The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life

Chapter 598:

On the sleek black leather sofa, a woman in her forties sat with an effortless air of command. Her thick, wavy hair cascaded over her left shoulder like a wave breaking gently against the shore. Her white attire clung gracefully to her figure, highlighting a form both alluring and dignified. She reclined lazily against the armrest of the sofa, her presence carrying an almost magnetic elegance. Every movement of hers—every glance, every gesture—was infused with an innate sophistication, as though she had been born to command attention and draw gazes from all around.

In a way, she resembled a regal Persian cat—graceful, dignified, aloof, and undeniably captivating.

When Corrine stepped into the room, Nate had already informed her that the woman before her was his aunt, Andromache Hopkins. Upon seeing Corrine, Andromache’s brows lifted ever so slightly, and a subtle, knowing smile curled her lips.

She knew her nephew well—Nate had always been indifferent to the charms of women. So, the presence of a woman by his side was an anomaly of sorts. No wonder Christos had been talking about her as if she were some unexpected revelation.

Andromache’s eyes quickly scanned Corrine, assessing her with practiced precision. Her gaze lingered momentarily on the ring adorning Corrine’s finger, and a faint, icy glint flickered in her eyes. Then, with a smile that seemed to carry its own mystery, she asked, her voice smooth and deliberate, “Nate, who is this?”

Corrine’s gaze dropped to the cup in her hands, feeling a strange tightness creep into her chest. She found herself wondering how Nate would present her to his aunt.

is my fiancée.” Nate’s voice, steady and unwavering, filled

went blank, her ears ringing with the force of the declaration. Her heart raced, skipping a beat as her thoughts spiraled out of

trying to hide the swirl

glinting in her eyes as she processed Nate’s words. She shifted her posture, letting her hair fall dramatically

serious?” she asked, her

“Absolutely,” Nate replied firmly.

clasped Corrine’s hand in his, holding it

a knowing darkness flickering behind her gaze as she studied Nate, but Nate remained calm, sipping his coffee, his face

drawn-out silence, Andromache finally refocused her attention on

me, talking so much and forgetting to introduce myself,” she said, her voice softer

moment, as if considering the weight of

Andromache Hopkins, Nate’s