Chapter 602

The thought made Cassandra Blake's sparkling eyes turn toward Nathan Blackwood. "Honestly," she said, her voice dripping with charm, "I believe marriage restricts personal freedom."

She leaned forward, her manicured fingers tracing the rim of her wineglass. "If two people truly love each other, why does a piece of paper matter? Real love doesn't need legal validation."

A sharp inhale came from Seraphina Devereux, who immediately glanced at Nathan's expression. Just as she expected—his jaw was clenched tight enough to crack walnuts. Thank God she'd stopped herself from agreeing earlier.

Evelyn Sinclair nodded enthusiastically. "That makes perfect sense."

Encouraged, Cassandra's smile widened. "We're not ordinary women. We have careers, influence, connections—and most importantly, financial independence. Why should we chain ourselves to outdated traditions?"

Seraphina barely suppressed an eye roll. Couldn't these idiots see the storm brewing in Nathan's glacial stare? Cassandra might as well have hung a neon sign saying "I volunteer as your mistress!"

Vivian Lockwood considered this before turning to the quietest woman at the table. "Giselle, what's your take?"

Giselle Fontaine blinked, caught off guard. "I... um..." She fumbled for words before murmuring something noncommittal.

Xavier Delmont chose that moment to stand, raising his champagne flute with theatrical flair. "To all you magnificent ladies—may you find happiness with or without rings on your fingers!"

Evelyn laughed, clinking her glass against his. "If only more men shared your perspective, Mr. Delmont. Gentlemen like you are rare treasures."

"Absolutely," Cassandra purred.

"I couldn't agree more," Giselle added softly.

Vivian studied Xavier—decent-looking, kind-hearted, constantly bullied by Nathan. A pang of sympathy hit her. "Hear, hear."

Xavier's ears turned pink. Wait—were these glamorous women actually into him? Not the billionaire scowling in the corner? His gaze darted to Seraphina, who'd been sneaking glances at him all evening.

A thrilling possibility dawned. With his charm and their connections... why slave away as Nathan's punching bag? His posture straightened with newfound confidence.

Behind the monitors, Dominic Kingsley rubbed his temples. This divorcee roundtable was gold—these actresses were shredding marital conventions without hesitation. The ratings would skyrocket.

Just as they prepared to wrap, Cassandra zeroed in on Nathan like a heat-seeking missile. "Mr. Blackwood, we've all shared. Don't you have thoughts?"

Ice crystallized in Nathan's gaze. "Unfaithful men deserve castration," he said, voice like a guillotine blade. "But women who glorify infidelity? That's a special kind of trash."

The studio temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees.