?Chapter 631:


    Before Corrine could respond, a shadow blurred her vision. Looking up, she found Jules standing in front of her, his presence acting as a shield between her and the approaching danger.


    “Corrine is a delicate flower, barely strong enough to lift a finger, let alone harm anyone,” Jules remarked coolly.


    “This is merely a coincidence. She doesn’t deserve your attention.” His voice carried the weight of certainty, as if downying the entire exchange.


    Nearby, Moses couldn’t suppress a low chuckle.


    A delicate flower? Barely able to lift a finger?


    Few in the world could truly hope to challenge Andromache’s prowess. Her bodyguards were well-trained, but Andromache herself was no novice when it came to fighting.


    What had seemed like an idental spill of wine and an overturned te was anything but. The knife had flown with unnerving precision—clearly aimed at Corrine.


    And yet, she had stayedposed, using nothing but a te to deflect the strike. It was evident that Corrine was more than just a pretty face.


    Moses, now intrigued, wondered where Corrine had acquired such skills.


    How had he never heard of the Ford family hiding such a formidable individual?


    “Damn… Corrine…” Moses began, ready to shower Corrine with praise. But Nate slowly turned toward Moses, his presence enough to send a chill through the room. His eyes locked onto Moses with unyielding intensity.


    Moses stopped in his tracks, swallowing the rest of his words. The tension in the air was palpable.


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    The room fell into an eerie silence, thick with unspoken thoughts.


    Breaking the stillness, Corrine’s voice was calm andposed.


    “While the wound isn’t fatal, Ms. Hopkins, you really should get that treated. It would be best to handle it before it worsens.”


    Andromache’s eyes narrowed, but her smile remained intact, though now it carried a dangerous edge.


    “How considerate of you, Miss Hond. I appreciate your concern.”


    With that, she turned and strode away, her steps measured and deliberate.


    As she neared the door, there was a brief flicker of hesitation—a momentary stumble. But her eyes, cold with determination, betrayed no fear.


    Her hand clenched at her side, crimson nails digging into her palm, drawing blood.


    She had thought that Nate had found a simple woman in Corrine, someone easily controlled. But Corrine had proven herself far tougher than expected.


    Andromache, however, reveled in the challenge. She had always found great pleasure in bringing down the strong-willed.


    She knew it was only a matter of time before she made Corrine pay for her defiance.


    After Andromache left, the suffocating tension in the room slowly began to ease, like air gradually escaping from a pressurized chamber.


    Henley wasted no time, instructing the staff to clear away the shattered pieces on the floor and rece the tableware for Corrine and Nate.


    As the two settled back into their seats, their gazes met for a brief moment—just long enough for unspoken emotions to flicker between them—before they both instinctively looked away.


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