The mansion gleamed under crystal chandeliers. The dining hall was dressed to impress. silver cutlery, floral centerpieces, and a rare bottle of Lucien's favorite wine placed carefully at the head of the table.
Ava stood by the wall, dressed in her maid uniform, a tray of wine glasses in her shaking hands.
The night already felt wrong.
She could feel it in the air, a tightening in her chest, the sense that something was about to be taken from her.
"Lucien, darling," came Madam Blackwell's poised voice. "There's someone I want you to meet."
Lucien sat at the far end of the table, stiff in his tailored suit. He didn't answer, merely raised an eyebrow.
The grand doors opened.
And in walked Celeste Sinclair.
Flawless.
Tall, with icy blue eyes and lips red like wine. Every step she took screamed confidence, elegance and danger.
Ava felt her stomach twist.
She'd heard of Celeste before. The heiress to the Sinclair Pharmaceuticals empire. Ruthless, cunning, and the kind of woman Madam Blackwell wished had been her daughter-in-law all along.
Celeste leaned forward and kissed Lucien lightly on the cheek.
"You look even more handsome than I remember," she purred.
Lucien pulled back slightly, confused. "Have we… met before?"
Madam Blackwell tensed but smiled tightly. "Don't be silly, Lucien. You've known Celeste since you were children. We arranged your engagement long before your… accident."
Ava nearly dropped the tray.
She gritted her teeth, walking around the table and pouring wine. As she passed Lucien, her hand brushed the back of his chair briefly, an unconscious touch, something she used to do when they dined together in secret.
His eyes flickered toward her. Something passed between them.
A spark.
Celeste noticed.
And smiled.
She turned to Ava.
"You there. What's your name?"
Ava bowed her head. "Ava, miss."
"That's pretty. Ava." Celeste's eyes gleamed. "You look very… familiar."
"I just started recently."
Lucien's gaze didn't leave Ava.
Celeste touched his hand. "Lucien, once we're married, I plan to redecorate this entire estate. It needs a woman's touch, don't you think?"
Lucien's jaw clenched. "I don't recall agreeing to marry anyone."
Madam Blackwell cleared her throat. "The decision was made before your accident. You'll come to understand with time."
Celeste leaned in. "Don't worry. I'm very… patient."
After dinner, Ava stood in the hallway, arms crossed, trying to breathe.
Celeste's laugh still echoed in her ears. The way she looked at Lucien, like he already belonged to her.
Lena approached. "You alright?"
"No."
"She's beautiful," Lena said softly.
Ava nodded. "And she knows it."
Lena paused. "Lucien doesn't seem to remember her either."
Ava blinked. "You noticed?"
"He only looks at you."
That night, Ava passed Lucien in the hallway.
He stopped.
Their eyes locked.
He said nothing for a moment, then, quietly:
"Why do I feel like… you hate her more than the others?"
Ava's heart pounded.
She looked away. "I don't hate her."
He stepped closer. "But you don't like her."
"No."
"Why?"
She met his eyes, voice barely a whisper.
"Because she's not the one you married."
Lucien froze.
And Ava quickly turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the dark corridor, frowning, heart pounding with a confusion he couldn't name.