With a single sentence, the restless humn of conversation in the living room Into silence.
The Hopkins Group’s headquarters dwarfed Nova International’s building, its soaring glass towers commanding the skyline.
At four in the afternoon, Celeste stood in the penthouse office, sunlight pouring through the floor–to–ceiling windows. Seated at the expansive desk was her intended fiancé, Mr. Alfred Hopkins–the man whispered about in society circles, rumored to be impotent.
Unlike Philip, whose presence was cold and sharp–edged, Alfred radiated a gentleness so profound it seemed almost otherworldly. Bathed in sunlight, he appeared utterly unthreatening. His skin was porcelain pale, making his deep–set eyes seem even more striking. A straight nose and lips with a healthy flush gave life to features that might have otherwise seemed carved from marble.
Perhaps she was staring too intently.
Alfred lifted his gaze at last.
In that instant, the air of warmth and harmlessness around him shifted, as if a hidden door had slammed shut. An unspoken authority flickered in his eyes, leaving Celeste’s heart pounding. She realized then that what she’d taken for gentleness was, in fact, complete indifference.
“You’re not Beverly.“.
His voice was low, magnetic–a sound that pulled her abruptly back to herself. She straightened her shoulders, refusing to show any sign of weakness.
“No, I’m Celeste. I’m here to marry you.”
A flicker of something unreadable passed through Alfred’s eyes. The woman standing before him–defiant, wild–slowly overlapped with the stubborn little girl from his memory fifteen years ago. Still fierce, no longer carefree.
He closed the folder in front of him. His voice now was deep, almost hypnotic. “A last–minute swap? Why should I agree?”
Celeste didn’t hesitate. “Because Beverly didn’t want you.”
At the door, Mack, who’d been about to knock and deliver a report, froze in disbelief.
1/3
15:11
Was the Duncan family out of their minds? Who dared speak to Mi A
way?
But Alfred seemed unbothered by the rumors swirling outside these walls. He merely raised an eyebrow.
“And you don’t mind?”
Celeste let out a crooked smile, answering with frank sincerity. “It’s an arrangement, isn’t it? We both get what we want–there’s no love involved. Why should I care?”
Love?
Alfred’s fingers curled slightly, betraying the only hint of unease.
Was it the man from Silvercrest she cared for? Was that why she seemed so joyless?
He studied Celeste for half a minute, obsidian eyes swirling with emotion, though his tone remained cool and detached. “Did you bring your documents?”
Celeste hadn’t expected that, on her first afternoon back in Asterwynn, she’d be standing in a city hall at closing time, marrying a man she’d only just met–a man carrying a secret illness.
Staring at the crimson marriage certificate in her hand, she felt strangely
unmoored, as if the world had shifted around her. But in that moment, it was as if every last tie to Philip had been severed.
“Your contact information.”
Alfred’s clipped voice snapped her out of her thoughts. He stood beside her, backlit by the fading sun, his expression unreadable. Still, the gesture of handing her his phone was almost… courteous.
After exchanging numbers, Alfred’s first message arrived: a city map, with several locations circled in red. There was a luxury penthouse in the heart of the business district, a row of elegant townhouses on the suburban edge, and the tranquil
Riverside Manor.
“Pick whichever you like.”
His voice was as even and indifferent as ever.
So, this really was a marriage without love–just business.
Celeste didn’t mind. She chose an apartment near Duncan Group for convenience,
2/3
15.11
and theis the quiet ville a NAAR SHAP pintar a patentes MAUBENSO perfect display
unk
She was about to replet her one to Xtback Bu haqde arready on the phone instructing file seletal to prepara Bisti proprie maande
The speed of it started her, as did us utter lack of cuftesity
“You’re not going to set why I picked body
He glanced over, one eyebrow slightly raised eyes as calm as deer water har reflection caught in their depths. Didn’t you just say? This isn’t about romance Re both have our own needs
Celeste was momentarily lost for words
Of course. She was the one who’d insisted on a marriage of convenience
But years spent with Philip had left their mark–the ingrained habit of reporting her every move, all because he’d always said he’d hate not knowing where to find her Whenever Philip messaged, she’d reply without thinking, telling him exactly where
she was.
