eting Nathalie Zorken for the second ti was unlike the first.
In Zoren’s original tiline, their eting was brief. Only a few words were exchanged before gunshots echoed in the air. But in this tiline, here they were, seated across from each other, the steam of hot, aromatic tea wafting through their nostrils. Cupcakes, muffins, and other snacks adorned the table, making it look like a casual etup.
The only things that hinted this wasn’t just a casual tea ti were the ard n surrounding the pavilion and a strange, faint yet distinct, foul stench in the air.
Zoren fluttered his dark eyelashes, eting the sa dark eyes mirroring him.
Across from him sat a middle-aged woman who showed no signs of aging. There were no visible wrinkles or fine lines, and her hair was styled in a retro pin-up victory curl. Red lips, a naturally contoured small face, and a distinct beauty mark on her right eyelid completed her look.
A tiless beauty, indeed.
It was just that this beauty was barely skin deep. Inside, she was as rotten as she was beautiful.
"Zoren." Finally, Nathalie spoke, her dark eyes studying the young man across from her. "Surely, Naylani is terrible at coming up with nas. Zoren—Zorken—and here I thought she loathed the Zorken Family."
Zoren didn’t answer, just stared at her.
Even in this lifeti, she was telling him the sa thing she had initially said in their previous life, only under different circumstances.
The corner of Nathalie’s mouth curled into a smirk. "I suppose you already knew all the lies I told you."
His mouth remained a thin line.
"Bold of you to co here all alone," she continued as she reached for the teacup in front of her. "I wonder where this confidence cos from? Is it because you carry the mories of the past?"
She paused, her teacup hovering just before her red lips, her eyes gazing at him over the rim, her brow arched.
"Or is it because you think the result in this tiline will be the sa as the first one?" she added before taking a leisurely sip.
Zoren still didn’t answer, remaining quiet. A smile took over her face as she placed her cup down, leaving a bit of her lipstick on the porcelain.
"I didn’t know you ca here just to look at ," she humored. "Why? Do I remind you of your mother? Are you wondering what it would be like if she were here instead of ?"
Nathalie nodded at him. "Out of the goodness of my heart, I’ll offer you my ear. You can say everything you wanted to tell your mother. I promise I won’t tell anyone."
Still, Zoren said nothing. Not because he didn’t know what to tell her, but because what he wanted to say had already been told in their first life.
However, he did have a question for Naylani, if only she were here.
Nathalie tilted her head to the side, assessing the young man who wouldn’t budge or speak. What was the point of his coming here? But then again, she wasn’t surprised. Why would she be? It wasn’t like Zoren was the type to indulge in such pleasantries and small talk.
"Hmm..." she humd, leaning back as she studied him. Much to his surprise, what ca out of her sinful mouth next was sothing he didn’t expect.
"She loved him," she said. "Naylani—she loved your father, Enzo Pierson."
His brows crinkled slightly while she smiled at his brief, subtle reaction. That was the first. So, Nathalie continued.
"Your mother is a fool. She could’ve gotten everything she wanted in this world. Wealth... power... she could’ve gotten everything," she humd, tapping her index finger on the armrest. "I must admit, I wasn’t sure who would win between us. Naylani is truly sothing. No matter how much I sche and trap her, she just keeps crawling back to her feet— too persistent, too annoying."
"Even so, I give credit where credit is due," she added. "Did I think she would win? Naturally. So, why did she die at my feet?"
Nathalie leaned her face slightly as she dawdled with her next words. "It’s because she is a fool for a man. So, I believe it’s not who killed her; it is you and your father who killed Naylani Zorken."
Maybe she was telling the truth, Zoren thought. Or maybe, she was bluffing—giving him what he wanted to hear.
After all, Zoren only had one question for the real Naylani: did she love Enzo Pierson?
He didn’t want or need to know if she loved her son because Zoren had no emotional attachnt to this mother of his. Even if he found out that the Naylani who raised him in his previous life was an impostor, he still couldn’t find the love he could’ve had for his real mother.
He didn’t know her.
Naylani, for him, was simply a person. A person who had given birth to him, but he and Naylani didn’t have the chance to even form that bond, where it would hurt him, make him happy, sad, or even long for her.
However, Enzo Pierson was a different case. Zoren respected his father and looked up to him. So, having Jonathan tarnish Enzo’s na by claiming to be his bastard had always been a fuel of resentnt Zoren had suppressed for a long ti. Had it not been for Penny and the Bennet Family, Zoren would’ve recklessly dealt with Jonathan.
Zoren blinked as a calm breath slipped past his nostrils. "Did it hurt you, Nathalie?"
Her smile remained, but her brows crinkled a bit. "Hurt ?"
"That Naylani chose Enzo Pierson over you?" he clarified. "In two lifetis, she had fallen in love with the sa man, and she chose him for both lifetis instead of choosing to indulge with you."
He paused, leaning his arms against the table. His thick brows rose slightly, intrigue and mockery gleaming in his dark eyes as he tilted his head a little.
"For you, who had been giving her all and making her death your goal, how did that feel?"
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