Chapter 160

Isadora stood there, feeling like an item on display, waiting to be appraised and sold.

Today, she wore a simple white dress with delicate pleats at the neckline— minimalist, yet undeniably elegant. The dress hugged her slender figure, accentuating every subtle curve. She wore no jewelry; her light brown hair, softly curled, was pinned back in an unadorned style, revealing a fresh, luminous face with sparkling eyes and a bright smile.

She really was a beauty.

No wonder her grandson was so taken with her.

Deanna's gaze lingered for a moment before she spoke, her tone calm and measured. "Miss Vaughan, please sit."

Isadora wondered why Mrs. Fitzgerald had invited her here so suddenly. Her only impression of this woman came from that phone call she'd overheard-Deanna's voice had sounded warm and loving as she spoke to Victor.

Now, in person, Deanna looked every bit the gracious matriarch, but there was an unmistakable authority in her eyes-a quiet intensity that made Isadora inexplicably nervous.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Fitzgerald."

The garden surrounding them was filled with

a serene ritual

last, Deanna broke the

Vaughan, do

delicate porcelain cup. She took it, sipping cautiously. The tea was clear and

without being an expert, Isadora could tell this was

she said

tea of this quality. Each year, only a few precious ounces are produced. That

Fifty thousand a sip?

choked on the tea's

met Mrs. Fitzgerald's sharp, appraising eyes. Forcing

Deanna's smile never wavered.

our only grandchild. His parents died when he was

fingers pressing

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