Chapter 1631
Chapter 1631:
Zeke’s smile faltered, but only for a breath. “Thin ice? What are you talking about?”
Jules scoffed quietly, eyes flashing with amusement. “Then you are not just walking the edge—you are sprinting
across it.” Zeke gave no answer. He did not need to. Years of friendship had taught them to hear the words that
were never spoken.
Jules looked up, his eyes heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts as he glanced toward Zeke, who sat
wreathed in smoke. Jules lowered his gaze, brought the glass to his lips, and took a slow sip. “It was just a joke
back then. Why take it to heart? She has found someone she loves. They are engaged. The outcis set. Why
dwell on it now?”
A haze of gray smoke curled around Zeke's face, cloaking his features in a veil of mystery, as though shielding
his expression from the world—or perhaps from Jules himself. Silence hung between them, stretched thin by
tension. Then Zeke finally spoke, his tone flat and distant. “You know it was never about that joke.”
He lifted his head, dragging deeply on the cigarette, the red glow flaring briefly in the shadows. His eyes,
rimmed with the crimson tint of fatigue—or rage—met Jules’, cold and steady. “She forgot what she said that
day. But did you forget too?”
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Jules did not answer. His fingers clenched around the glass until his knuckles lost their color, pale and strained.
The muscle in his jaw tightened, drawing a hard line across his face. A faint pulse throbbed at his temple,
betraying the storm gathering beneath his stillness.
Zeke let out a hollow chuckle, eyes devoid of warmth. “Why so quiet?” he asked, voice low, mocking. “Feeling
guilty too, Jules? If we are comparing timelines, | was in her life long before this new prince of hers ever showed
up. Back then...”
He never finished. Jules suddenly hurled his glass past Zeke’s shoulder. It shattered against the wall behind him
with a sharp crack, sending shards flying. “Is there any point in dredging up old history?” he snapped, his voice
raw. The sound of breaking glass barely faded before Zeke flicked his cigarette to the floor and lunged. His fist
arced through the smoke and slammed into Jules’ jaw without a word.
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The fight ignited instantly. Fists flew, fueled by something unspoken that clung to both men like a second skin.
Whether it was guilt, weariness, or the alcohol coursing through his veins, Jules stopped resisting after a few
hard blows. Patrons scrambled away, dragging their drinks and dignity with them. Sfled entirely, eager to
avoid the spiral of violence unfolding in front of them. Free from the second-floor balcony, the chaos below was a
silent, chaotic dance.
Corrine’s gaze tightened as she read the message from Jonathan. The bill, long and detailed, was signed with
biting sarcasm.
She stared at it for a moment, her lips twitching in restrained frustration. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled
slowly, trying to contain the firestorm of irritation building within her. Then, she dialed Jules.
As soon as the call connected, her anger spilled through the receiver. “Jules! What were you thinking? Fighting in
Jonathan's bar of all places?”
“How was | supposed to know it belonged to him?” jules mumbled, nursing his bruised jaw with a cold pack.
“Anyway, listen—the Charles family representatives are arriving in a few days. Could you help entertain them
while | recover?”
Corrine’s hands tightened around her phone as she listened to Jules, the tension in her body palpable. The nerve
of him, asking for help after causing so much unnecessary trouble.
Corrine arched an eyebrow skeptically. “Why should | do it for you?” Within the bustling halls of Blue Core
Technology, Jules’ absence hardly created a void—countless others could easily fill his shoes. Yet somehow, the
burden had fallen to her, defying all logic.
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