CHAPTER 473: STOP PRETENDING WE ARE ALONE

The underground parking garage.

"I’ve already invited Melissa and Vincent," Taylor said gently, looking at Sinclair and Camilla.

"Let’s have dinner together."

Sinclair’s expression remained indifferent, clearly showing little interest.

However, he didn’t outright refuse. Instead, he lowered his gaze to the woman in his arms.

"Want to go?"

"Yes!"

Camilla thought of Melissa, and a faint smile flickered in her eyes.

As a friend, she felt she should go.

If anything unexpected happened, she could always step in to help.

"Alright,"

Sinclair replied, his demeanor still calm.

But upon closer inspection, one could see the unmistakable tenderness in his eyes.

"I’ll get in the car first," A faint smile played at the corners of Taylor’s lips as he strode toward his car.

Taylor had no doubt about it.

If Camilla said no, Sinclair wouldn’t hesitate to turn him down.

The man’s infamous "bros before hoes" attitude was practically common knowledge at this point.

Meanwhile, in an upscale American restaurant in the capital of Country E...

Inside an elegantly furnished private dining room, Melissa paced frantically by the window, her delicate fingers tightly interlaced.

Her fair, doll-like face was etched with anxiety.

At twenty-three years old, she feared nothing in this world—except her older brother.

Every childhood memory of his stern discipline was still painfully vivid in her mind.

So when she’d learned this afternoon that he was coming to Country E, she’d already started mentally cataloging all one hundred and eight possible ways he might kill her.

Leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, a strikingly handsome man watched her with amused detachment.

His chiseled features remained impassive, but there was unmistakable amusement in his gaze as he observed Melissa’s antics—like a panicked ant on a hot griddle.

Vincent wore a black dress shirt, the top buttons carelessly undone, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his sculpted torso beneath the fabric.

His sleeves were rolled up to reveal powerfully built forearms, the muscles sharply defined.

The tailored black suit pants only accentuated his long, lean legs.

Despite the formal attire, his roguish charm still shone through unmistakably.

"You’re still laughing?!"

Melissa caught the faint smirk playing at the corners of Vicente’s lips as she paced, and her temper flared instantly.

"Not at all," Vicente lied, his grin not only refusing to fade but deepening instead.

"Liar!

You totally are!"

Melissa stamped her foot, her delicate chin tilting up as she glared at him.

Like a kitten puffing up in defiance—utterly lacking in menace, yet unbearably adorable.

Vicente’s eyes crinkled with amusement, and he let out a low chuckle.

"This is all your fault! How dare you laugh!"

Melissa was thoroughly incensed now.

She pinched his arm in frustration, her face a mix of anger and panic.

"What are we going to do when my brother gets here?

Taylor’s definitely going to beat me up!"

Was there still time to run?

Vicente arched a brow, his voice laced with lazy amusement.

"If it’s all my fault, like you said, then what’s there to worry about?"

Vicente reached out and pulled the person before him into his embrace, his gaze tender as he looked down at Melissa, his voice warm and steady.

"At worst, I’ll let your brother beat me up."

"Hearing you say that... actually doesn’t sound too bad," Melissa mused, her eyes flickering with thought before gradually brightening.

"If my brother takes it out on you, he definitely won’t come after me next."

Better you than me?

She really was his girlfriend, through and through.

Seeing Melissa agree without hesitation, the amusement in Vicente’s eyes deepened, his brows lifting in helpless fondness.

"Vicente," Melissa suddenly frowned mid-calculation, looking up at him with a stern warning.

"We have a deal—if my brother really does hit you, you’re not allowed to fight back.

Otherwise, I won’t forgive you."

She had never seen her older brother throw a punch, but she had witnessed Vicente in action.

If he retaliated, how could her brother’s recently recovered health possibly withstand it?

"Alright," Vicente murmured, lowering his head to press a kiss to Melissa’s forehead, his lips curving into a smile, his tone dripping with affection.

"I promise, I won’t fight back."

"That’s more like it," Melissa hooked her finger with Vicente’s, arching her delicate brows as she continued plotting.

"Here’s the deal—when my brother arrives, you’ll go straight up to him with a proper apology."

She narrowed her eyes, recalling scenes from TV dramas, and added, "Preferably while clinging to his leg."

Vicente: "..." If he actually clung to Taylor’s leg, a non-issue would instantly escalate into a full-blown crisis.

But seeing Melissa so earnestly scheming, he couldn’t bring himself to burst her bubble.

"Don’t worry, though," she softened her voice, mistaking his silence for concern and feeling a pang of guilt.

"With me there to mediate, I’ll make sure you don’t get beaten too badly."

"Hmm."

The corners of Vicente’s lips curled deeper.

"Then I really owe you my thanks."

"No need, it’s my pleasure," Melissa replied with a smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

Vicente’s gaze softened, and he leaned in, about to steal a kiss.

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Vincent paused, pulling it out to check the screen.

"Taylor’s here."

So soon?!

Melissa’s cheerful expression froze instantly.

The next second, she hurried to the door and stood ramrodd straight beside it, as if standing at military attention.

Vicente raised an eyebrow.

"What’s this about?"

"Welcoming my brother, of course," she said solemnly, waving him over.

"Calvin always says attitude matters most after making a mistake.

I need to show I’m serious."

Three sentences, and yet another man was the topic—one he couldn’t even bring himself to resent.

The frustration was unbearable.

Vicente stood rooted to the spot, his thin lips pressed together, his deep eyes unreadable.

"What are you just standing there for?"

Melissa stared at him, her face etched with tension and impatience.

"Come over here and help me make an impression!"

Vicente: "..." After standing frozen for a good ten seconds, he finally relented and walked over.

His chiseled, stoic face was a picture of resignation and reluctant compliance.

What else could he do?

She was his girlfriend—spoiling her was part of the deal.

Meanwhile.

Inside the private car heading to the Bernardo family estate.

Two women with strikingly similar features but polar opposite auras sat facing each other.

The atmosphere was thick with silence, cold and suffocating.

Juliet had been watching her counterpart—Queen, who idly twirled a pair of sunglasses in her hands—for a long while.

Only as the car neared the Bernardo family manor did she finally speak, her voice calm but detached.

"What were you doing back there?"

Her tone was still soft, but it carried none of the warmth she had shown in front of Harrison.

Instead, it was laced with a quiet chill.

Queen paused her absentminded fidgeting and looked up, her crimson lips curling into a faint smirk.

"What do you think?"