Semua Bab Size-Plus Girl Owned By Three Heirs: Bab 31 - Bab 40

The clinking of silver cutlery against porcelain plates echoed sharply throughout the spacious dining room of Blackthorne Mansion. The long marble table, which could usually accommodate more than a dozen people, now felt unbearably empty. Lavender-scented aromatherapy candles burning at the center of the table illuminated only the two people seated across from each other.Lucien cut the wagyu steak on his plate with meticulous precision, then chewed slowly before glancing toward the row of empty chairs on his left. "Where are my two younger brothers?" Lucien asked flatly, breaking the silence as he reached for a cloth napkin to wipe the corner of his spotless lips.Aunt Hiyuni, who was standing not far away, hurried forward and bowed respectfully. "Young Master Azriel informed us that he is still very busy in his art studio, Master. He said there is an oil painting project that must be completed tonight," Aunt Hiyuni reported in her gentle, composed voice. "As for Young Master Evander

The clock showed one in the morning. The silence of Blackthorne Mansion felt like a heavy blanket pressing down on every corner of the house. Inside her room, Isolde was trapped in a nightmare about her ex-boyfriend mocking her weight when a soft yet persistent knock on the wooden door pulled her from her subconscious.Knock. Knock. Knock.Isolde let out a faint groan and pulled the blanket over her head. However, the knocking did not stop.“Who is it?” she grumbled in the hoarse voice of someone who had just woken up.Dragging her feet, she made her way toward the door. As soon as the lock clicked open and the door swung wide, Azriel stood there, looking at her with dark eyes that gleamed sharply beneath the shadows of the hallway.“Azriel? What do you want at this hour?” Isolde asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes.Without any preamble, Azriel firmly grabbed Isolde’s wrist. His grip was strong but not painful.“You’re better now, aren’t you? I don’t like waiting,” Azriel whispered in a lo

Lucien paid no attention to his younger brother's irritated expression. He immediately directed his sharp gaze through the gap in Azriel's bedroom door, where the air was thick with the scent of oil paint. "Have you seen that chubby girl? She's not in her room," Lucien asked in a firm, no-nonsense tone.Azriel let out a quiet snort, a faint, cynical smile forming at the corner of his pale lips to conceal the nervousness stirring in his chest. "Why are you asking me? I don't know," Azriel replied coldly, shaking his head slowly. "Am I her babysitter or something? Try looking in the backyard. Maybe she's out there looking for a midnight snack."Lucien stared intently into Azriel's eyes for several seconds, trying to read even the slightest trace of panic, but his younger brother appeared perfectly composed. "All right," Lucien finally said before turning away without another word.Azriel immediately shut his bedroom door tightly and leaned against it, letting out a long breath filled wi

The morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the silk curtains of the Blackthorne Mansion dining room, casting a golden glow across the surface of the long marble table. On top of it, the servants had arranged toasted bread, a warm omelet, and a cup of black coffee with thin wisps of steam still rising from it.The three Blackthorne men were already seated in their respective chairs. The atmosphere in the room felt so heavy, as though an invisible fog was keeping them from speaking.The sound of slightly heavy footsteps approached. Isolde walked into the dining room wearing a loose cream knit sweater paired with a denim skirt that hugged her curvy hips. Her long hair was neatly tied back with a maroon ribbon, leaving a few loose strands framing the temples of her chubby face. She took a deep breath, steadying the pounding of her heart before it could burst."Good morning," Isolde greeted in as normal a tone as she could manage, as though the events of last night were nothing more

The Faculty of Economics cafeteria was not particularly crowded that afternoon, leaving rows of long wooden benches near the large windows overlooking the university's Gothic-style garden. On the table sat three plates of waffles topped with thick whipped cream, grilled bratwurst sausages, and a large bowl of French fries.Isolde paid no attention whatsoever to the strange looks from several international students seated at the table across from them. Her plump hand skillfully speared a sausage with her fork, dipped it into mustard, then popped it into her mouth, chewing with remarkable enthusiasm. Her chubby cheeks puffed out as they moved up and down like a starving squirrel.Evander, who sat directly across from her, had not touched his food at all. The well-built man folded his muscular arms on the table, resting his sharp jaw on them as he watched Isolde with a faint smile lingering on his lips. His hawk-like eyes gleamed with amusement, radiating a warmth he rarely showed inside