Jasmine glanced around once more, ensuring Charlene was nowhere in sight, before leaving with Vesta.

As he watched them walk away, Dalton was about to head off himself when he noticed Charlene standing a

short distance away.

His stride faltered.

Realizing he couldn’t just ignore her, he paused, especially since Charlene’s gaze was fixed on Vesta and Jasmine with an icy intensity.

Charlene’s face was expressionless, her eyes cold and detached. To Dalton, it looked like she was staring at Vesta as if she were her sworn enemy.

The thought crossed his mind that Charlene might harbor some ill intentions towards Vesta, still holding onto old grudges.

Dalton decided to approach her.

Charlene was carrying quite a few things. Two potted plants and several decorative items for her home.

The decorations were a spontaneous buy. Since moving into her current place, she had been too caught up with her personal affairs to focus much on decor, leaving her living space somewhat empty and devoid of personal touches. Although she initially went out just to buy plants, she ended up grabbing a few decorative items from a nearby store as well.

As she was leaving, she hadn’t expected to run into Vesta and Jasmine.

Once they left, she was about to go her own way when Dalton marched up to her, demanding, “What are you planning?”

Charlene stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean?”

Dalton replied, “She couldn’t care less about you. You’re not important to her. Yet you still hold a grudge. Doesn’t that seem pointless?”

“Couldn’t care less?” Charlene’s eyes turned colder. “You hold her in such high regard, don’t you?”

To Dalton, Vesta was practically perfect.

Before he could respond, Charlene continued, “So, what is it you want to say to me? Warn me not to hurt her?”

Dalton couldn’t deny that this was indeed his intention.

Charlene let out a short, mocking laugh. “Even Thorne hasn’t said that to me, Mr. Ramirez. So, what’s your angle here? Vesta’s secret admirer?”

Dalton didn’t bother hiding his admiration for Vesta from Charlene.

Hearing her words, he retorted coolly, “So, are you suggesting I should remind Thorne to keep an eye on you?” His mind flashed back to that previous party where Thorne had asked Charlene to dance. Dalton and York had speculated that Thorne’s approach was a veiled warning for Charlene to stay away from Vesta.

He added, “Or do you think Thorne’s previous warning was too gentle for your liking?” Charlene remained silent, merely staring at him with a mocking glint in her eyes.

Dalton felt a twinge of irritation at her seemingly contemptuous gaze.

Before he could compose a response, Charlene asked, “Are you really Abelard’s son?”

Though her interactions with Abelard had been limited, she viewed him as a man who exuded both the warmth of a mentor and the commanding presence of a leader.

Yet, she saw none of that reflected in Dalton, aside from their physical resemblance.

Perhaps Dalton’s infatuation with Vesta clouded his judgment.

Dalton was taken aback when she mentioned his father, her tone carrying a familiarity that left him puzzled. How could she possibly know his father?

His expression darkened. “What do you mean by that?”

Charlene didn’t answer his question. Instead, she said, “Aren’t you going to have Thorne warn me? Go ahead, I’ll be waiting.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away without a backward glance.