Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 128: Dinner at Noah’s V

"Please everyone, have your seats. Let’s have dinner."

Gianna distinctly heard Isaac speak, his voice cutting cleanly through the room with the ease of command—but she remained rooted to the ground, her mind still tangled tightly around his earlier question, unable to move past it.

What did he mean by that?

Didn’t he know her parents were late? That her grandfather was gone too? 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The thought sat heavy in her chest, confusing, unsettling.

She barely felt Noah’s hand slip around her waist again, grounding and warm, tugging her gently toward her seat.

He pulled the chair out with practiced courtesy, guiding her down with a hand at her back, easing her into the seat before settling into his own beside her, as though everything were perfectly normal.

She barely registered Mason taking the seat on her right, effectively intercepting Sarah, who had been clearly aiming for that spot—to Esme’s visible chagrin.

Neither did Gianna notice the hostile looks that passed silently between Mason and Noah...

Her old man?

That was the thought she kept circling back to, worrying it like a loose thread, until Noah finally spoke.

"Grandfather, my fiancée’s parents are late... I’m sure you were aware of that."

Relief brushed her nerves as she felt him reach for her hand beneath the table, his fingers lacing with hers in a quiet show of solidarity.

She would have leaned over and kissed him for his thoughtfulness if not for the people seated around the table—waiting to eat, or perhaps waiting for her to speak.

Gianna lifted her gaze to Isaac’s face, searching for confusion, forgetfulness, even remorse.

She found none.

Instead, the old man raised a single brow.

"I am aware of that," Isaac said calmly. "Forgive me—I didn’t phrase the question well."

Gianna wasn’t entirely sure what she saw in his eyes then, but she schooled her expression carefully, determined not to let her emotions bleed through—not here, not now, and especially not with Esme sitting within arm’s reach.

"I was actually asking about my old friend, Edward Thorne," Isaac continued. "I heard you stay with him, so I thought he adopted you—considering your close relationship with his granddaughter."

Gianna released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her shoulders easing as understanding finally settled in.

"He is fine," she replied softly. "And so is everyone."

Isaac nodded slowly, satisfied, then gestured toward the impressive spread before them.

"Let’s dig in then, as we talk. Esme, say the grace."

Gianna bit back a smile when she saw Esme snap her head toward her grandfather, annoyance flashing briefly across her face before vanishing just as quickly.

The old man didn’t say anything else to her. He didn’t even look her way. Instead, he clasped his hands together in a prayer-like fashion and closed his eyes.

Gianna caught Esme’s gaze and winked.

The smile finally broke free as Gianna closed her own eyes, her lips curving wider with every pause Esme made while murmuring the prayer—so croaky that no one could even make out the exact words.

When Esme finally ended the prayer, no one realized it at first.

"I am done!" she announced sharply.

Gianna knew she was enjoying herself far too much when Isaac opened his eyes and fixed his granddaughter with a glare.

"What was the meaning of that?" he asked. "And what is wrong with you today? You’re usually chirpier than this at family dinners."

Gianna half expected Esme to point her out as the source of the problem, but instead Esme muttered something about a rough day at work and promptly buried her face in her food.

Isaac didn’t let her off so easily.

"I asked you a question before our lady here interrupted," he said coolly. "Do you have an issue with Gianna Aldo? You’d better say it now so it can be resolved. Because it seems your brother is intent on marrying—and I like her too, so I’m giving my consent."

Gianna calmly freed her cutlery from the napkin binding it together, her movements unhurried.

Noah was already serving her food, dishing onto her plate as though this were an ordinary dinner, as though his sister wasn’t being dissected just a few seats away.

She had almost forgotten Mason was beside her until he spoke, a light chuckle preceding his words.

"Grandfather, she’s just jealous that Gianna is a better designer."

"Mason!" Esme shouted, fury finally tearing through her composure, disbelief blazing in her eyes.

Was this because of the interview? Was that why he’d been ignoring her calls?

Yet... how was that her fault?

Esme hurled curses at Gianna in her mind, violent and unchecked. This woman was disrupting everything good in her life. Everything.

"Esme, I suggest you keep your tone low," her father said gently. "We are at the dining table."

Her fists clenched beneath the table, knuckles white, tears burning fiercely behind her eyes. She was always the center of attention at dinners like this—she was the only young lady.

And this was the first one her brother had attended in years...

She should have been ecstatic.

But with Gianna here, everything was already splintering apart.

"Esme, is that true?"

Esme said nothing—until Isaac’s gaze sharpened on her like a blade.

"No," she said stiffly. "We just don’t flow together, I guess. Different backgrounds."

Arthur scoffed, twirling tomato-sauced spaghetti around his fork. "Anything that floats your boat, young lady."

Then, turning to his father, he added, "Let’s leave these women to their devices. We’re here to celebrate a possible wedding, aren’t we? Let’s not bore our guest."

His wife, seated beside him in a flowing black gown, nodded in agreement. "And isn’t she the one who’s brought more light to our company..."

Esme saw red.

She wanted to stand up. To leave. To disappear. But she knew that would be tantamount to asking for punishment.

Instead, she gripped her fork tightly and stabbed into her food, shame weighing heavier than anger—because her parents hadn’t defended her.

But why would they? The Becketts had helped them.

And her brother—

She blinked hard, forcing the tears back.

To hell with all of them.

Gianna was a better designer?

Tsk.

She would prove she was the best—while making sure Gianna paid for every ounce of this humiliation.

The promise loosened the tight grip around her chest slightly, and when she lifted her gaze and met Gianna’s laughing eyes, she forced a smile and winked at her nemesis.