Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 121

Evander leaned one elbow on the high, round cocktail table, studying her with a gaze both intent and inscrutable.

She had no idea how long he'd been watching.

He was dressed to the nines in a jet-black suit, his short hair perfectly styled, every line sharp and clean. The Evander she knew had always been cool and detached, as if nothing in the world could ever truly touch him. But tonight, she caught a fleeting, smoldering heat in his eyes—something she’d never seen before.

Charlotte tightened her grip on her wine glass and calmly looked away.

Evander’s attention shifted just as quickly. He clinked glasses with a guest who’d come over to greet him, and the two of them slipped back into their usual charade of perfect strangers in public.

Wesley extricated himself from a knot of guests and came straight toward her. “There you are.”

“Finished your conversation?” she asked.

He gave a quiet nod and glanced over at Jonathan.

Jonathan offered his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you, Mr. Rayburn. It’s a pleasure.”

“You’re Victor Pembroke’s grandson, aren’t you?” Wesley shook his hand, but let go almost immediately.

“My grandfather and Mr. Rayburn go way back,” Jonathan replied.

“Our families know each other,” Wesley said, “but we’re not personally acquainted.”

They exchanged pleasantries, but beneath their polite words, an unspoken tension simmered.

Charlotte was just about to slip away when she collided with a man approaching from the side. The rim of her red lips brushed against his suit jacket, leaving a faint but unmistakable mark.

The familiar, clean scent of his laundry detergent hit her, and her heart skipped a beat.

Evander glanced down at the lipstick on his lapel, then lifted his eyes to lock onto hers. His voice was low, almost amused. “Miss, you’ve left your lipstick on my jacket.”

If he’d kept quiet, maybe no one would have noticed, but as soon as he spoke, all eyes turned toward them.

Charlotte’s face tightened for a split second, but she managed a bright smile. “Sorry about that, Mr. Howard. I didn’t notice.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a packet of tissues. “Here—let me help you clean it off?”

Evander didn’t move and made no effort to take the tissues.

Nearby, someone whispered, “Can you believe her luck? It’s not enough to have Mr. Pembroke and Mr. Rayburn at her side—now Mr. Howard’s making a move, too!”

No one else could hear their words, but everyone saw Mr. Howard reach for her hand, saw her offer him a tissue—twice—and saw the lipstick on his jacket. And, most importantly, Mr. Howard didn’t seem even remotely annoyed.

After all that, it was clear to everyone: Mr. Howard was definitely interested in Mr. Rayburn’s companion.

“Mr. Howard, are you refusing the tissue on purpose? Trying to make things difficult for my guest?” Wesley’s voice cut in, stepping in to shield Charlotte.

Two heirs from powerful families, side by side—one with an easy elegance, the other sharp and imposing. The whole room was riveted.

“Your guest?” Evander took the tissue from Charlotte at last, giving her a cryptic smile. “I had no idea Miss Sterling had such social prowess. First Mr. Pembroke, now Mr. Rayburn—she certainly has a way with people.”

At the mention of “Miss Sterling,” a ripple of realization went through the crowd.

So they were acquainted.

Curiosity about “Miss Sterling” only deepened.

Charlotte stood in the center of their scrutiny, unruffled. She met Evander’s gaze and replied coolly, “It’s not surprising you didn’t know, Mr. Howard. After all, we’re—” She saw a faint crease appear between his brows, and changed course, “—not well acquainted.”