Chapter 9

Marisol and Alinta finished their meal, chatted for a while, and then left. As they exited, muffled laughter still drifted from the private room across the hall—Andre's childish giggles being the most distinct of all.

Alinta shot a cautious glance at Marisol. Only when she saw that her friend's expression remained unreadable did she relax slightly—though her worry didn't lessen one bit.

This wasn't just a failing marriage. She'd witnessed firsthand how clingy Marisol's own son was with Nevaeh when the group arrived earlier. They were disgustingly affectionate.

It was no wonder Marisol had given up custody so readily when discussing the divorce.

Alinta hadn't pressed at the time, but she'd had her suspicions. For the first few years of Marisol's marriage, she'd often brought Andre along for visits—they'd even talked about Alinta becoming his godmother.

Then, over the past year or so, Marisol suddenly stopped bringing him along.

Whenever asked, she would claim he was busy with studies. Now, though, Alinta understood. The boy had likely already drifted from his mother by then.

However, if Marisol didn't want to talk about it, Alinta wouldn't pry. Some wounds were too raw to touch.

Truthfully, Alinta had never approved of Marisol's marriage to Lucian. Before or after the wedding, he'd never once bothered to enter Marisol's social circle and was indifferent to everyone she cared about.

Hell, Alinta made a point of introducing every boyfriend to her closest friends over meals. Yet Lucian had outright refused to engage with Marisol's world.

Seven years of marriage. Seven years as Marisol's best friend in Everton. And not once had Alinta met Lucian in private!

This much she understood as marriage was a private matter. What's more, he was the current head of Muller Group—a campus legend in his student days who had forced his own father out of power within seven years of taking over the company.

His ruthless reputation was well-earned, and now he was aggressively pushing into AI development with characteristically cutthroat efficiency.

Back in their university days, Alinta had been stunned when her best friend had somehow managed to win over this notoriously untouchable, merciless ice prince.

She hadn't approved then but assumed that the young heir simply looked down on their small social circle. All was fine as long as he treated Marisol well. But reality proved otherwise.

Now just a wall away, Marisol remained completely excluded from Lucian's world.

Remembering the public humiliation days earlier and then picturing the people in that private room—including her best friend's own son—made Alinta's head pound.

What kind of nightmare was this?

…

The two parted ways downstairs. Only after Alinta repeatedly nagged her to eat properly did Marisol return to Moira Studio. She worked until dawn and simply slept there.

Meanwhile, the Crimson Oaks Estate stood dark and empty—Lucian and Andre never returned that night.

The next morning, Marisol had barely started working when HR called. They'd found several senior developers willing to interview on weekends and asked if she wanted to come in and meet them.

Marisol agreed. She wanted to find a successor quickly so she could focus on her art and design work sooner.

After reviewing the resumes sent over, she only accepted one candidate who lived relatively close to the studio. She asked the HR department to schedule an afternoon interview at a nearby café, making it convenient for her to attend and grab a meal there too.

The studio's remote location made finding decent meals difficult.

At noon, Marisol headed over. She arrived early at the designated café to wait and have lunch.

Unexpectedly, the candidate was already there. It was a clean-cut young man who seemed eager. They exchanged greetings before sitting across from each other.

Marisol started by asking his coffee preference. After ordering, she got straight to business. "Let's begin with your self-introduction."

She picked up his resume from the table and began skimming it. When no response came after a while, she looked up in confusion to find him staring at her blankly.

"Is something wrong?"

Was there something on her face?

The young man's face flushed bright red.

"S-sorry, I didn't expect my potential team lead to be so... beautiful," he stammered awkwardly.

He'd been completely mesmerized.

Marisol chuckled. "Sweet talk won't substitute for technical skills."

"I know! I know!"

His ears were burning crimson now. The young man quickly regained his composure and delivered a concise three-minute self-introduction.

"William Quinley, that's a good name," said Marisol.

The earlier awkwardness actually helped lighten the mood.

After this casual compliment, Marisol proceeded to question him thoroughly about the technical aspects of his resume, the company's current tech stack, and management challenges. He answered fluently and even offered some constructive suggestions.

Just as she was about to wrap up with some final questions, she caught a familiar figure outside the window in her peripheral vision. Looking up, she froze in surprise.

She saw Lucian, Nevaeh, and Andre standing not far outside, looking in their direction. When William noticed Marisol staring silently out the window, he followed her gaze and was stunned all over again.

"What a gorgeous family."

Seeing the handsome man, beautiful woman, and equally lovely little boy together, he naturally assumed they were related. Noticing their intense focus on their table, he asked curiously, "Ms. Speight, do you know them?"

That was putting it lightly. Just as Marisol tore her eyes away to steer the conversation back to the interview, the café door swung open.

Andre dashed straight to her while shouting excitedly, "Mom!"

He hadn't missed her when they were apart, but the moment he saw her, a pang of longing hit him. Plus, guilt gnawed at him after avoiding her for days—so he'd bolted over the second he spotted her.

William was floored. Marisol looked so young and stunning, so he didn't expect her to have a kid!

Then came the crushing embarrassment. He'd mistaken the boy for someone else's child, and she hadn't corrected him!

Not to mention… His gaze drifted to Lucian and Nevaeh, who had followed Andre inside. His confusion deepened.

Were they Marisol's friends?

But the intimidating man bore an uncanny resemblance to the boy—especially those fox-like eyes that looked sharp and mocking. It was as if they could see right through him. They made William's scalp prickle and his blood run cold.

He quickly averted his gaze. Lucian glanced at William, then closed the distance with a few effortless strides.

"Working?" he asked Marisol lightly, reaching for the resume on the table.

Marisol ignored him. Freeing her hand from Andre's grip, she snatched the documents first.

Lucian's fingers closed on empty air. He paused, seemingly unfazed, and retracted his hand with an easy smile.

Nevaeh, who had been following behind, stepped closer to stand beside Lucian. She extended her hand toward Marisol with a bright smile. "Mari, long time no see."