Chapter 147

Chapter 147:

The thought of the Flynn name being dragged through the mud, turned into Srixby’s latest mockery, was a humiliation he could not afford.

“Fine. Very well.”

His gaze turned razor-sharp, a slow, cruel smirk curling his lips.

“Hadley, you really are an ingrate, aren’t you?”

Who did she think he was doing all this for, anyway?

“We took you in, gave you everything, and this—this is how you repay me? By using my own family to threaten me?”

Hadley met his stare. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”

Her voice was smooth. “But let’s be clear. Leave me alone, and nothing will spiral out of control. Soon enough, I won’t even be a Flynn anymore. So tell me, Eric—why are you so determined to meddle in my affairs?”

Their eyes locked, the air between them crackling with unspoken tension, neither willing to yield.

A soft, measured tap shattered the standoff.

“Who is it?”

Eric’s voice was edged with impatience.

The door creaked open just enough for Lennon to peek inside, his expression cautious. “Mr. Flynn… just checking if you needed anything?”

Eric and Hadley had been alone inside the dressing room for too long, and Lennon was starting to get worried.

After the fiasco with Cody, Lennon was probably wondering if Hadley needed rescuing.

“No! Get lost—”

“Wait!”

Hadley’s voice sliced clean through his dismissal.

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Eric’s eyes narrowed. “What now?”

She smiled, a picture of effortless poise. “Mr. Flynn,” she said, addressing him as if he were nothing more than a stranger.

“Mr. Lewis can bring some wine. You’re the man of the night, after all. It’s only right that I offer you a toast as promised.”

Eric blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

Even now, she kept up the act, treating him as if he were nothing more than a name on a guest list, just another face in the crowd.

A bitter realization settled in. If that was how she wanted to play it, then so be it.

Eric’s lips curled into a slow, ice-edged smirk. “Sure. Why not?”

Hadley turned to Lennon, her voice as effortless as ever. “Would you mind taking care of that?”

Lennon brightened. “On it!”

In a flash, he was gone—only to return just as swiftly. A waitress trailed behind him, balancing a tray with wine and two glasses.

“Everything’s set, Mr. Flynn.”

Lennon glanced at Hadley, giving her a subtle nod.

With quiet poise, she stepped forward, lifting the bottle with steady hands. The wine poured smoothly, the deep red liquid catching the light before settling into the glass. Then, with deliberate grace, Hadley extended it toward Eric, both hands cradling the stem, a picture of composure.

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