The chandelier threw shadows that reflected everyone’s tangled emotions. Wanting to avoid the tension, Lydia clutched the scroll, opened the door, and slipped outside. Footsteps followed her, but she didn’t look back right away.
The gravel path lay silent under the night sky. The footsteps behind her quickened as the guy called, “Ms. Sullivan.”
Lydia recognized the voice instantly, and a faint understanding flickered in her eyes. She halted, then pivoted to face the man standing beneath the trees. “Mr. Hollander, is there something else you need?”
The streetlamp’s glow blurred Vincente’s gaze, making his eyes hard to read. “I’ve been following the urban renewal project closely. Honestly, I know more about it than Sean does.”
He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “This isn’t about competing with him. But surely Hayden wouldn’t trust such
a project to someone who isn’t fully prepared, would he?”
Lydia’s mind flashed back to how Vincente had emphasized family ties in the living room earlier. Now, here he was,
sneaking after her to undermine Sean–this so–called “brotherly love” was truly disheartening.
“Hayden attaches great importance to this project,” she replied coolly. “I’m sure he’s already aware of everything you just
mentioned, and he’ll handle it in his way.”
Vincente’s lips curved into a flattering smile. “But if you were to add a little more fuel to the fire, it would burn much brighter, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh?” Lydia smiled. “And what would be in it for me?”
Vincente hadn’t expected her directness. His eyes shifted subtly behind his glasses. “What do you want?”
Lydia narrowed her striking eyes. “What I want is simple. My father’s old house in Jettridge is still in Rachel’s possession. I’ve asked her for it countless times, but she refuses to return it.”
Vincente’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face.
Lydia took a step forward, the click of her high heels echoing sharply in the quiet. “I could share some interesting rumors about Rachel with you, Mr. Hollander. Believe me, they’re worth hearing.”
A black car was parked by the curb in front of the Hollander residence’s gate. Hayden sat inside, watching the gate slowly
open.
Seeing Hayden still waiting, Lydia quickened her steps. She slid into the car carefully, keeping the paintings close to
prevent any damage.
“Congrats on getting what you wanted,” Hayden said. Noticing how cherished the paintings were to her, he shifted over slightly to make more space for her and the artwork.
A dream Lydia had clung to for years had finally come true today, and more than anything, it brought a sense of peace. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.
Hayden leaned against the car window, his gaze sliding away from her. The sharp line of his jaw, tilted slightly upward, stood out clearly. “Thank me for what?”
Lydia took a deep breath to steady her emotions. “For letting me use your influence to take back what’s mine.”
+28
“Was it worth it? Marrying a wreck like me for all this?” Hayden asked, his tone flat. His self–deprecation always struck with
a quiet sharpness.
Lydia looked at him steadily. “Don’t sell yourself short. If you were a wreck, what would that say about the Leonards and
Hollanders?”
A brilliant mind trapped in a broken body–that’s Hayden perfectly,‘ she thought. ‘His body’s weak, but his mind’s razor- sharp. Even when he’s using me like a chess piece, he still shows a kind of respect.
“He could have bailed at any moment, but he chose to wait. Maybe–just maybe–he’s got what it takes to be a decent
husband.
‘I’ve known Hayden for three days, and he treats me better than people I’ve loved for years. Those I trusted most are only
the ones who stabbed me in the back.‘
Lydia had given up on true love long ago. In that case, Hayden was definitely her best option.
Hayden’s slender fingers tightened their grip on his thigh. In his desolate eyes, a stubborn resolve seemed to take root, like a tough flower pushing through barren soil.
Suddenly, Lydia’s stomach growled, breaking the warm, quiet moment. Embarrassed, she tucked her hair behind her ear and mumbled, “Sorry. I skipped dinner and I’m starving. Since you’ve helped me out, let me buy you dinner.”
Hayden glanced at the driver and ordered, “Head to Serafina Fine Dining.”
Lydia knew Serafina Fine Dining well–it was a renowned, must–visit spot in Jettridge, and part of the Leonard family’s business empire.
As the city lights flickered to life, Jettridge’s nightlife stirred awake.
Serafina Fine Dining stood majestically on an island in the middle of the lake, with flower–adorned boats gliding lazily
around its shores.
“Michael, it’s beautiful here,” Ciara said. She wore a simple tank top, her hair pinned up with a clip, loose strands fluttering.
in the breeze.
As she scanned the surroundings, her eyes landed on a familiar figure nearby. ‘Why is she here?‘ Panic flashed across her face, and she quickly grabbed Michael’s wrist, trying to distract him.
“If you’re interested, wait here. I’ll go order,” Michael said, his tone calm. It was like he’d already made peace with being rejected earlier that afternoon.
“Michael…” Ciara’s voice trailed off, anxious.
Michael glanced down at Ciara’s hand gripping his arm, a flicker of confusion crossing his face.
Following her darting gaze, he spotted a figure that looked just like Lydia slipping into an elevator around the corner. In an instant, he shook off Ciara’s hand and rushed over.
Ciara stared at her empty palm, her expression darkening.
Michael reached the elevator just as the doors slid shut, missing Lydia by mere seconds.
Breathing hard, he lunged for the button, but a server blocked his way. “Sorry, sir. This elevator is for Mr. Leonard only. You’ll need to use the public elevator over there.”
“Michael!” Ciara caught up to him. Noticing his tense expression, she softened her tone. “Did you see it too? That person looked so much like Lydia.”
Michael frowned, his gaze fixed on the rising numbers of the elevator.
“Was I just seeing things?” Ciara hooked her arm through his as they headed to the other elevator. “There are plenty of look–alikes in the world. Plus, with that bump on your head today, you might be a little mixed
up.”
Michael absently touched the bandage hidden beneath his messy bangs, glancing back at the exclusive elevator.
Serafina Fine Dining was packed, with servers wheeling food carts to the private dining rooms.
“I need to use the restroom,” Lydia said, stepping out of their private room. After asking a waiter for directions, she headed toward the restroom–only to collide with Ciara right at the door.
Lydia glanced down at her, her eyes narrowing with irritation. “Speak of the devil. Can’t seem to get rid of you.”
Ciara rubbed her pounding head, on the verge of losing it. But when she saw Lydia, she swallowed her anger. “What are you doing here?”
Lydia stepped back, rubbing her temple. “Serafina Fine Dining doesn’t belong to you. Just because you eat here doesn’t mean I can’t.”
Ciara was ready to fire back, but the thought of Lydia’s connection to the Leonard family made her bite her tongue. Better to keep quiet and avoid any drama.
