York’s gaze remained fixed on the first-floor ballroom below.
“You are you, and I am I,” he said. “My relationship with Claudia is different from yours.”
Peter let out a dry laugh. “Oh, you see that now, do you? When Ann was still around, I don’t recall you being particularly special to Claudia.”
York’s grip on his glass tightened until his knuckles went white.
Peter pressed on. “You favored Ann far more than Claudia back then. You were even willing to entertain the idea of having them both.”
Seeing York’s face drain of color as he clutched his chest, looking like he was about to collapse, Peter finally shut up.
Down on the first floor, Claudia made a breathtaking entrance on Gideon’s arm, wearing a white satin, strapless, cinched-waist evening gown.
As the crowd took her in, Claudia subtly scanned the scene of the Quinn family's private dinner. The place dripped with extravagance. It seemed the patriarch’s new, third wife was deeply favored.
Her eyes unintentionally met Celia Hawk’s from across the room. The strange smile on Celia’s lips sent a shiver down Claudia’s spine.
Just then, a middle-aged man in a suit came over and pulled Gideon away. Before leaving, Gideon reminded Claudia that Peter was on the second floor.
Claudia knew Gideon was worried about her being alone and gave him a reassuring nod. “Go on, Gideon. I’ll be fine on my own.”
After Gideon left, Claudia found a quiet corner to herself. A moment later, she saw Ann's brother and sister-in-law, looking surprisingly respectable in their formal wear, approaching her with Celia. Claudia’s heart sank.
As the trio closed in, Claudia’s eyes narrowed defensively. “What are you all doing here?”
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