Chapter 1063: I Want to Clear Up The Misunderstanding

Chapter 1063 – I Want to Clear Up The Misunderstanding

They sat down the living room.

Or rather, they entered a financial battlefield that had been disguised as a living room by expensive cushions and very obedient flowers.

The west sitting room was beautiful in the way old-money rooms always were beautiful. Polished wood, pale walls, tall windows, curtains that looked like they had never experienced dust in their privileged fabric lives, and chairs arranged in a way that looked comfortable until one realized every seat had political meaning.

Adrian took the seat facing Victor.

Victor took the opposite seat with the smile of a man entering a negotiation while pretending it was family tea.

Celeste sat at the side, elegant and composed, though internally she could feel a headache forming behind her eyes like a hostile acquisition.

Naomi sat beside Lux. Not clinging. But close enough that Elise noticed.

Lux sat with the unconscious orange cat resting against his lap, one hand stroking the cat’s dusty fur with absentminded gentleness.

The maids entered with tea and snacks.

The tray was placed with practiced precision. Fine porcelain cups. Silver spoons. Small pastries. Finger sandwiches. Butter cookies. Fruit tarts. Delacour tea service at its best.

Normally, it would have made an atmosphere of sophistication.

Today, it made an atmosphere of everyone waiting for the market to crash.

No one spoke.

Only Lux’s hand moved, stroking the cat. The orange cat breathed faintly against him.

Naomi watched Elise. Not openly hostile. Protective.

Her posture had shifted the moment Elise suggested tea. Naomi knew Elise. Knew that smile. Knew the way her cousin could turn curiosity into a knife and envy into perfume.

Elise smiled as though she did not notice Naomi’s attention.

Naomi had always been reserved. Elegant. Responsible. A little too serious. The good daughter. The proper heiress. The one everyone assumed would carry the Delacour name with clean hands and controlled emotions.

And now she was sitting beside Lux Vaelthorn like she had chosen herself.

Elise hated how good that looked on her.

Across from them, Hugo kept glancing at Maribelle.

He tried not to.

Failed.

Tried again.

Failed at a higher interest rate.

Maribelle stood near Celeste rather than sitting, tablet in hand, posture perfect. She had accepted tea but had not touched it yet, which somehow made her seem more powerful than everyone actually drinking. She looked like she could repossess someone’s confidence with one paragraph.

Hugo did not understand why his eyes kept going back to her.

It was not attraction.

Obviously.

He liked charming women. Soft women. Elegant women. Women who laughed at his jokes before checking whether they were funny.

Maribelle looked like she would audit his jokes, deduct points for weak structure, then send him a revised invoice.

So no.

Not attraction.

He glanced again.

Maribelle’s eyes flicked to him.

Hugo immediately looked at his tea.

Damn it!

Victor and Adrian looked at each other over porcelain cups like two businessmen assessing the value of a failed project neither wanted to admit had already depreciated.

Victor’s smile said family concern.

Adrian’s eyes said hostile takeover attempt.

Victor’s posture said unity.

Adrian’s silence said I know what you are.

The room was performing civility at a loss.

Celeste looked around and felt her headache mature into a full executive-level problem.

Her husband was barely contained.

Her cousin-in-law had arrived too quickly and smelled like opportunity.

Her niece was watching Lux with interest sharpened by envy.

Her nephew was apparently being spiritually mugged by a secretary.

Her daughter was silently guarding her demon boyfriend.

And Lux Vaelthorn, the source of half the chaos and solution to the other half, was petting a cat like a villain in a financial thriller, except the cat was weak, orange, and possibly older than several nations.

Celeste reached for tea.

She needed caffeine.

Tea did not have enough caffeine.

A tragedy.

Finally, Elise made a soft sound. A carefully manufactured opening bell.

"So, Mr. Vaelthorn," she said, voice warm and light, "what kind of business do you have?"

Lux’s hand continued stroking the cat.

His eyes lifted to her.

That was all.

Just his eyes.

Elise’s heart committed another small act of treason.

-Ba-thump!

She kept smiling.

Excellent discipline.

Someone should award her a medal for not visibly malfunctioning.

"Maybe," Elise continued, "we can do a project together someday."

Naomi’s gaze sharpened.

Hugo glanced at his sister with a look that said, ’Ah. So we are embarrassing ourselves publicly now.’

Victor’s eyes moved between Elise and Lux, calculating.

Adrian’s face tightened.

Lux tilted his head slightly. "I thought you didn’t like me." The sentence was soft. Almost amused.

Elise felt heat crawl under her skin, but she did not let her smile falter. "Not really. But I heard rumors."

Naomi’s eyebrow twitched.

Elise leaned back with perfect elegance. "That’s why I want to clear up the misunderstanding."

Lux’s mouth curved faintly. "A generous public relations approach."

"The rumors are killing your reputation," Elise said.

Lux looked deeply entertained. "Are they?"

"They are." Elise took her teacup, but did not drink. "Mysterious billionaire. Playboy. No background. No family. Too many women around you."

Naomi’s hand tightened slightly on her lap.

Lux glanced at Naomi. The glance was not apologetic exactly. More like a silent promise that he knew where the line was. Then he looked back at Elise.

"Sounds efficient. They summarized several points correctly."

Elise blinked.

Hugo snorted.

Victor’s smile paused.

Even Adrian looked momentarily offended on Lux’s behalf, which was a strange emotional asset he did not want added to his portfolio.

Elise recovered. "You admit it?"

"I am mysterious to people without clearance. I am very wealthy. I do have no convenient mortal family record. As for too many women..."

Naomi looked at him.

Lux smiled. "That depends on who is counting and whether they survived giving me feedback."

Naomi sighed. "Lux."

"What? I didn’t say anything scandalous."

"You implied casualty statistics."

"Vaguely."

Maribelle added calmly, "The household complaint survival rate is acceptable."

Hugo stared at her again.

There she went.

Sharp.

Flat.

Completely unbothered.

His interest rose another percentage point against his will.