He took a step forward, reaching for the container
But before his hand could touch it, Estela slapped it away
She pulled the box into her arms and shot him a cold glare
“Don’t touch it,” she said, her voice sharp as glass.
Vance narrowed his eyes.
Even when Estela had just been slapped by Rosalyn, she hadult reacted this strongly. But now–over a food container–she was fighting like her life depended on it.
His expression darkened as he reached out, trying to yank it from her
arms,
He was strong–far stronger than she was.
Estela clutched the container with all her might. Her already red and swollen cheek flushed deeper with strain.
If this soup was going to end up in their hands, she’d rather feed it to the dogs.
As they struggled, Vance’s patience snapped. “Stop making a scene Let go.”
Estela gritted her teeth and held on, but she couldn’t match his strength. The container was slipping.
Then, a pale, slender hand appeared, pressing firmly down on it.
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And with it came a calm, almost lazy voice. “Shall I set up a stall so you two can sell tickets?”
The struggle stopped instantly.
Estela quickly pulled the container back into her arms, hugging it tightly. She turned to the newcomer with visible relief.
Spencer had changed out of his hospital gown. Dressed in a black trench coat, his tall frame gave off an air of quiet authority. He looked even more imposing now.
When he didn’t speak, the chill in his presence was almost suffocating- like the calm before a storm.
Estela looked away, lowering her head slightly and taking a small step back.
Spencer’s gaze briefly swept over the vivid slap mark on her cheek, his eyes darkening.
The moment he appeared, Vance let go without a word.
He studied the man in front of him. ‘Something about him looks familiar. Is this the same guy who stepped in and saved Estela at the hospital?‘ he thought.
A strange sense of irritation crept up inside Vance.
Phoebe’s eyes flitted between them, her voice soft as she stepped forward and gently held onto Vance’s arm. “You must be Mr. Rangel. We’re so sorry to trouble you–we’ll be on our way.”
It finally clicked for Vance.
He pulled out a business card and offered it with a smile. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Rangel.”
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The Rangel family had two sons.
The eldest, Israel Rangel, was calm and low–profile–the true power behind the family’s success. He was already married with a daughter.
The younger son, Spencer, lived abroad and rarely made public appearances. There wasn’t much known about him.
Naturally, Vance assumed the man in front of him was Israel.
Spencer barely glanced at the card, made no move to correct the assumption, and said casually, “Oh. it’s you.”
Then, turning his gaze toward Phoebe, he added with a faint smile, “And this must be the lady you’ve been keeping tucked away.”
Phoebe blushed and leaned into Vance with a practiced shyness.
Spencer tilted his head slightly, the corners of his gray eyes lifting with a teasing gleam. “That day at the hospital–watching Mr. Leon throw himself in front of his wife–such a touching scene. You two really are the picture of marital bliss.”
Vance’s smile froze.
Spencer went on, as if casually reminiscing, “Though I have to say, Ms. Warren was incredibly unlucky. That knife nearly struck her
heart.”
Off to the side, Estela’s hand tightened again, fingers curling around the edge of the container.
The image from that day–the chaos, the pain–flashed through her mind with startling clarity.
She had almost died.
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And every word Spencer spoke seemed more deliberate than the last- each one landing squarely on Vance’s pride.
Finally, as if just realizing, Spencer asked, “So, you all know each other?”
“Yeah,” Vance answered, forcing a calm tone as a heavy feeling settled in his chest. Without drawing attention, he subtly stepped away from Phoebe.
“Thanks again, Mr. Rangel, for helping my wife that day. I’ll be sure to thank you properly soon.”
Phoebe’s smile wavered for a moment, her eyes glistening.
“Yes, Mr. Rangel,” she added softly, “you’ve misunderstood. Vance and I are just friends. We won’t bother you anymore–goodbye.”
Spencer raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Ah. Got it.”
As soon as she stepped into the elevator, tears slipped silently down her face.
Rowena anxiously tugged on Vance’s sleeve. “Daddy, Phoebe’s crying. Go check on her!”
Vance’s brows furrowed. He nodded stiffly and offered a rushed goodbye.
“Mr. Rangel, if you’ll excuse us.
Then he turned and followed Phoebe into the elevator.
Spencer let out a faint, almost amused breath of laughter through his
nose.
As he turned to leave, Rosalyn quickly ushered the children along
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Chapter 30
