Stand Me Up? I'll Marry His Billionaire Uncle novel Chapter 31

Tristan's office was practically soundproof; not a single word of Sunny's recent, heated outburst carried beyond those walls.

Sunny strode out with her head held high and shoulders squared, so self-assured that even Secretary Chase stopped and stared.

Was that it? Just like that?

Shouldn't she be moping, wilted like a flower in frost?

Did Mr. Lawson really let her off the hook? Was he suddenly the picture of restraint?

What Chase didn't know was that Mr. Lawson hadn't held back—he simply couldn't out-argue her.

As Sunny stood by the elevator, the sting on her neck flared up again, her earlier adrenaline rush fading into a fresh burn.

She grumbled inwardly—What's wrong with Tristan's eyes?

Blind, obviously.

A bitter smile flickered at her lips. But she was no better—chasing after a man who never cared for her. If that wasn't blindness, what was?

—

Long after Sunny left, Tristan's office was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Finally, he exhaled a tense breath. "Luna, don't let it get to you. She's always been like this—sharp-tongued, impossible to reason with. Don't worry, I won't let her get away with it."

"This isn't over."

With that, Tristan dialed Mr. Carrington's number.

But even without Tristan stirring the pot, Chloe was already at her father's company, sobbing until her tears ran dry.

"Dad, are you going to let Sunny get away with this? Look at my neck, my collarbone—they're all red!"

"Dad, look at this blister! The doctor said I need at least two weeks for it to heal!"

Grace Quinn's heart ached as she looked at her stepdaughter.

Was this girl trying to ruin her daughter's looks?

"Sean, every time Chloe and Sunny have squabbled, I've always taken Sunny's side. But this time, Sunny went too far. Chloe's a young woman—she'll want to marry one day."

Beneath her words, the implication was clear: Sunny was vicious.

Sean's expression darkened. "That ungrateful girl. Just wait—I'll call her right now."

Tristan answered for her, calm and detached. "Yeah, Mom. Luna burned herself."

Magnus frowned, puzzled. "How'd you manage to burn yourself there?"

His gaze darkened, voice turning stern. "Luna, show your mother. Let her put some ointment on it."

Luna's throat tightened.

She could tell her father had misunderstood.

Sure enough, her mother's look turned suspicious, too.

She bit her lip, feeling a sting of injustice.

When did I become so distrusted in my own home?

Tristan seemed to catch on, irritation flashing in his eyes. "Mom, Dad, what are you thinking? Luna got burned—I wouldn't lie to you about that."

"See, it's not that we don't believe you. But burns shouldn't be covered up," Annabelle replied.

Luna's eyes glistened with unshed tears. After a pause, she nodded. "Alright, Mom. Would you mind helping me put on some more ointment?"