?<strong>Chapter 1586:</strong>


    Though rage burned through her veins like liquid fire, Corrie maintained herposure by a thread as she got into her own car and followed.


    Upon reaching the restaurant, Corrie pulled into a spot just in time to watch Elyse and the others vanish through the entrance, not sparing her so much as a backward nce.


    White-hot anger surged through her as she silently cursed them all, but she swallowed her fury and quickened her pace to catch up.


    Stepping into the private dining room, Corrie donned a smile bright enough to rival stage lights, ying the role of gracious hostess as she guided them to their seats.


    “Elyse, order whatever you like,” she offered, her voice steady despite the tension. “I’ve wronged you in the past, and I want this meal to be my apology.”


    Elyse’s expression turned to ice.


    “Corrie,” Camille pounced like a cat toying with its prey, “how can you be so clueless? You’re the reason Elyse lost her baby, and you think one meal can wash away that pain?”


    Brook’s features hardened into granite. “Enough, Corrie! Haven’t you humiliated yourself enough? Just stop. You’re making aplete fool of yourself, and frankly, it’s embarrassing us all.”


    “I know I did wrong!” Corrie bristled like a cornered animal. “I’m trying to apologize. What’s so wrong with that?”


    Brook snapped back, “Is that how you apologize? You’re just twisting the knife in Elyse’s heart!”


    Elyse, who had been as still as a statue, finally spoke. Her voice cut through the air like a frozen de.


    “Corrie Bates, you seem to be misunderstanding something. There will never be any reconciliation between us. The only reason I haven’t thrown you out is that I’m trying to maintain some semnce of civility. Otherwise…”


    Her voice trailed off into the void, her expression as unyielding as marble.


    Jayden sat beside Elyse like a silent guardian, but when Corrie dared to part her lips, his gaze struck her with the force of a physical blow—venomous and threatening.


    Camille floated above the tension like a butterfly dancing through a thunderstorm, her sharine voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere.


    “Oh, Corrie, stop making such a fuss. You should feel lucky you’re even allowed at this table with us. Don’t push it. Why can’t you learn to be demure and proper—like myself?”


    She melted into Brook’s waiting arms. He cradled her close, fingers threading through her hair with deliberate tenderness.


    “You’re absolutely right, sweetie. You’re the epitome of grace.”


    “Shut up, bitch! Just who in heaven’s name do you think you are to dictate my behavior?”


    The words ripped from her throat as she fixed Camille with a look that could melt steel.


    Being belittled by the others was one thing, but Camille? The sheer audacity made her blood boil.


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