Chapter 2169

At the Smith residence, the house buzzed with childish laughter. Bright-eyed children darted between the marble columns while Charlotte played with them, her smile warm and unguarded.

Ever vigilant, Cecilia reminded her to slow down and watch her step.

Charlotte was pregnant, after all. One careless fall or collision could mean danger for both her and the baby.

Thankfully, the children were unusually well behaved. They shared toys, laughed together, and whispered secrets about imaginary forts. Not once did shouting or roughhousing disturb the peaceful air.

That fragile calm shattered in an instant.

Felix Rainsworth stood among them, his young face twisted into something far too vicious for a child his age. His eyes burned with malice, sharp and calculating.

Sophie tugged at Dante’s sleeve, her voice trembling. “Let’s go play somewhere else, Dante.”

Dante hesitated, almost agreeing. Then he straightened, resolve hardening. He shook his head.

“No. We stay. This is Eli’s house. It’s not Felix’s territory. We don’t have to bow to him.”

Felix’s smile thinned into a dangerous line. “Well, well. Look at you growing a backbone, Dante. Impressive.” His voice was soft, but the threat beneath it vibrated like a drawn wire.

Dante’s fists clenched, knuckles whitening as his small arms trembled with rage far too big for his frame.

“Felix Rainsworth, you’d better watch yourself!” he snapped, each word crackling like sparks in dry brush.

Felix knew better than to push further. He shot Dante one last venomous glare, then turned sharply and stormed out of the courtyard.

Only when Felix disappeared did Sophie finally release the breath she’d been holding. “Dante… my parents said the Rainsworths are insanely rich. Our family relies on them too. I’m supposed to stay friends with him.”

The words struck Dante like a slap. Heat rushed up his neck as he turned to her, hurt blazing in his eyes.

“So you want to suck up to him and toss me aside?” he demanded.

“No—no, that’s not what I meant,” Sophie rushed to say.

Before she could finish, voices echoed again.

Trailing a group of late-arriving kids, Felix strolled through the iron-framed doors, flashing a grin so wide it almost looked harmless. “Hi, everyone!” he chirped, his greeting landing heavy and hollow.

Dante’s jaw tightened. All warmth drained from his face. “Why did Eli and Jon invite him?” he muttered, old resentment bleeding through every word.

Beside him, Sophie shook her head, fingers twisting into her skirt. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her eyes fixed uneasily on Felix.

Felix noticed. He smirked and sauntered over, as if a red carpet unfurled beneath his sneakers.

“Hey, Dante. Fancy seeing you here.” His tone dripped with mock surprise before his gaze slid to Sophie. “You’re Sophie Peach, right?”

Sophie gave a tiny nod, shrinking behind Dante’s shoulder.

Dante shifted, placing himself squarely in front of her. “What do you want, Felix?”

“Relax. I’m just here to have fun,” Felix said, flashing his teeth. But the cold gleam in his eyes told a different story.

Sophie shook her head quickly, braids whipping against her cheeks. “I just think we can’t afford to offend him, that’s all.”

Her explanation cooled some of the fire in Dante’s chest, though a stubborn ember still burned.

“Don’t be afraid of him,” Dante said, shoulders squared with fierce determination. “When I grow up, I’ll outshine him in every way.”

Sophie nodded, faith shining in her eyes. “Mm. I know.”

Her smile curved into soft half-moons, sunlight seeming to favor her face alone.

Elsewhere in the courtyard, a shrill sob suddenly split the air.

Charlotte hurried toward the sound, protective instinct flaring. “What happened?”

She stopped short.

Felix was gripping a bright plastic race car he’d just yanked from another boy’s hands, lounging smugly on a swing that clearly wasn’t his. The wronged child cried openly, cheeks red and wet.

“That’s my toy…” the boy sobbed.

Felix grinned, cruel satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Looks like it’s mine now.”

Charlotte loved children—but spoiled bullies were another matter entirely.

“Felix Rainsworth,” she said sharply, “why are you even here? Who told you it was okay to steal his toy and take his seat?”

Most kids shrank when scolded by an adult. Felix merely stretched lazily, like a bored cat.

Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Oh, I know you,” he sneered. “My mom says you’re Aunt Cecilia’s lackey. Just hired help.”

Pregnancy had already left Charlotte’s emotions taut and volatile. His words pushed her straight over the edge.

“You nasty little brat—what did you just call me?”

Felix stuck out his tongue, mocking and childish. “You’re a servant. Plain and simple. And you dare call me a brat? Bleh—bleh—bleh!”