Love On Ice: Don’t Leave Me, My Charming Liar

Chapter 207: Nyla felt a flutter of anticipation herself. Her ensemble today was her own creation, and she wondered if it would meet Claire's exacting standards. Thirty minutes passed as they continued their quiet observation from their corner, sampling the refreshments. A sudden burst of applause jolted through the banquet hall, causing Nyla's fork to clatter against her plate. Their attention snapped forward as Roger made his entrance. Since Ethan's takeover, Roger's influence had crumbled.

Ethan had effectively marginalized the entire Brooks family, ruling through a potent mixture of respect and fear. Roger's unexpected appearance set Nyla's mind racing. Something momentous loomed on the horizon. Would he declare Callie as Ethan's only legitimate future wife before all these witnesses? It would be characteristic of him. Such a move would ensure that even after Ethan's marriage, the world would still view Callie as his legitimate wife, while Nyla would be branded an opportunistic usurper.

Nyla's hand drifted to her stomach, a fleeting moment of vulnerability crossing her features before she masterfully composed herself. Ethan's absence was unsurprising-he rarely graced such gatherings. The banquet proceeded with superficial pleasantries and forced smiles masking underlying tensions. Nyla and Alisha remained in their quiet corner, overlooked by the crowd. Neither woman minded; Nyla maintained her dignity, while Alisha preferred avoiding such social circles anyway. "Nyla, is Claire not coming? I haven't caught a glimpse of her," Alisha sighed.

"I suppose that's what I get for building up my hopes. At least the refreshments are outstanding." "Patience," Nyla assured her. "You'll have a chance to see her." . Before Claire could make her appearance, an interruption halted Nyla's path to the restroom. "Ms. Green, Mr. Roger Brooks requests your immediate attention." Nyla recognized the implications and offered no resistance. She sent Alisha a quick message before following the summons. In a nearby private chamber, Roger occupied the sofa with stern authority, while Callie stood beside him, triumph gleaming in her eyes.

Nyla lowered her gaze with deliberate disinterest. "What do you require of me?" she inquired. "Weren't you taught to greet your elders properly?" Roger's frown deepened, his displeasure radiating across the room. Nyla knew that Roger was never satisfied with her. She had long stopped caring about his opinion. Once, she had dreamed of following her mother into a respectable family, but the wealthy had only seen her as a diversion-a plaything they trampled on without remorse. Only Ethan had ever treated her as something more. . . .