Evander Lancaster took another drag of his cigarette, his handsome face leaning closer to the center of the poker table, and instinctively, Nicholas Croft and Felix Shaw also leaned in. This proved that men, when they start gossiping, are no better than women.
"There was this one time I saw Beatrice Hargrave, she..." Evander said in a deliberately lowered voice.
"Who’s talking behind my back?" With a loud thud, the door was pushed open with force. It was Beatrice Hargrave; her voice came before she stepped in, standing at the door, puffing her cheeks out, showing her displeasure all over her face.
The atmosphere became a bit awkward. The three men who were huddled together instinctively backed away and sat down, unsure of what to say, when they saw Titus Zane and Nathan Moore walk in.
The scene was too exaggerated, almost eye-wateringly so.
Titus Zane’s wrist was wrapped in thick bandages, looking as if he was wearing an oversized bracelet, and Nathan Moore was supporting him, holding Titus’s bandaged wrist up high, cautiously, as if he were assisting a pregnant woman about to give birth, even reminding him to be careful as they entered the room.
"Be careful, watch out, don’t bump into anything..."
Titus, meanwhile, wore a miserable expression, a visage of utter dejection.
..."Hey, sister-in-law, what happened? You got hurt just after leaving for a bit?" Evander stood up, a teasing greeting that skillfully dodged Beatrice’s questioning.
Titus glared resentfully at the man carefully supporting him, "It’s all his fault!"
"Did big brother get too carried away in the car and got his wrist caught in the door?" Felix also stood up, keenly asking, his expression normal with not a trace of jest.
He had been through a similar experience, playing around with Elizabeth White in the car after taking drugs. They got too excited and accidentally hurt Elizabeth’s wrist, nearly breaking it.
Nathan Moore gave a disapproving glance, only to hear Titus retort ungraciously.
"Do you think everyone’s like you!"
"So how did it happen?" Felix, still puzzled, as the injury Elizabeth had was also to her wrist.
Seeing how obtuse the two men were, Beatrice disdainfully interjected, "Sister Titus’s injury was from Uncle Nathan’s cigarette burn!"
Felix sat back down sheepishly, his handsome face displaying a mix of disgust and disdain.
Nicholas Croft, who had been silent, narrowed his eyes darkly, bringing the cigarette to his lips for a drag, then slowly exhaled the smoke.
Evander’s phoenix eyes gleamed with teasing amusement as he leaned back in his chair, took a drag of his cigarette, and slowly exhaled, "Sister-in-law, since when did you become so close with this young lady? She even calls you ’Sister Titus’..."
Titus was taken aback, sensing an uncomfortable premonition. All the men in the room, except Felix, were cunning; she didn’t know what they would think of Beatrice’s intimate way of addressing her.
Nathan Moore helped Titus sit down on the sofa, tidied the lock of hair in front of her behind her ear, and then adjusted Titus’s shawl, as if the conversation didn’t concern him in the slightest.
Beatrice was not affected by Evander’s words in the slightest, lifting her chin proudly and huffing at Evander, "Mind your own business! Sister Titus and I are on good terms! We’ve shared milk tea, and I’ve even given her my autograph!"
Her domineering attitude made it seem as if her signature was more precious than an imperial edict.
Evander’s eyes narrowed as he took a drag, exhaling and turning to Titus, "Sister-in-law, are you a fan of this girl?"
Before Titus could speak, Nathan said, "Keep your messy affairs away from my woman!"
Why did she feel like Nathan Moore was taking advantage of her?