Chapter 502: Chapter 502

Harrison approached Mr. Thomas with a raised glass, his smile polished yet calculated.

Mr. Thomas’s grip tightened around his cane as he studied the younger man before him, his knuckles whitening with suppressed fury.

Forcing his expression into something resembling amusement, he narrowed his piercing eyes and replied with deliberate levity.

"Now, now, ’Mr. Harrison—such formality is hardly necessary."

In all their previous dealings, Harrison had never shown him such courtesy.

Was this sudden deference born of guilt, or was there something more beneath the surface?

"Thomas and I go way back," Harrison countered smoothly, his gaze sharp with unspoken scrutiny.

"Business is business, but at an event , there’s no need to stand on ceremony."

Harrison took a leisurely sip of his drink before adding,

"Speaking of Thomas—where is he?"

His eyes swept the room with theatrical curiosity, a smirk playing at his lips.

"The banquet’s about to start.

It’s not like him to be late."

*As if you don’t know exactly why he’s absent.*

Mr. Thomas’s jaw clenched imperceptibly, the veneer of his smile cracking under the weight of rising anger.

The words burned in his throat, but he swallowed them down, his fingers digging deeper into the cane’s handle.

Harrison took in Mr.Thomas’s expression, a fleeting shadow passing deep within his eyes.

The next moment, his brows furrowed.

Did something happen?"

Mr. Thomas knew his expression had betrayed him and quickly softened his demeanor.

"Forgive my outburst, President Harrison," he said, his voice low and displeased, his face tight with irritation.

"It’s just that reckless brat—he doesn’t know what’s important.

A gathering , and he dares to skip it without a second thought."

Mr. Thomas clenched his jaw, adding darkly, "Once this is over, I’ll make sure he learns his lesson."

*What a cunning old fox—not a single crack in his armor.*

Realizing he wouldn’t get anything useful from Mr. Thomas, Harrison abandoned his probing.

After exchanging a few more polite words, he picked up his wine glass and walked away.

*Damn little bastard.*

*Bullying others with power—sooner or later, the tables will turn.*

Mr. Thomas watched Harrison’s retreating figure, his gaze growing colder, his grip tightening around his glass.

With a sharp snap, the glass shattered in his hand.

A waiter noticed the scene and immediately stepped forward to escort Mr.Thomas away for handling. Harrison paused mid-step at the commotion behind him.

Glancing back at Mr. Thomas being led away by the attendant, the smirk on his lips deepened.

Seems Thomas isn’t doing too well.

Resuming his stride, he headed toward Mr. Bernardo and the others.

"Look, Queen’s here," someone remarked as the music shifted, drawing attention to the entrance.

"But who’s that American guy next to her?"

"Never seen him before, but damn, he’s handsome."

"And who are the couple behind them?"

Since this charity gala catered to an international crowd, unfamiliar faces were everywhere—fueling far more lively chatter than usual.

To complement Taylor, Queen had abandoned her usual bold, eye-catching style.

Instead, she wore an Alessandra Rich black strapless dress with ruffled detailing, paired with Stuart Weitzman heels in the same shade.

Her chestnut-brown curls cascaded freely down her back.

The sleek, timeless cut accentuated her natural allure and those endless legs effortlessly.

Every man who noticed her couldn’t help but think one thing: *Stunning.*

The Bernardo sisters were like night and day—identical in looks, yet worlds apart in everything else.

The woman trailing behind wore a light blue one-shouldered, tiered gown that stood out like a breath of fresh air amidst the sea of classic dark-toned evening dresses. It was Melissa.

Her gaze swept across the banquet hall, disappointment flickering in her eyes.

"Where are Sinclair and the others?

I was so looking forward to seeing Camilla steal the show," she murmured under her breath.

She wanted these overdressed foreign women to witness what true beauty—the kind that hailed from San Francisco—looked like.

There was a certain pride in that.

Vicente watched Melissa’s starstruck admiration for Camilla, his lips curving into a helpless yet affectionate smile.

Unlike the men, most of the women’s attention was riveted on the two gentlemen nearby.

The man standing beside Queen was dressed in a sharply tailored dark gray suit, his features classically handsome, his expression warm and composed.

His dark, slightly narrowed eyes held a faint, gentle amusement.

Taylor had the striking good looks of an Eastern gentleman, but what drew people in even more was the quiet, jade-like elegance that seemed to radiate from him.

"Who’s that man next to Queen?"

"Never seen him before, but he’s definitely not someone ordinary."

Someone approached Juliet and asked, "Juliet, who’s that man with your sister?"

Juliet’s gaze lingered on Queen’s face—so strikingly similar to her own, yet carrying an entirely different aura.

She narrowed her eyes slightly and replied in a soft, measured tone, "Taylor’s from the Taylor family in San Francisco."

A pause, then she added deliberately, "And Queen’s fiancé."

Why had Queen changed her dress?

Had she discovered the sabotage, or was there another reason?

"Wasn’t Queen engaged to Harrison...?"

The words slipped out before the speaker could stop themselves.

Realizing their blunder, they quickly shut their mouth and walked away, glass in hand.

Juliet pretended not to have heard, though her eyes noticeably darkened.

Nearby, someone from a family equally as influential as the Bernardo’s—and who harbored no fondness for either Juliet or Queen—couldn’t care less about her reaction.

"The Taylor family?" they mused aloud.

"I’ve heard my father mention them.

In San Francisco, their status and influence are on par with Harrison family’s."

"Isn’t Queen just incredibly lucky?

Barely lost Harrison, and now she’s got another man like that."

"Do you think the Bernardo family only handed Harrison over to Eldest Miss Bernardo because this Taylor family man took a liking to Queen?"

"The Bernardo family really raised two remarkable daughters—they’ve perfected the art of keeping all the advantages within the family."

Juliet overheard this and turned to glance at the two women.

They hadn’t thought much of their own loud gossiping about Queen, but the moment Juliet’s cool gaze landed on them, an inexplicable chill ran down their spines, and their words died in their throats.

Without a word, Juliet calmly averted her eyes.

She’d remember those faces.

No one noticed the undercurrents among the women—their attention remained fixed on Taylor and his group.

"Who’s that man walking behind him?

His physique is incredible."

At this remark, numerous gazes shifted toward Vicente, who stood a step behind Taylor.

His features were sharp and striking, his jawline chiseled.

Even the simplest dark suit couldn’t conceal the powerful, muscular frame beneath.

"Tonight’s event is just overflowing with top-tier men."

"Let’s go greet them later."

Taylor led Melissa and the others toward Mr. Bernardo’s direction.

Recognizing Taylor’s status, some guests immediately approached with wine glasses in hand to greet him.

Taylor gave a slight nod in response.

Every gesture he made exuded an air of refined elegance. Mrs. Bernardo watched Taylor and Queen with satisfaction.

These two really do make a perfect match.

* The ladies around her soon began inquiring about Taylor’s background.

After offering a brief explanation, Mrs. Bernardo took Juliet by the arm and headed toward the group.

"Mr. Bernardo, Mrs. Bernardo," Taylor greeted them politely before turning his gaze to Harrison.

A single form of address spoke volumes about the distance between them.

"Mr. Taylor," Harrison replied, his lips curling slightly as he studied Taylor’s composed expression.

A flicker of scrutiny flashed in his eyes.

*Is this man just exceptionally good at masking his emotions—or does he still have no idea what happened to Sinclair?*

Compared to the latter, he found the former scenario more plausible.

Mrs. Bernardo, taking in Melissa’s delicate features—so reminiscent of her brother Taylor—immediately recognized her and smiled warmly.

"You really inherited all the best traits from your parents.

Absolutely stunning."

Mr. Bernardo nodded in agreement.

Both of their children are exceptional in their own ways."

Though Melissa deeply resented the Bernardo family for what they had done to her brother, she knew better than to show it openly and risk causing him more trouble.

She offered them a polite yet distant smile.

"Uncle Bernardo, Auntie Bernardo."

Following her gaze, the Bernardo parents turned their attention to Vicente beside her, about to inquire further.

But before they could speak, Melissa looked at her brother and cut in.

"Brother," she said, her brow furrowing slightly.

"I’m not feeling well.

I’d like to go rest."

Taylor understood his sister’s unspoken discomfort and had no intention of forcing her to stay and endure the social niceties.

"Go ahead," he replied.

They had arrived in the same car, so it was obvious they knew whether Melissa was truly feeling unwell or not.

Queen studied Melissa but chose not to expose her lie, instead speaking softly, "Would you like me to keep you company?"

She could sense Melissa’s resentment—whether toward her parents or the Bernardo family as a whole.

The reason wasn’t hard to guess.

"No need," Melissa replied.

Though she didn’t dislike Queen personally, she wasn’t particularly fond of her either.

"Vicente can stay with me."

Vicente’s expression remained cool and detached as he wrapped an arm around Melissa’s waist, guiding her away from the crowd.

Not once did he spare Queen’s father or the others so much as a glance.

Against his tall, imposing frame, Melissa appeared especially delicate, almost as if she were entirely sheltered within his embrace.

Juliet watched the departing pair with an unreadable gaze.

Melissa murmured, nestling against him and whispering just loud enough for him to hear,

"I’m a little hungry."

"Later, I’ll sit down while you sneak me some cake."

Vicente’s usual stern expression softened as he spoke, his features warming with tenderness.