Chapter 736
Over in a private room at Golden Restaurant, Sylvie took a sip of coffee cautiously as she sneaked a
glance at the man sitting opposite her.
He was wearing a lightweight black turtleneck and slacks. The metal lighter in his hand flickered
intermittently in his hand as he sat there quietly playing with it. It was as if he was living in his own
elegant void, unperturbed by the world.
A frown sat on Sylvie's brows when she glanced at him another time.
Sylvie had heard of the man's talent. It was him who had reminded her of her lines while they were
filming For Elise together.
He was able to ease into just any role within a short period of time.
She wondered how someone without a prominent family background like him managed to give people
the impression of an unapproachable aristocrat.
Has he always been this distant to everyone?
She tried to recall what things were like between them when they worked together, but her train of
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtthought was interrupted when the door swung open. The waiter ushered in Jack and Nathalia.
The glass in Sylvie's hand almost dropped the moment she saw Jack.
After experiencing Jack's atrocious cruelty herself, Sylvie had been traumatized.
She thought Jack had only asked her and Bruce there for a meal that day, but when she saw
Genevieve, she was afraid that Jack would give Genevieve the leeway to deal with her however she
liked.
Sylvie peeked at Bruce, who had not moved an inch at all ever since he came in, and felt assured.
Bruce had told her that he married her because he owed someone else a favor, so she figured that he
would not just sit idly by if anything happened to her.
When Jack and Nathalia came in, Armand looked at them and saw Nathalia's cold and languid gaze.
One glance was enough to dishearten Armand.
Nathalia sat down as if she did not see the other two people in the private room. She picked up the
menu, ordered seven to eight dishes, and flung the menu at Jack.
Jack was not interested in eating. Instead, he looked up at Nathalia and said, “You're not saying hi to
your old friends?”
Although he had heard the conversation between Cooper, Timothy, and the doctor from the listening
device, he still could not reconcile himself with the fact that Genevieve had developed a split
personality disorder, so he deliberately arranged for a meal with the people Genevieve was most
familiar with and hated the most.
Nathalia raised her head, sweeping her gaze between Sylvie and Armand. “What do they have to do
with me?” she scoffed.
Then, she called the waiter over and ordered a white peach cocktail.
“I'm sorry,” the young and charming waiter answered in a melodious voice. “Our restaurant doesn't
have a bartender. What about a canned cocktail?”
Nathalia glanced at him and reached for her bag, pulling out a stack of cash. “Get me one, then. I don't
take canned alcohol.”
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He stared at her for a moment before taking the money and going out.
Meanwhile, Sylvie had been observing Genevieve ever since she came in. She realized that her
fashion style, behavior, and diction were unusual.
She knew that Genevieve had been injected with some drug so she could not fall in love with men.
That was why she was unfazed even after spending so much time together with Jack, a debonair and
affluent nobleman. Thus, it made no sense for her to suddenly tease a mere waiter.
Is she trying to make Jack jealous?
Sylvie was still chewing on the question when she saw Jack's face was as severe as it could get. It
seemed as if Genevieve had exasperated him beyond measure.
Then, Genevieve turned the plate of fruits on the turntable to Jack. “Peel an orange for me,” she
demanded.
Jack did not like her tone, so he did not move. Instead, he lifted his hand and pointed at Sylvie. “She
killed Jane and almost killed Johanna. Do you not want to punish her? She's all yours, so you can kill
her. I'll take care of the body,” he promised.
Sylvie's body froze, and her face paled.
“Well, those who died are not related to me, so why should I avenge their deaths?” Nathalia asked. She
pursed her red lips in indifference as if she did not feel any hatred toward Sylvie.