Julius narrowed his eyes, a frown creasing his brow. He recognized the sarcasm in her words.
What was Janina's game?
She wasn't crying or yelling at his accusation; she was just… calm.
Just before this, she had been threatening divorce over Yvonne, and they had been locked in a cold war for days.
Even last night, he could feel the anger radiating off her.
Now, she was this detached.
"Hah. Playing the long game, are we?"
Understanding her supposed tactic, Julius sneered and said to Yvonne, "Don't mind her. Let's go."
With that, Julius turned and walked away.
Yvonne shot a look at Janina, then gave a gracious, elegant smile. "Well, Miss Holt, you should get that hand looked at." Then she hurried after Julius.
The maid, still bewildered by the whole exchange, looked at Janina's bleeding hand with concern. "Ma'am, why must you do this? Getting angry is one thing, but to go this far…"
"I wasn't angry. I just slipped and cut myself. I'm going to get it treated," Janina said, wincing from the pain.
She was done obsessing over Julius. Done waiting for him to throw her scraps of affection. And she certainly wasn't going to waste her anger on him and Yvonne.
What he did, who he was with—none of it had anything to do with her anymore.
All she had to do was play the role of the dutiful wife for one more night. As long as he agreed to the divorce, everything else was just noise.
After getting her hand bandaged, Janina returned to the reception hall. She didn't know anyone, and she was starting to get hungry, so she went to the dessert table and picked up a small cake.
Luckily, it wasn't her right hand that was injured.
From a distance, Julius watched her, his handsome brow furrowed in thought.
He had expected Janina to make a scene, to confront Yvonne, maybe even drag his grandfather into it to lecture Yvonne.
If she had thrown a fit like that, he had been fully prepared to teach her a harsh lesson.


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