Blizzard, First Love and a Wife Who Finally Snaps novel Chapter 155

Isabel and Evelyn left the small balcony.

Evelyn said, “Go sit over there for a bit and get something to eat. The desserts are excellent, and more importantly, they’re low-calorie.”

Isabel nodded, gathered the hem of her dress, and made her way to a quiet corner. She picked out a few pastries and settled onto a sofa.

Evelyn found Richard and was immediately surrounded by a crowd of people.

“You still have the nerve to eat.”

The sound of his voice was grating. Isabel ignored him.

Adrian grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet, and tossed the dessert in her hand aside. “Come with me.”

Isabel struggled. “What’s the point of me going with you now, Mr. Blackwell? Mrs. Richard saw you with her own eyes, abandoning your wife to chase after another woman.”

“And whose fault is that?” Adrian kept his voice low, conscious of their surroundings. “If you had just said a few kind words, would she have run out like that? We’re in a foreign country. If something happened to her, could you take responsibility?”

Isabel scoffed. “And I suppose I’m back home, am I?”

Adrian shot back, “What danger could you possibly be in inside a ballroom?”

Isabel gave up arguing and allowed him to pull her over to where the Richards were standing.

Richard was noticeably cooler toward Adrian. “Is your sister all settled, Mr. Blackwell?”

In Westbridge, Adrian was a king, but here, he had to be more diplomatic.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of Richard or feared the deal falling through.

He had his ways of answering to the Blackwell Group.

But if he could make a friend, there was no need to make an enemy and create unnecessary trouble.

“It was my sister’s fault for being impetuous. My apologies.”

Richard said nothing, simply inviting his wife to dance.

Adrian pulled Isabel onto the dance floor. As if remembering something, he frowned and asked, “Do you know how to dance?”

Isabel did.

After her mother brought her to Westbridge, she had learned all the requisite skills of a wealthy heiress—etiquette, ballroom dancing, piano, and so on.

But Adrian’s condescending tone annoyed her. “No,” she said coldly.

As if he had expected it, Adrian placed a hand on her slender waist. “Follow my lead.”

Isabel had no desire to dance. “Go get Selena.”

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