All Chapters of Fake Marriage: The Trillionire Tycoon's Fiesty Bride : Chapter 691 - Chapter 700

After his speech, Dustin mingled effortlessly with the crowd, his demeanor warm yet subtly calculating. His relaxed smile and approachable air made him an instant favorite among the attendees. He carried himself with a calm charm that made people feel at ease, though there was a sharp intelligence in his eyes that hinted at his true nature. It was hard to believe this was the same hotheaded man Eva remembered from years ago.Eva observed him from a distance, her thoughts clouded with intrigue. Dustin's transformation was nothing short of remarkable. He had once been easily provoked and impulsive, a man ruled by his emotions. Now, he was calm and composed, exuding an aura of quiet confidence. She couldn’t help but wonder what had prompted such a dramatic change. Personal growth? A harsh lesson from life? Whatever it was, it had left a lasting mark.Her gaze shifted to Damien, standing a few feet away. He was engaged in a deep conversation with another man, his hand still lightly restin

"Why do you like the speech?" Arabelle asked, her gaze steady as she tested Eva, searching for any signs of bluffing like Christine often attempted."Because it addresses a topic on everyone's mind but is rarely spoken about because not many people have the courage to speak against it. It's controversial in a society obsessed with creating perfect, high-achieving children for parents to parade around like trophies." Eva’s voice carried a note of conviction, her own experience with demanding parents lending weight to her words.She knew too well the consequences of overwhelming pressure on a child. While it might produce seemingly "exceptional" individuals, it could also wreak havoc on their mental health, potentially leading to conditions like depression. Instead of addressing the root causes, society often dismissed these issues as mere weaknesses.For Arabelle, a gifted child herself, to stand on stage and critique this system, it brought credibility and provoked deep reflection. It

Damien’s sharp eyes caught a pair of hostile ones fixed on Eva. His expression darkened when he realized it was Christine. His gaze turned icy, delivering a silent warning that made her falter. Christine’s confidence wavered when Damien’s piercing eyes met hers. His aura was suffocating, his authority undeniable. With a single move, he could dismantle her fragile plans. She swallowed hard, regretting the brief moment she dared to linger. “G-good evening, Mr. Cross,” she stammered, attempting a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She felt unsteady, as if the ground beneath her might crumble. Was he upset because she hadn’t acknowledged him earlier? Or because she had looked at Eva with disdain? Damien’s lip curled in disgust. “Did I give you permission to address me?” Christine froze, feeling the weight of his words crash over her. Her carefully built composure shattered. Without the protection of Mark, she stood alone, exposed to his scrutiny. Even if Mark was here, she knew there w

Eva turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Did you do this?" She lifted her gaze to meet his, realizing he had been watching her the entire time, his piercing eyes fixed solely on her. She had heard whispers, unconfirmed reports that Lydia was behind the replica of the blue dress that was sent to her. But to see her now, reduced to this state, it seemed the consequences of her actions were almost... excessive. "Yes," Damien replied without hesitation, his tone calm but firm. He tried to guide her out of the banquet, his hand lightly pressing against her back, but Eva stood her ground, refusing to move. "Why?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. Damien’s sharp eyes narrowed at her question, his jaw tightening. What did she mean, why? That woman had orchestrated her public disgrace, and now Eva was hesitating, questioning the justice served? Did she not understand that showing mercy to enemies was akin to betraying herself? "She was responsible for your humiliati

After a pause, George returned to the phone. “Damon Cross,” he said, purposely mispronouncing the name to irritate him.Damien felt his nose twitch at the deliberate and grating mispronunciation of his name, but he maintained a polite tone, reminding himself he was speaking to an elder. “Yes, Grandfather?” He replied smoothly, emphasizing the title in retaliation. Two could easily play the game of pettiness.George resisted the urge to march over to the banquet and knock some sense into the boy for daring to use that title. Grandfather? He scoffed internally. ‘If you want to call me that, first show me a ring on her finger—and then give me some great-grandkids before you even think about it! I wonder what that useless grandfather of his taught him.’“Now listen clearly to me. If she stays at your house, it’s for tonight only. And if I find out you’ve done anything improper, I’ll personally see to it that you’re castrated. Do you understand?”Julian, overhearing the threat, nearly cho