Chapter 393

"Me?"

Serena Whitaker didn't expect Penelope Rutherford to accuse her. She pointed at herself, shock and fury flashing in her eyes.

"You told me Evelyn was your friend the first time we met. You asked me to trust her, and I did. Now you're having dinner with her, my man, and my son? What's wrong with you?"

The more Penelope spoke, the more it sounded like an undeniable truth.

Serena was equally frustrated, nodding repeatedly. "Yes, I was foolish! Foolish enough to think I could help you reconcile with Oliver. Foolish enough to believe I could mend your relationship with Donovan. Go ahead, blame me! It's my fault for trusting the wrong person!"

"Serena," Evelyn called softly, trying to diffuse the tension before it affected the child.

She noticed Oliver trembling, his small fingers clenched tightly, shoulders hunched as if he wanted to disappear beneath the table.

If not for the distance between them, Evelyn would have pulled him into a comforting embrace. Her voice gave Serena an idea. She grabbed Evelyn's hand and declared, "You're right, Penelope. I'm terrible. From now on, I won't interfere. Evelyn and Donovan make a perfect pair, while people like you will never stand a chance!"

"How dare you?!"

Penelope shrieked, lunging forward—until a sharp crack echoed through the room.

Shards of glass scattered at her feet, some landing on her dress. Though unharmed, the sudden violence left her frozen.

Donovan, who had thrown the glass, remained composed. His expression was icy as he warned, "I'll say this once: get out of my sight, or else..."

His gaze was lethal, locking onto Penelope. "I'll make sure you disappear for good."

Penelope shuddered. Her shock melted into misery, her face crumpling with despair.

"Donovan, please! I admit I was wrong, okay? Just think about Oliver—your son!"

"Oliver?"

Donovan turned, only to find the boy no longer beside him. Oliver had squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to witness the chaos.

Evelyn ignored the argument and moved toward him. She knelt beside him but stayed silent.

"Don't touch my son!"

Penelope's scream pierced the air. Donovan's voice thundered in response, "Leave, Penelope!"

The command choked her protests.

After one last fearful glance at Donovan, she swallowed her pride and muttered, "Fine. I'll go. Just... don't be angry."

She was terrified of him. Even with reluctance burning in her chest, she turned and walked away.

Before exiting, she shot Evelyn a venomous glare.

Evelyn didn’t notice. Her entire focus was on Oliver. She didn’t reach for him or speak—just sat quietly, inching closer until her foot lightly brushed his.

At the contact, Oliver instinctively pulled back, but Evelyn gently pressed closer again. She did nothing else—just kept her foot near his, a silent reassurance.

"Oliver," Donovan bent to pick him up, but Evelyn lifted her head and subtly shook hers, signaling him to wait.

Across from them, Serena watched in confusion but stayed silent. Both she and Donovan observed Evelyn’s strange yet tender approach.

Minutes passed before Oliver finally reacted. His eyelids fluttered open, and he turned his head—slowly, cautiously—to look at Evelyn.