a transaction notification each time. She didn't want him to know.
As she watched the dwindling balance in her bank account via text messages, Brooklyn silently cursed.
"Miss."
As Brooklyn descended the steps, her heart heavy, a man's voice halted her. Being stopped without reason irked her.
She looked up, retorting, "Who are you asking to stop?"
The man opposite her appeared to be in his early twenties, dressed in loose, trendy clothes, his hair dyed a striking gold. He grinned, his arrogance palpable.
"You," he replied.
Brooklyn furrowed her brows. Her day had already been unpleasant, and now she had to deal with a man who resembled a hoodlum. "Who are you?"
The young man flashed a mischievous smile. "Come on, pretty, don't be angry."
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