Chapter 108: Sloane Bennett's Eyes Widened in Disbelief

Sloane Bennett's eyes widened in disbelief.

She stared at the mountain of roses piled before Clara Whitmore, then down at the measly few in her own hands. Confusion etched across her face.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go!

Clara looked equally bewildered.

She'd deliberately changed out of that eye-catching bikini—so why was she attracting even more attention now?

By the poolside, Grant Holloway's gaze darkened.

His knuckles turned white as he glared at Clara surrounded by admirers.

Paige Lawson trembled with rage.

Her carefully selected sexy swimsuit went unnoticed while Clara, in that modest one-piece, became the center of attention.

"How dare she?"

Paige's teeth ground together.

Clara simply stood there effortlessly.

Beneath her wide-brimmed straw hat, sunlight gilded her porcelain skin with a soft glow. Pale ribbons fluttered in the breeze, enhancing her ethereal grace.

As she turned to speak with Sloane, the slight curve of her lips captivated every man nearby.

"Furious?"

Connor Hayes materialized beside Grant.

Following Grant's gaze, he chuckled. "She was never meant to be anyone's possession."

Grant's fist clenched tighter.

"She shines brighter than you realize." Connor's eyes burned with intensity. "You can't cage that kind of light."

With a mocking smile, he added, "Lost your rose, now regretting it? Too bad—"

A fist whizzed past his cheek before he could finish.

Grant sneered. "You're in no position to lecture me."

His voice turned venomous. "I cultivated that rose myself. Every inch of her bears my mark. Six years—do you even know which side she prefers to sleep on?"

Connor's expression faltered.

"The bond between us," Grant enunciated each word, "is beyond your reach."

For the first time, Connor dropped his playful demeanor.

He had to admit Grant was right. No matter how far Clara strayed, she'd always return to this man.

Paige witnessed everything, nails digging into her palms.

Jealousy threatened to consume her.

Why?

Why did every exceptional man lose their minds over Clara Whitmore?

* * *

The rose contest results held no suspense.

Clara won by a landslide, crowned the undisputed Rose Queen.

Sloane snapped photos frantically, hands shaking with excitement.

"Congratulations to our Rose Queen!"

The blonde host beamed, presenting a velvet box.

"Now, let our Rose Queen unveil the mystery grand prize!"

The crowd held its breath.

Clara's slender fingers rested lightly on the lid.

"Three... two... one—"

Just as she lifted it—