Chapter 13
“I’m married,” Lucien said.
Pamela looked surprised. She asked, “When did this happen? Is it to this lovely lady beside you?”
The usually well–informed Lucien had caught the other guests off guard. Everyone turned to look, shock written all over their faces.
Lucien was already married?
This news had never leaked to the public before, so it was genuinely surprising to many people.
Ophelia was the Marchand family heiress, and the two families had long–standing ties. Their relationship was common knowledge. throughout Dorcan, and Ophelia seemed like the most likely candidate to become Mrs. Fenwick.
The murmurs of conversation gradually died down as everyone waited for his answer.
Lucien said calmly, “She’s unwell today and couldn’t attend. I’ll bring her next time.”
If it wasn’t Ophelia, then who could it be?
Pamela nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Well, I look forward to meeting the young lady who managed to win your heart. I’m quite curious Jabout which family’s daughter managed to capture your heart.”
“Of course.”
The socialites and heiresses at the party were seething when they learned that Lucien was married. They’d all assumed that he would eventually marry Ophelia, but he’d been married all along, and to someone else entirely.
Many of the young women had been holding out hope, thinking that they might still have a chance. As it turned out, he’d been off the market the whole time. It was just kept private.
The more mysterious his wife’s identity remained, the more curious everyone became. They were dying to know who she was. In all of Dorcan, there were only a handful of elite families whose parties Lucien would actually attend.
He didn’t stay long at the event. Barely an hour had passed before he left. Galen was behind the steering wheel with Ophelia in the passenger seat on the drive back. The car was quiet as usual.
Only Lucien kept checking his phone, as if waiting for a message from someone. After a while, he turned the phone off and tossed it aside, closing his eyes to rest.
On the way back to the Juniville estate, it started pouring. Lightning flashed across the dark highway, and thunder rumbled overhead. Rain hammered against the windows with a chaotic noise that was utterly grating.
As Lucien dozed lightly, a soft voice suddenly echoed in his mind. “Hold me, please? It’s thundering. I’m scared.”
The tender memory suddenly shifted. “Let’s… get divorced.”
Lucien’s eyes snapped open, his heart pounding like it might burst from his chest. This panicked feeling was utterly foreign to him.
“We’re here, sir,” Galen announced.
Lucien was about to get out when, in the pitch–black rain outside the gate, lightning briefly illuminated the night sky. He saw a figure huddled by the entrance, who had her arms wrapped around herself and was shivering from the cold.
Galen was reaching for an umbrella when he saw that the man in the back seat had already thrown open the door and was striding out
into the rain.
“Mr. Fenwick, the umbrella!”
However, Lucien didn’t respond. Ophelia watched him walk into the rain, and her heart felt like it had been stabbed.
When it came to playing the victim and winning sympathy to make Lucien change his mind, she really couldn’t compete with Calista.
Calista was in too much pain to stand up. Her lower abdomen was cramping severely. Her uterus would react this way whenever she got cold or caught a chill.
Cold sweat had broken out across her forehead. She was pale from the pain and trembling uncontrollably.
She had no idea when this rain would stop. She hadn’t known that it would rain that day. Calista breathed on her freezing hands and rubbed them together.
Soon, a pair of black leather shoes appeared in her downcast field of vision. A familiar, indifferent voice came from above her. “Get up.
Calista’s legs had gone numb from crouching. She used the wall behind her for support as she pulled herself up. Lucien reached out to grab her arm, but Calista swatted his hand away. Her eyes were cold as she stared at him. “Galen said that if I came back, you’d release Anthony. I’m here now. Are you going to keep your word?”
“Let’s talk inside,” Lucien said.
you asked. If you think Calista grabbed his arm, refusing to move. “We can talk right here. What exactly do you want? I’ve knelt like
rong, fine-I admit it! divorcing you is my fault or if you want me to admit that I’m
“Anthony has a child. He can’t go to jail. I’m begging you, Lucien.”
Lucien’s dark eyes studied her intently.
Then another voice cut in. “This isn’t Lucien’s fault. Your brother’s factory had real problems to begin with, Calista. If you had any sense, you wouldn’t be talking to Lucien like this.
“Besides, Fenwick Group invested in your brother’s factory. When problems arise, we have every right to protect our interests before things spiral out of control.
“If Anthony got arrested, it’s because his own greed led him to do things he shouldn’t have. That’s what led the authorities to uncover the violations.”
Ophelia walked over to Lucien in her evening gown, holding an umbrella. It was clear that they’d just come from some social event. They’d been at a party while she waited here for nearly four hours.
Calista almost laughed. “Really? If there were problems, why not fix them earlier? Why did it happen right when I wanted to divorce Lucien? What a coincidence that Anthony got in trouble just then.
“And Ms. Ophelia, this is between Lucien and me. What gives you the right to interfere? Is it as the future second Mrs. Fenwick?”
