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Chapter 11 - A ghost at his own party

Heather's fingers were traced in slow circles over the smooth armrest of her chair. She was trying to distract herself. She didn't know why it made her so nervous.

But all she could hear were quiet murmurs, the soft clink of teacups, and the occasional rustle of fabric as someone shifted in their seat.

Around her, the family of her mysterious husband. They had thrown this small gathering for him—nothing huge, just a simple welcome. Yet, even in its simplicity, it felt heavy. Like every gesture and word, carried weight she couldn't quite decipher.

The family had been nothing but kind to her. They treated her like she was something precious, something to be cherished. Because they needed her.

Her hands tightened slightly around the armrest.

The triplets—his sisters—were seating beside her. Three faces, nearly identical, their features so sharp and refined they could have been carved from the same block of jade.

One of them, Lily, had taken a picture with her earlier, had leaned close and grinned like they had always known each other.

Heather hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now, as she sat here with nothing else to focus on, she couldn't shake the feeling that their faces looked oddly familiar, like someone she should recognize but couldn't quite place.

She glanced at the wall clock.

2 PM.

Her manager had called yesterday, asking if she would be making an appearance at the event today. She told him no, said she had something to take care of.

He had assumed it was something serious—some emergency or pressing matter, but she hadn't corrected him. She hadn't told him she would be here, sitting at this table, waiting for a stranger she was supposed to call her husband.

Waiting for a man she barely knew, a man whose family was treating her like diamond. A man who put her name in a ledger of inheritance. A man who was now late to his own welcome party.

The thought alone made her fingers press a little harder against the wood.

Every second stretched, thin and taut. The pounding of her own heartbeat filled her ears, steady but too loud, like a drum echoing in an empty hall.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the double doors at the far end of the room, the ones he was supposed to walk through at any moment.

She imagined him standing on the other side in a tailored black suit. She imagined the sound the doors would make when they opened. The sound his shoes would make when he stepped in.

But nothing has happened.

Yet.

She exhaled, letting her gaze shift away just for a moment, just to give her straining nerves a break. She tried to stay calm. She tried not to show how badly her hands were shaking.

But her heart had its own voice now. Loud and stubborn. It pounded against her ribs like a child asking to be let out.

She looked away from the doors and turned to Lily, who was seated beside her.

Lily, one of the triplets, leaned in slightly and whispered, "Don't be nervous. He doesn't like making a scene. He'll probably come in quietly."

Heather gave her a faint smile. "I'm not nervous," she lied.

Just as she turned back to the doors, they opened.

Her breath caught, her body tensed. Her eyes snapped back to the entrance, her mind already conjuring up the image of him—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in the dark suit she had seen in the young master's chambers.

But the person who stepped through was not him. It was a butler.

The room was quiet now.

Heather watched as the family's expressions shifted—just slightly enough for her to notice. Heather couldn't hear a single word. But her chest began to feel heavy.

The kind of heavy that came from knowing something was about to disappoint you. There was a tightening around the mother's eyes, and a faint crease in the father's brow.

The butler bowed and left as quietly as he had come.

For a moment, no one spoke. The mother turned to Estelle and whispered something in her ear. They both turned to Heather. There was something about the look they gave her—regret? Apology?

"He's not coming back today," she said softly.

Heather stared at her, letting the words settle, waiting for something in her chest to react. But there was nothing, just a pause.

"Why? What happened." Lily frowned slightly.

Amaranth sighed

"He said there's a small matter he needs to attend to." She placed a hand on Heather's shoulder. "I'm sorry, dear. We promised."

Heather nodded slowly. She wasn't sure what to say

But she was forcing herself to process it. A delay? A distraction? Whatever it was, it was important enough for him than being here.

She glanced down at her phone, watching the screen light up with a familiar name.

Her manager.

She let it ring for a few seconds, staring at it like it had just reminded her of something she had nearly forgotten.

The event.

She exhaled slowly. She had promised she wouldn't go. But since he wasn't coming, then maybe she should go. Because she felt like she owed her agency at least one public appearance.

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