Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 208: Engagement gift

In the capital city, both the Luther and Porter families stood as towering pillars among Arica’s elite aristocracy.

Their union through marriage naturally sent shockwaves through high society.

The engagent banquet was held at the Luther Family’s crown jewel—a lavish seven-star luxury hotel.

A pristine red carpet unfurled all the way to the entrance, flanked by hundreds of impeccably dressed attendants standing at attention.

Clearly, this was no ordinary event—the usually reserved Luther Family had thrown restraint to the wind, opting for unapologetic opulence.

At the hotel’s grand entrance, a select few dia outlets, handpicked for the occasion, had staked their positions along the red carpet early, caras poised and ready.

As the appointed hour drew near, a procession of ultra-luxury vehicles glided to a halt before the hotel.

Out stepped n in tailored suits and won draped in exquisite gowns, every gesture and expression polished to perfection, as if choreographed.

Guided by discreet hosts, they glided down the crimson pathway into the hotel.

The invited photographers seized the mont, capturing every angle with precision.

Any one of these guests would have been a rare sighting for the press on an ordinary day—the kind of figures they’d scramble over each other just to glimpse.

Hotel Lobby.

The massive LED screen displayed the intertwined histories of the Luther and Porter families.

Tyler stood amidst the crowd, dressed in an impeccably tailored white suit, a glass of red wine in hand.

His sharp, well-defined features, paired with the faint smile on his lips, made him appear even more striking than usual.

As the undeniable center of attention, he was surrounded by a steady stream of admirers offering flattering remarks.

With practice ease, he nodded and smiled in response, the genuine pleasure in his eyes betraying how much he relished being the object of everyone’s admiration.

On the other side of the room, Sandra was no different. For the engagent party, she had abandoned her usual preference for bold, vibrant colors, opting instead for an elegant white rmaid gown.

A matching set of pale green diamond jewelry adorned her, softening her usual dazzling allure with an air of refined grace.

Of course, there was another reason she had chosen this particular dress.

A faint chill flickered in Sandra’s eyes.

Surrounded by a cluster of young socialites her age, she listened as they tittered with practiced charm.

"Honestly, soone as beautiful as you could make anything look stunning."

"Simple dresses are the real test of elegance.

With your poise, Sandra, you’d outshine us no matter what you wore."

"Exactly.

Have you seen how the n can’t take their eyes off you?"

"What’s the use of being unable to look away?

Our Sandra will be spoken for after today."

Complints like these were nothing new to Sandra—she’d been hearing them since childhood.

Yet no matter how many tis she heard them, the sweet words never lost their charm.

The slight upward tilt of her eyes and the curve of her lips betrayed her quiet delight.

Just then, a woman in a striking red one-shoulder gown suddenly exclaid, "Sandra, isn’t this jewelry set John Rubel’s final masterpiece, ’Heart of Nature’?

It’s absolutely breathtaking."

"Indeed," Sandra replied, her crimson lips curling faintly.

"I originally had my sights set on the ’Heart of the Ocean,’ but soone had already secured it beforehand.

So, I settled for this set instead." Another round of flattery imdiately followed.

At that mont, a soft, lodious voice called out,

"Sandra—"

The group fell silent and turned toward the sound.

There stood lissa, radiant in a champagne-colored off-the-shoulder gown, holding a gift box as she approached with a warm smile.

Beside her stood an unfamiliar man. His chiseled features were set in a stern expression.

Even the simplest black suit couldn’t conceal his tall, athletic fra.

He brought to mind the phrase—a gentleman with a dangerous edge.

n like him, radiating rugged masculinity, always seed to draw won’s gazes no matter the occasion.

A flicker of admiration flashed through Sandra’s eyes.

The other young socialites also stole discreet glances at Vicente.

"Sandra, this is for you—a gift to celebrate your engagent."

Sandra,"

lissa handed the intricately crafted mirror case she had personally assembled to Sandra, her lips curving into a warm smile.

"This is my engagent gift for you. I hope you like it."

Though they had disagreed over the matter concerning Camilla, Sandra was still one of her few close friends.

That was why she had put so much thought into preparing this gift.

An engagent gift?

If only lissa had stood by her side against Camilla, she wouldn’t have been reduced to this—forced into an engagent with Tyler!

Sandra stared at lissa’s guileless, earnest face, and an inexplicable surge of anger simred in her chest.

She didn’t take the gift. Instead, her crimson lips curled into a cool, detached smile.

"lissa, all gifts are to be handed over to the butler at the entrance for safekeeping.

It’s the standard procedure."

Her words were faultless in etiquette, yet they carried an unmistakable chill—a deliberate distance.

The people around them were experts at reading the room.

In an instant, they grasped Sandra’s stance toward lissa.

But understanding didn’t an action.

After all, the Porter family wasn’t to be trifled with—and neither was the Taylor family.

Vicente stood nearby, his cold, indifferent eyes glinting as he overheard their conversation.

So much for this so-called friendship.

Sandra had clearly misunderstood.

lissa’s outstretched hand froze midair for a brief mont before she composed herself.

"The Taylor family’s gift has already been given to the butler," she said with a smile.

"This one is from personally."

"I even made it myself.

Go on, see if you like it."

"Of course I’d love anything you made," Sandra replied, her smile polished and gracious—yet she made no move to take it.

"But as you can see, my hands are full at the mont.

Let’s save it for after the engagent party."

lissa no longer held any value to her, and she couldn’t be bothered to keep up the pretense of their friendship.

Sensing the awkward tension, the other socialites quickly stepped in to smooth things over.

"Miss Taylor, why don’t you hold onto it for now?

I’m sure Miss Sandra just wants to admire it in private later," one chid in.

"Exactly, no need to hide it from the rest of us," another teased lightly.

"Handmade by Miss Taylor herself—how enviable," a third added with a sigh of admiration.

It seed she had lost this friend after all. lissa might be naive, but she wasn’t stupid.

Her hand, still hovering in the air, slowly dropped back to her side.

The disappointnt in her eyes was unmistakable.

Just then, a warm, strong hand slid around her waist from behind.

"Weren’t you going to show around?

Let’s go."

Vicente’s arm encircled her slender waist, effortlessly guiding her away from the crowd.

"Let’s go."

His expression remained cool and detached, not sparing Sandra—or anyone else—so much as a glance.

Standing beside Vicente’s tall, imposing fra, lissa looked almost fragile, as though she could be completely enveloped in his embrace.

"Who is that man? I’ve never seen him before." "Sa here.

Didn’t lissa have a thing for that guy from the Calvin family?"

"Since when is she only allowed to like one person?

If a man that handso and masculine was right in front of you, could you resist?"

"Of course not.

I’ll ask lissa where she found him—I wouldn’t mind trying my luck too." ...

As the conversation shifted to more intimate topics, their voices instinctively lowered.

anwhile... Vicente released lissa’s hand, his dark eyes gazing down at her with an unconscious tenderness he himself hadn’t noticed.

"It’s fine," he said in that deep, asured voice.

"She was never really your friend to begin with."

What he ant, of course, was that the woman wasn’t worth lissa’s sadness since she clearly didn’t value their friendship.

But without context, his words landed like another blow. First the humiliation yesterday, and now this?!

lissa’s already fragile emotions shattered.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she glared at Vicente with wounded eyes, her delicate fingers curling into frustrated fists at her sides.

The afternoon sunlight filtering through the leaves cast dappled shadows across her face, highlighting the tremble of her lower lip.