Watching the figure standing beside the flowerbed, Bailey raised an eyebrow, her understanding clear.


    Just as she was about to speak, Bridget walked straight up to Bailey and extended her hand.


    "Bailey, pleasure to meet you. I''m Rupert''s fiancée, Bridget."


    Bailey nced at Bridget, then at her outstretched hand, offering a light, breezy smile. "I''m sorry, Ms. Simpson, I''ve just been pruning the flowers, and my hands are quite dirty." Bridget''s hand stiffened for a moment before she awkwardly lowered it.


    No sooner had she dropped her hand than Bailey took a towel from a servant, cleaned her hands, and made her way directly to Rupert, effectively treating his fiancée as if she were invisible.


    Bailey sat down next to Rupert, poured him a cup of coffee, and addressed the others, "Please, take a seat. Eloise has already shared your details with me, so there''s no need for any painstaking introductions. I prefer to keep things casual." The underlying message was clear.


    Bridget clenched her purse, a fleeting look of malice shing in her eyes.


    This olddy, putting on airs?


    If not for her remaining usefulness, when would she ever get the chance to strut around like this?


    But outwardly, Bridget maintained her image of gentle grace wlessly.


    As she took her seat, she leaned slightly towards Rupert, pushing the cup away from him as though making her territory.


    "Bailey, sorry to interrupt, but I''m afraid Rupert doesn''t fancy this type of coffee."


    Doesn''t fancy?


    Sylvia quietly sipped the coffee, her confidence growing as the rich, aromatic vor confirmed it was, in fact, Rupert''s preferred blend.


    Its luxurious taste surpassed even her own favored coffee, rare and costly. It was the same kind Edwin always included as a thoughtful addition to her annual coffee gifts.


    And she knew this. Yet Bridget, Rupert''s deeply cherished old me, did not ?


    Bailey cradled her cup, sniffed it delicately, and chuckled. "Doesn''t fancy it? Then where does all that expensive coffee that Rupertpetes with me for annually end up? Ms. Simpson, as Rupert''s fiancée, surely you''ve... tasted it


    before?"


    Bridget''s face paled as her eyes darted to the pushed-away cup, wishing she could disappear. Her expression betrayed her- clearly, she had never tasted it.


    Rupert took a sip of his coffee, stating tly, "Fed it to the dogs."


    His gaze flicked toward Sylvia, brief but enough to make her heart skip a beat. The cup in her hand suddenly felt too hot to hold.


    What was he implying?


    Before Sylvia could ponder further, she felt Bailey''s gaze on her, forcing her to act nonchntly and sip her coffee.


    Bailey''s eyes roamed before she raised her hand, disying it to them.


    "What do you think?"


    On her finger were two rings.


    One was a Paparacha ring, the central stone around thirty carats, surrounded by colorless pink diamonds. In the sunlight, the orange-pink halo it cast was a striking testament to its exceptional quality.


    The other was a Camellia ring,


    featuring a fifteen-carat blue sapphire at its heart. The petals


    were intricatelyyered - the inneret


    adorned with white diamonds


    and


    the outer with pink chalcedony, offering a sense of lightness. despite its substantial appearance on her finger.


    Given Bailey''s question, it seemed she was asking which looked better.


    Bridget nced briefly, confidently speaking first, The quality of this Paparacha is rare- the bnce


    between orange and pink perfect et


    with just the right amount ofyering. But... I think the camellia ring suits you better. It''s profound and delicate without being overly flirtatious."


    Bailey, covering her mouth, chuckled lightly. "Ms. Simpson, your words almost sound like apliment to me."


    Bridget praised, "You have impable taste. Anyone who chooses this piece proves they are as radiant as the flower it represents."