Veronica navigated her car up the winding driveway of the Norman manor early Saturday morning. The sprawling estate stood silent and majestic against the clear sky. With most of the Norman family residing overseas, she expected a quiet visit with only Ridley present, aside from the household staff.

The large wooden doors opened before she could ring the bell. Ridley himself appeared in the doorway, a warm smile breaking across his face despite the noticeable hollowness in his cheeks.

"Ver's here?" he asked, his voice carrying the familiar warmth she'd always associated with him.

"Yes," Veronica returned his smile, studying his thinner frame with concern. "You've lost quite a bit of weight."

Ridley laughed lightly, waving away her worry. "I have, but I'm in good spirits—don't worry about me."

He ushered her inside, the grand foyer opening into a comfortable sitting room where tea had already been arranged. Veronica noticed how he didn't inquire about Cullen's absence or mention Sabrina. His silence on these matters confirmed her suspicion that he was already well-informed about her impending divorce and custody situation.

Following his lead, Veronica kept the conversation light as they sipped tea. The familiar ritual provided a moment of normalcy amid the chaos of her life. The antique teacup felt delicate between her fingers as they discussed inconsequential matters—the weather, local news, mutual acquaintances.

About twenty minutes into their visit, one of the manor's maids approached with a slight bow.

"Sir, another guest has arrived," she announced quietly.

Ridley's response was merely a short nod. He made no move to stand, instead reaching for the plate of pastries on the table between them.

"Would you like to try one? They're freshly made this morning," he offered, clearly uninterested in the new arrival.

Veronica nodded appreciatively, taking a small bite of the buttery pastry. The sweet flavor had barely registered when the butler's voice echoed from the entrance hall.

"Mr. Dennis, this way please."

Ridley's eyes darted toward the sound, and Veronica watched as his expression immediately hardened. She paused mid-bite, a sinking feeling in her stomach. The sharp click of high heels against marble confirmed her worst fears before she even turned to look.

There they stood—Cullen and Niall, side by side as if they belonged together. Cullen's gaze briefly met hers before sliding away dismissively. He turned his attention to Ridley instead.

"Mr. Norman," Cullen greeted with practiced politeness.

Ridley responded with nothing more than a cold grunt, his earlier warmth completely evaporated.

Undeterred, Cullen gestured to the woman beside him. "Mr. Norman, this is Niall Crystal."

Niall stood tall in her designer outfit, pretending Veronica was invisible. With a practiced smile that didn't reach her eyes, she extended her greeting. "Hello, Mr. Norman."

The tension in the room thickened. Ridley's expression grew even stonier as he regarded the pair. A harsh laugh escaped his lips, cold and cutting.

"I don't recall that I invited you, so don't call me that," he replied, his voice carrying an edge that could slice through steel.

"Mr. Norman," Cullen repeated, a warning note in his voice. His displeasure at Ridley's treatment of Niall was evident in the slight tightening around his eyes.

Ridley remained unmoved, his silence a wall between them.

Cullen, seemingly unfazed by the cold reception, led Niall to the opposite couch and sat down. His familiarity with the manor was evident in his comfortable movements, disregarding Ridley's obvious displeasure.

Veronica kept her eyes fixed on her teacup. The audacity stunned her. Just days after parading Niall through the Dennis manor, Cullen was already introducing her to Ridley? With their divorce papers practically awaiting signatures, he couldn't wait to present his new partner to everyone who mattered in his life?

The bitter taste in her mouth had nothing to do with the tea.

Cullen reached for the teapot as if he were in his own home, preparing to serve both himself and Niall despite Ridley's clear hostility.

In a flash, Ridley's hand shot out, slapping Cullen's away from the fine china. "Don't touch the tea I brewed!" he snapped, years of friendship momentarily forgotten.

Cullen's lips curved into a smirk, seemingly amused by the outburst rather than offended. "Then should I brew it myself?" he challenged, his tone light but his eyes calculating.

The air between them crackled with unspoken accusations and lingering loyalties. Veronica sat motionless, caught in the crossfire of a battle whose lines had been drawn long before this moment.