SMR | Chapter 77

 ~Chapter 77~

“It’s not that kind of interest.” Cedric said firmly.

“Don’t lie to yourself. If you weren’t staring at her like you wanted to kill her, then it definitely was that kind of interest.” Edgar replied with a teasing grin.

Cedric shook his head with frustration. Edgar wasn’t going to change his mind no matter what he said. Not when he had that smug smirk on his face and a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

But still—why had Harriet worn that dress?

He couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Annoyed at himself, annoyed at Edgar, and above all, annoyed at Harriet.

He didn’t like that he was reacting this way.

He wasn’t supposed to look at her. He wasn’t supposed to notice. But the moment she entered the ballroom, all soft pastel pink and shimmering layers of tulle, he did notice. How could he not?

It was because she looked so different tonight. Harriet usually wore mature and composed dresses—elegant, maybe with a subtle boldness. But tonight, she was wearing a pink tulle gown with delicate layers and ruffles, the kind of dress straight out of a fairy tale.

It wasn’t his taste at all. Or so he thought.

But somehow, wrapped in that soft, slightly muted pink hue, Harriet had turned her head toward him, and when their eyes met, everything changed. For the first time, he understood why women liked dresses like that.

She’s… beautiful.

The firm jawline, the sharp eyes, even the confident way she held herself—tonight, they all looked gentler, sweeter. She reminded him of the delicate sugar figurines that sat inside the glass displays of fancy cake shops at the end of the year.

When she greeted Daphne, Cedric had kept watching. He kept searching her face, trying to find the stubborn girl he was used to. But the Harriet he knew seemed to shimmer away like mist.

It’s just surprise, he told himself. Just curiosity. That’s all.

But Edgar had noticed. Of course, he had. Cedric had let his guard down, and Edgar, like a hawk, had spotted it.

Maybe that was why they were such close friends. Edgar had an eye for what others missed—and a mouth that never stayed shut.

“Stop smiling like that,” Cedric snapped.

“What, I can’t smile now?” Edgar replied, clearly enjoying himself.

“It’s not what you think.”

“It’s exactly what I think.”

Cedric knew the argument was a lost cause. He always lost to Edgar’s teasing. He gave up with a sigh, rubbing his temple as if that could erase the fluster creeping up his neck.

Luckily, the music began to play. The orchestra started the opening waltz, and the guests turned toward the dance floor in anticipation.

“That’s odd,” Edgar murmured. “Nobody’s asked Daphne yet.”

The first dance was usually opened by the star of the evening. Tonight, that was supposed to be Daphne. But strangely, no one approached her. Daphne stood alone, elegant, graceful—but clearly waiting. No partner had stepped forward. There didn’t seem to be a prearranged escort for her either.

Almost like they were expecting it, Count and Countess Laurel stepped forward onto the dance floor. As the official hosts, it made sense. But everyone remembered how, in the past, Daphne would always start the evening with James.

Cedric tilted his head. “If this party was meant to fix Daphne’s image, someone should’ve stepped up to dance with her.”

Before he could say more, Edgar was already walking toward Daphne. Without hesitation, he bowed deeply and extended his hand.

“If it’s not too bold, would you honor me with your first dance, Lady Daphne?”

All eyes turned toward them. Whispers flitted through the air. Cedric muttered under his breath.

“What the hell is he up to now…?”

But Daphne smiled. Not a forced, polite smile—but a real one.

“Lead me,” she said softly, placing her hand in his.

And just like that, they were dancing.

It wasn’t just elegant—it was spellbinding. Edgar moved like he’d rehearsed for this moment his entire life. He guided Daphne with ease, never overstepping, never faltering. The crowd was charmed.

Harriet narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched.

He’s no ordinary man.

At first, his friendly smile and overly familiar chatter had seemed suspicious. But now, Harriet was sure—he wasn’t just a careless flirt. He knew exactly what he was doing. He aimed for the places no one dared to touch and used his charm to hide the blade.

Of course he’s Cedric’s friend. Ordinary people don’t end up beside someone like Cedric Kailas.

She gave a small smile.

And in that moment, Cedric looked at her again—just as she smiled at Edgar. The napkin in his hand crumpled beyond his recognition.

***

But Cedric wasn’t the only man struggling to look away from someone tonight.

Adam stood frozen, jaw slightly slack.

Is that… Viviana Delus?

He blinked once. Twice. Three times. But the image didn’t change.

There she was—Viviana. Laughing, smiling, surrounded by new faces, making light conversation like she belonged here.

That can’t be the same girl who used to stare at me from behind Bella like a mouse. The girl who caked on makeup to hide her breakouts, who clung to Bella’s side like a shadow.

She looked… different. Stunning, even.

Her skin was clear now, glowing even. Her makeup was light and natural. Her hair was glossy and curled, flowing like it had been done by a professional stylist. And the dress—fitted perfectly to flatter her curvier figure—made her stand out without trying too hard.

She’d abandoned the outdated styles Bella had dictated and chosen something that fit her. And she shone.

Adam didn’t like it.

This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

He had planned to confront her. The moment he would see her. He would tell her off—say she’d hurt Bella, that she had no right to speak to him, that she owed them both an apology.

He thought it would be easy. She’d be hiding in a corner, unwelcome and ignored. All he had to do was find her.

But instead, Viviana was thriving. Chatting. Dancing. Glowing.

Three dances already, he counted. Three different men had approached her, and each time she accepted gracefully.

What the hell is happening?

He couldn’t stand it. And then he saw something worse.

Harriet Listerwell. Helping Viviana. Offering her water. Steering her away from an overly persistent dance partner.

What is going on?

It made his blood boil.

So now she’s attached herself to Harriet? Adam fumed.

But what bothered him even more was that Viviana hadn’t looked his way once. Not even a glance. If she would just meet his eyes, he could signal her to come over. But no.

She used to stare at me like a lost puppy, he thought angrily.

Adam downed his champagne in one go. It was expensive, top-quality, probably one of the best blends he’d ever tasted—but he didn’t care.

He was too irritated. Too… uneasy.

Was it anger? Embarrassment? Jealousy?

He didn’t know.

Then, he saw her again.

Viviana waved goodbye to Harriet. “Don’t worry about me. See you later!” she called cheerfully.

Then she began walking. Toward the drinks table. Toward him.

Finally.

Adam smoothed his coat, raised his chin, and prepared himself. This was his moment. He would deliver his words calmly, sharply, or cruelly if he had to. He would show her that she couldn’t just walk back into society without consequences.

And he’d do it for Bella.

He practiced in his head.

“You think you can act like nothing happened? You hurt Bella. I never liked you. Go apologize to her.”

He would say it. She would cry. And maybe—maybe then he could move on.

But as Viviana approached—she walked right past him.

Didn’t look.

Didn’t pause.

Didn’t even see him.

It broke something inside.

Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Ah!”

Viviana gasped, startled. Her curled hair bounced as she spun around. And for the first time, Adam noticed—her eyes were mismatched.

One pale green. One soft blue.

She stared at him, shocked.

“Lord Hofner?” She asked like she didn’t recognize him.

But Adam didn’t answer.

Because for the first time since arriving, he was the one speechless.