The Billionaire Who Stole My Heart novel Chapter 983

Ophelia was the epitome of grace in her sky-high stilettos, mingling among the guests with a smile that belied the searing pain in her heels. She had been enduring the discomfort all evening, but a moment of weakness had betrayed her to Jonathan.

Jonathan had always been headstrong.

Their families, observing the bond between them, turned a blind eye to the little indiscretions of young love.

Seeking solace in the sanctuary of a quiet lounge, Jonathan located a first-aid kit. He knelt before her, reaching out to tend to Ophelia's injured foot.

Ophelia flinched, instinctively pulling back. "Jonathan..."

There was no need for him to go to such lengths.

Jonathan, usually easygoing, could be imperious when he chose to be.

Ignoring her protests, he gently took her foot, removed her shoe, and with meticulous care, dabbed at the wound with a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic. He then applied a band-aid and handed her a pair of comfortable ballet flats. "Don't wear those shoes anymore. Put these on."

Ophelia frowned. "I can't possibly…"

Who ever heard of pairing a cocktail dress with flats?

"Ophelia, please," Jonathan urged, his grip firm yet tender on her ankle.

His touch was warm and persuasive. She found herself yielding without further objection.

Jonathan poured her a glass of honey water. "You've had quite a bit to drink. This will help."

"Why were you so harsh with Saskia?" Ophelia asked.

Jonathan was known for his kindness, rarely speaking ill of anyone. Especially Saskia.

It was a surprise to Ophelia.

"Was she the one I used to fancy?" Jonathan downed a glass of the sweet liquid, his voice laced with disbelief. "Hard to imagine I ever liked her."

Ophelia was puzzled.