?<strong>Chapter 272:</strong>


    Tristan’s intentions were obvious—he wanted Gina to take the hint and quietly disappear. But instead ofplying, Gina rose slowly from her seat, letting the cash he had tossed fall to the floor like discarded confetti.


    “In a rush to be rid of me, are you? Afraid I might say something to your girlfriend?”


    “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I be afraid? What do I have to hide?” Tristan’s voice came out sharp, attempting to sound cool andposed, but a wave of panic had already begun to swell inside him.


    When Gina’s eyes flickered toward Katie, his heart shot into his throat. Before Gina could utter another word, something in him broke. It was as if a dam of suppressed anger burst wide open. His hand shot out, and he pped her—hard!


    The impact echoed like a crack of thunder, followed by a thick, suffocating silence.


    Gina crumpled to the floor, all eyes locked on her, gazes loaded with a toxic mix of pity, mockery, and judgment, as if the p had branded her with weakness for all to see.


    Still clutching her cheek, Gina stared at Tristan. His expression was conflicted as he looked at his hand as if even he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. But the surprise quickly vanished, reced by a sneer of arrogance as he attempted to stitch together the torn edges of his pride.


    “If you don’t shut your mouth, you’ll get another one! Who do you think you are, stirring up trouble over a seat with my girlfriend?”


    Katie, now basking in her victory, slid her arm possessively around him. “Come on, babe, let’s just go somewhere private. It’s just a seat; let her keep it.” They strutted off, leaving a nearby waiter scooping up the bills that Tristan had flung.


    “Miss, you should take this. Consider itpensation. No one deserves to be hit for nothing.”


    Gina shot him a re, swatting his hand away in disgust before pulling herself to her feet and storming off. Out on the street, she barely managed to run a few paces before the tears blurred her vision.


    She fumbled for her phone, and there was a message from Adrian from five minutes earlier. He told her that something urgent hade up and he wouldn’t make it. Fury surged through her. She kicked a trash can, sending it ttering down the sidewalk.


    If Adrian had shown up, none of this would’ve happened. She wouldn’t have been humiliated in front of those smug idiots—Tristan and Katie. How dare hey a hand on her!


    That worthless, pampered brat—so hollow he had to use his family’s name as a crutch to get by—had dared to strike her. Rage swirled in Gina’s chest, and she swore she wouldn’t let them get away with this.


    Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the item she had intended to give Adrian—a paternity test report. Being close to Joelle gave Gina certain advantages, like unfettered ess to her home.


    Ever since her suspicions were piqued, she had begun investigating Rnd’s parentage. It hadn’t taken long for her to gather DNA samples from the Watson family, and the results were staggering. Rnd wasn’t Rafael’s child, and to her utter shock, he wasn’t even Joelle’s.


    To make sure, Gina had gone further. She’d discreetly obtained DNA samples from Shawn, Katherine, and a few others in the family. The results were undeniable. Rnd wasn’t biologically connected to the Watson family or the Romero family.


    Originally, she had nned to share this explosive information with Adrian, but now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps it was better to keep this little secret under wraps, at least for a while.


    As her fury began to simmer down, Gina gingerly touched her swollen cheek, wincing at the dull throb as she headed home.


    Joelle had made up her mind—it was time to leave the shadow of her divorce behind. So, she threw herself into epting every performance gig that came her way. Keeping herself upied became her way of finding direction again.


    One day, she was invited to perform at an elder’s home. Wealthy patrons often preferred the luxury of private performances in thefort of their own residences, and the pay was more than tempting, so she agreed.


    She stood hidden behind an ornate screen, her violin singing softly in the background as the elder hosted guests for a business meeting. The music weaved through the room, creating a calm, almost inviting atmosphere, never intrusive.


    The afternoon light filtered through a traditional round doorway behind her, casting the shadow of her silhouette on the screen.


    “Adrian, what’s caught your eye?” someone asked.


    The moment that name sliced through the air, Joelle’s fingers faltered, her bow screeching across the strings discordantly.


    The elder scowled, his irritation evident. “This violinist seems far from professional!”


    Joelle lowered her bow. “I’m terribly sorry. I need to step out for a moment.”


    “Go ahead.” Joelle slipped away through the round doorway, but curiosity gnawed at her. She leaned slightly back, peeking through a crack in the screen. And there he was—Adrian.


    A knot formed in her stomach. His presence always managed to unsettle her. An ex should be like a stranger.


    Determined to escape the situation, Joelle tracked down the housekeeper. “You can keep today’s fee. I’m not feeling well, so I’ll be heading out early.”


    “Avoiding me, Joelle?” Adrian’s voice came from behind. Joelle froze but didn’t turn around. Facing him wasn’t something she had the strength for, not anymore. Sensing the tension, the housekeeper excused himself as quickly as he could. Adrian stepped closer, his hand grazing her shoulder. Joelle moved away, arms crossing instinctively as she stared up at the sky.


    “It’s about to rain. Aurora’s terrified of thunderstorms, so I need to get home.”


    She knew how ridiculous the excuse sounded. But that was the whole point. She didn’t want to give Adrian any room to wiggle back into her life.


    Just as she was about to walk away, Adrian’s hand grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “Do you hate seeing me that much?”


    Joelle’s eyes narrowed, her voice icy as she looked up at him and replied, “Adrian, we’re not the kind of people who can stay friends.”


    His grip loosened, and he took a step back, lips pressed together as if considering his next move. There was a brief silence before he finally spoke. “Do you want to know where Rafael is?”


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