Thorns Grow After Betrayal (Celeste and Chester) novel Chapter 96

Mirabelle saw it too—her boyfriend ignoring her calls while posting on Instagram.

In that moment, everything clicked into place.

She stopped obsessively redialing his number and instead opened up their chat window.

Mirabelle: If you don't reply, we're done.

On the other end, Zeke was sitting back, smugly waiting for her call to go to voicemail. But when he glanced at his phone, he saw her message pop up instead.

His temper flared instantly.

How dare she!

If anyone was going to end things, it should be him. No way was he letting her pull this trick on him a second time.

So this time, he was the one who angrily dialed her number.

"Mirabelle, what's your problem? Is breaking up your solution to everything now? You have no idea how disappointing you are!"

He didn't care in the slightest that others were around—Zeke's usual domineering tone filled the air.

Mirabelle seemed used to it. Her voice dropped, quiet and hurt: "Zeke, you finally picked up."

He let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Just spit it out, Mirabelle. I'm busy, I don't have time for your childish games."

Mirabelle didn't hesitate. She told him straight about the dress.

"Is Mr. Blake there? I don't have his number. This gown is really important to me, and I want to get it repaired as soon as possible so I can wear it on the red carpet."

Zeke's patience was already wearing thin, but when he realized Mirabelle was only calling to get to Lance, his anger shot through the roof.

Unbelievable, he thought. She was more calculating than he'd ever expected.

At the mention of his name, Lance looked up.

His usually calm eyes darkened with disapproval. "You mean Mirabelle? I personally oversaw her dress—it was handled by the best designer at Zephyrus Atelier. There's no way there could be a problem like that. Zeke, keep your girlfriend in check."

Zeke shot back, irritated, "I don't need you telling me what to do. If it weren't for Joanna, your so-called designs would've never even made it—"

"Zeke!" Joanna cut in sharply, her gaze stern. "That's all ancient history. There's no need to dredge it up."

Lance's expression soured at Zeke's words. His pale skin only made the anger in his eyes more striking.

Zeke realized he'd gone too far and tried to rein himself in.

Joanna glanced between the two men, her voice gentle but firm. "Lance's success is a mix of talent and timing. If he didn't have real skill, he wouldn't be leading the design world for so many years. Zeke, you owe him an apology."

"Oh, fine…" Zeke muttered, clearly reluctant, but managed a half-hearted apology toward Lance. "Sorry, okay?"