"Where are you coming from? And why are you looking like that?"
Gianna's uncle, Clement, barked the moment she stepped into the dining room, ushered in by the butler as though she were an unwelcome guest.
With eyes sharp enough to peel skin, he scanned her from head to toe in one slow, dragging sweep. His thick brows pinched into a judgmental knot, and his lips curled as though her very presence had soured the air.
He took in the loose strands of hair escaping her bun, the light smear of fatigue under her eyes, the simple, drenched, work clothes she still had on—all of it noted with visible contempt.
"Weren't you informed of a family dinner?"
"Yes, I was," Gianna replied, her voice calm and unhurried as she offered a polite greeting to the people at the table. "But I was swamped with work… there was no time to change clothes."
Across the table, Sabrina scoffed dramatically, tossing her cutlery down with an exaggerated clatter.
