CHAPTER 191: THE LINE BETWEEN SONS

One glance from Isabella, and Seraphina shut her mouth, as if she suddenly remembered she shouldn’t have mentioned Damien’s name.

But Aveline, though silent, appeared composed to Seraphina’s eyes.

Had she failed to trigger Aveline?

For Aveline, the evening pressed on. Everyone resumed their conversations, chatting casually. Isabella and Margaret moved to lighter topics while Edward, Charles, and Henry discussed the downfall of a business company.

Giselle, Elara, and Alaric were engaged in their own discussion, yet Aveline felt like sand slipping through her fingers, unable to push Damien from her mind and focus on the afternoon tea.

She had arranged every detail, carved beauty into every corner of the gathering, but now she stood quietly, a spectator while laughter and conversations flowed around her. The joy she had cultivated seemed to belong to everyone but herself.

Alaric leaned closer, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "You’ve gone quiet."

She forced a faint smile, meeting his eyes. "I’m just..." she searched for the right word, "letting them enjoy. That’s what matters."

His gaze lingered on her face. It was sharp enough to see that she was disturbed, yet tender enough to offer comfort. "That’s not what I asked, Sunshine."

"I’ll be fine," she murmured, deflecting gently.

"Then at least let me be the one you lean on," he said, his words anchoring her even as part of her drifted away from the moment.

The thought struck her suddenly: what if she began seeing Damien’s face when she looked at Alaric?

If that happened, she would never be able to be around Alaric as if nothing had changed. The new life she was trying to build would crumble instantly.

She offered him another faint smile, but she didn’t lean into his comfort. Her unease remained, quietly pulling her away from his warmth.

She found herself standing in a daze, everything around her blurring.

Seraphina hadn’t said much more, but that single word had been enough to scatter Aveline’s peace of mind.

Aveline snapped back to reality when someone suggested a tour of the penthouse. She didn’t register who had made the suggestion. Rising with practiced composure, she guided them through the hallways.

The echo of her footsteps seemed to carry more presence than she felt within herself.

"This section was newly renovated," Aveline explained, as she had with the other rooms.

Excluding Elara, who ran into every room, the rest merely glanced inside. Margaret stepped into the walk-in closet and sighed with satisfaction. "Finally, our daughter has proper space for her belongings. Lina, I’ll send your things over tomorrow."

Alaric glanced at Aveline before responding calmly, "Thank you, Mrs. Laurent. Housekeeper Martha will handle the arrangements." Aveline would be out from the afternoon until midnight for an event.

His gentle touch on her arm startled her from her thoughts. She guided them downstairs, showed them the study, then moved toward the fully equipped gym.

In the gym, her steps faltered. A full section of the wall gleamed with mirrors, the floor cleared and polished specifically for ballet practice. She hadn’t been aware of this renovation.

Standing there, her reflection stared back at her, carrying all her unspoken turmoil. She was caught between gratitude and the persistent uneasiness in her mind.

"Aveline knows ballet?" Giselle voiced, surprised.

Elara perked up when she heard her mother. "I love ballet! I had my class on the way here."

Henry was impressed that Alaric had learned about her interests. "Lina, since you’ve stopped drinking coffee, you should start practicing again in your free time." He knew how much she had once loved ballet.

Alaric frowned when he heard Henry connect coffee with dance. It reminded him of the two empty cups she had consumed in less than half an hour, and her mention of having a coffee addiction.

He realized that memories of Damien were driving her back toward coffee. He wouldn’t mind if she drank coffee, but addiction was concerning.

"Wow..." Elara exclaimed when she understood that Aveline knew ballet. "Aunt Aveline, can we practice together?"

Aveline gently tapped the girl’s nose. "Of course."

But she didn’t know how to tell her father that she was craving coffee and barely managing to resist. She had been so stressed while dealing with Damien about the divorce. Now he was haunting her thoughts in a way she didn’t know how to escape.

Elara was thrilled to hear Aveline’s positive response. "Mom, my shoes are in the car. I’ll get them." She turned to run out.

"No, sweetheart," Giselle was quick to catch her daughter. "Not today. We’ll plan another day with Aunt Aveline." She tried to convince Elara.

However, Aveline didn’t want the excitement and smile to fade from the little girl’s face. "It’s perfectly fine. I would love to dance with Elara."

She welcomed the distraction, and what could be better than dancing with a child whose innocent presence couldn’t possibly remind her of Damien?

"Yay!" Elara squealed excitedly.

They returned to the living room just as Isabella’s secretary arrived, carrying a file and a jewelry box.

The file contained a list of apartments and villas. Isabella had planned to use it to pressure Nicholas and Seraphina into moving out of the mansion to live independently. But Nicholas had skipped the event.

Instead, Isabella took the jewelry box, her smile composed as she turned to Aveline. "A small token," she said, offering it. "For standing by my son, for being at his side when it mattered most."

Alaric’s eyes narrowed at his mother. The phrase ’my son’ from her lips tasted nothing but bitter.

Aveline hesitated. She didn’t lack for anything, and she certainly didn’t need a reward for standing by Alaric.

Isabella sensed Aveline’s hesitation. "Please." Her voice was warm, assured. "It would make me happy if you accepted it."

Isabella was pleased to have smoothed her relationship with Aveline, and she wanted to mark the occasion with a gift. After much consideration, she had chosen this piece.

With no graceful way to refuse, Aveline accepted, murmuring her thanks. She was about to set it aside when Isabella’s gentle insistence followed. "Please, take a look." If Aveline didn’t like it, she would be happy to find something else.

Aveline lifted the lid of the velvet box, and her breath caught. Inside lay a vintage royal piece, a priceless brooch that carried the legacy of the De’Conti family.

As a Laurent, Aveline was accustomed to valuable heirlooms. She had even read about this particular brooch.

Across the room, Seraphina’s eyes darkened. She had been adorned with jewelry, yes, but nothing that bore such love and meaning. Nothing beyond the transactional.

And here, with a single gift, Isabella drew a clear line. Nicholas had support, but Alaric had her truest blessing, and so did the woman he chose.

Alaric was stunned as well. It was the brooch that had been passed down to Isabella from her grandmother. More than an antique, it was a legacy and Isabella’s faith in his relationship with Aveline.

But wait... shouldn’t she be giving this to Nicholas and his wife?

Alaric couldn’t help wondering if Isabella had some ulterior motive.

Aveline’s chest tightened. She closed the box gently, returning it with both hands.

"I’m sorry, Mrs. Lancaster. This isn’t the right time for me to receive this. I’ll gladly accept it when I truly deserve it. For now... it would only feel like undue pressure."

She was already struggling with thoughts of Damien disrupting her relationship with Alaric. She wouldn’t want another weighty symbol adding pressure to what they were building.

Seraphina watched this exchange with growing resentment. ’Look at her playing humble,’ she thought bitterly. ’As if she didn’t want it when her eyes clearly lit up at the sight of that brooch. What a performance to impress the Lancasters.’

The Laurents had an extensive collection of vintage jewelry and precious stones, so Seraphina assumed Aveline must be dying to possess the brooch.

Isabella parted her lips to insist, but Edward’s hand rested on her shoulder. "It’s quite alright, Aveline. We understand," he said, taking the box from Aveline’s hands.

But Isabella didn’t want to leave empty-handed. She looked around, and her gaze landed on the file her secretary held.

She took the file from her secretary and flipped through the pages. With a swift decision, she declared, "Register this villa in Aveline’s name first thing Monday morning." She instructed her secretary.

The room fell silent.

Aveline’s instinct was to protest, but Margaret stepped in with a gracious smile. "That’s very generous of you, Mrs. Lancaster." She didn’t want to decline Isabella’s well-intentioned gesture.

Aveline turned to her mother in confusion, only to hear Henry’s quiet assurance: "I’ll handle the arrangements for you."

To Henry, it was practical. Another property to manage, another source of income.

To Seraphina, it was another dagger twisting in her heart.

She realized why Isabella continued working despite her age and the Lancaster family’s wealth. She didn’t need to ask Edward for money when she decided to buy Aveline a villa.

Financial independence.

Her gaze then narrowed on Margaret, a housewife dependent on her husband.

’Generous?’ she thought venomously. ’Who gives away a villa out of mere kindness?’ She studied Aveline’s expression, noting she didn’t seem excited about the gift. ’Yet luck always, always bends in her favor.’ She gritted her teeth.

Seraphina’s nails dug into her palms as hatred consumed her. Damien’s name hadn’t shattered Aveline. Everything seemed to fall into Aveline’s lap as though fate itself conspired to protect her.

’I won’t stop until you break completely, Aveline Laurent,’ Seraphina swore to herself.