Claimed by the Crown Heir novel Chapter 132

She had no idea what Lydia Beaumont liked.

It would have been nice to cater to her tastes and leave a good impression.

But with time running short, she had nowhere to ask for advice.

Ultimately, she decided on a custom silk gown for the banquet—something elegant and appropriate without being overly flashy.

At six o'clock, she received a call from Alistair.

"Come down."

Vanessa grabbed her clutch and hurried downstairs.

Hearing the commotion, Giselle Grant looked up.

Seeing Vanessa dressed so beautifully, she let out a disdainful scoff.

Gavin Grant's eyes lit up with awe. "Vanessa looks so pretty! Just like an angel."

"You're too sweet, Gavin," Vanessa replied with a warm smile.

She was already stunning, and that smile only amplified her beauty.

Giselle stared in jealous disbelief. By the time she snapped out of it, Vanessa was already speaking to the housekeeper.

"Martha, if Father asks, just tell him I went out."

A moment later, her silhouette disappeared through the entryway.

Dressing up like that, she was definitely going out to seduce some man!

Furious, Giselle reached over and pinched Gavin's ear. "Isn't your other sister pretty too? You little suck-up, why do you only ever praise Vanessa!"

Gavin shrieked in pain and tried to bite her hand, scaring Giselle into letting go. Taking advantage of the distraction, Gavin bolted up the stairs and stuck his tongue out at her.

"Giselle is an ugly old witch! Blah, blah, blah!"

"Gavin Grant, you are asking for it!"

"Mommy! The old witch is beating me up!"

...

Stepping out the front gates, Vanessa spotted the black Maybach parked by the curb.

The man stood beside the car, shrouded in the evening shadows. The glowing ember of his cigarette flickered, obscuring his sharp features.

His Adam's apple bobbed again, his gaze turning predatory as he looked down at the woman in his arms and let out a low chuckle.

"Throwing yourself at me?"

Flustered, Vanessa hastily pushed him away, using the motion of buckling her seatbelt to hide her embarrassment.

"I am not. Stop flattering yourself, Mr. Howard!"

Alistair raised an eyebrow, slipping into the driver's seat before pulling away from the curb.

Ivy Conservatory.

It was an exclusive private dining club hidden within the historic district's secluded courtyards, closed to the public and only accessible to VIPs with advance reservations.

Heavy crimson doors and gray brick walls concealed a tranquil, elegant courtyard. The landscaping was sparse but artistic, making even the rustling wind feel perfectly orchestrated.

The entire estate served only one party at a time, boasting flawless soundproofing and absolute privacy.

The interior decor featured understated, luxurious elegance. Soft ambient lighting illuminated the space, radiating an unpretentious yet undeniable opulence.

It was far more high-end and luxurious than Zephyr Bistro.