Chapter 23
Glancing at my wristwatch, I pulled out my phone and typed a message to Sloane. Sliding into the backseat, I let the driver close the door behind me. Leaning back, I kept my eyes on the screen as my fingers moved. I decided to stop by the office—just to check on the process.
Once the message was sent, I locked my phone and crossed my arms, shutting my eyes for the entire ride. When I opened them again, the car was already pulling up in front of the company.
"I'll be right back," I said with a faint smile before stepping out.
Inside the lobby, employees bowed politely as I passed. I acknowledged them with a subtle nod and stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for my floor.
A soft chime later, the doors slid open. The floor was quiet—most of the staff had already gone home. My pace slowed as a murmur of voices drifted from the nearby pantry.
"You know what?" one voice began. "Don't you think it's strange how Duvall Capital Group had a full rescue plan ready so quickly... almost like they anticipated the collapse of DeLacroix Couture and Luxury House?"
I stopped in my tracks, leaning against the wall, hands sliding into my pockets as I listened.
"It is strange," another agreed. "Too fast. Though maybe it's just their strategy—after all, finance is their game."
"Well, from what I've heard," a third voice chimed in, lowering with mock secrecy, "Ms. Duvall—sorry, should we be saying Mrs. DeLacroix now?
—earned herself the title The Velvet Guillotine in business circles.
Brutal as hell when she invests. She'll either bleed a company dry or force her way into controlling the elites.
And honestly? They say she's not just brains—she's got the body too. "
Laughter rippled, but someone cut in sharply. "Hey, watch it. That's the CEO's wife you're talking about."
"What? I'm just being honest," the voice protested. "Perfect body, perfect face. No wonder the CEO said yes to that marriage."
"You've got it wrong," another countered. "They weren't just a business arrangement. Ms. Aurora and Ms. Duvall go way back—they were together at university. Everyone knows that."
"Fine," the first voice snorted. "But do you really think their relationship will last? Anyone wanna place a bet?"
I heaved a sigh as I stepped into the pantry, heading straight toward their corner.
"Gentlemen," I greeted coolly, resting one hand on the table. Their chatter died instantly. Wide-eyed, they scrambled upright and bowed their heads.
"Ms. Aurora—nice to see you here," one of them stammered.
I hummed softly, pulling out my phone. Without a word, I snapped pictures of each of their ID badges. Then I slid the phone back into my pocket.
"You know," I began, straightening, "talking behind people's backs doesn't exactly reflect well on your character. Imagine if I decided to spread rumors about each of you. Would you like that?" My brow arched.
Silence. Heads lowered. Hands clasped like guilty schoolboys.
"Which one of you," I asked evenly, my gaze sweeping over them, "thought it was appropriate to comment on my wife's body?"
The group hesitated, then all fingers pointed at the man nearest to me. He kept his head down until I reached out and lifted his chin with two fingers.
"Thank you for appreciating my wife's body," I said, voice edged with mock sweetness.
"But it is not your place to speak of her as though you wanted something from her.
" My eyes flicked to his left hand, where a wedding band caught the light.
"How ironic—you wear a ring and still talk about another person's wife?
" I scoffed, giving him a shove that made him stumble slightly.
Then I turned on the rest, pointing at them one by one.
"Let me be clear. I don't want rumors. I don't want bets.
And I don't want disrespect in my empire.
Consider this your warning. If I hear of anything like this again—HR will be the least of your worries.
Pack your things and say goodbye to your salaries and positions. Am I understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," they mumbled in unison.
"Good." I pivoted toward the door but paused, glancing back.
"And one more thing—stop wasting your time betting on how long my marriage will last. It's pointless.
My wife and I signed a prenup with no divorce clause.
Which means we're for life. So why don't you focus on your own lives, your own work, and maybe find something to be proud of. .. instead of digging into mine."
I left the pantry, the sound of muffled bickering trailing behind me as they turned on each other. Without sparing them another glance, I continued down the hall toward my office. My steps slowed when I noticed Celeste still at her station.
I stopped in front of her desk, rapping lightly on the surface.
She glanced up, blinking in surprise before quickly rising and bowing. "Ms. Aurora. I thought you were on leave for the week?"
I hummed, nodding. "I am. Just thought I'd drop by for a short while.
" A faint smile touched my lips. My eyes flicked to the clock.
"And what about you? Why are you still here at this hour?
You don't have a mountain of reports, do you?
We just finished a board meeting—the next one isn't until next week. "
Celeste rubbed the back of her neck, offering me a sheepish smile. "Well... I was finishing the draft for the next meeting. So you could review it in advance, Ms. Aurora."
I tilted my head, sighing softly. "That can wait until tomorrow, Celeste. Go home and rest."
I shifted the small paper bag in my hand and paused. "Oh, right—here." I placed it on her desk. "Sol and I went to Oxford over the weekend. We picked up a few things, thought I'd give you some."
Her eyes widened slightly before she bowed her head again. "Thank you, Ms. Aurora."
A quiet chuckle escaped me as I watched her straighten. "It's nothing. You've been a great help, checking all those reports before they even reach my desk." My smile softened. "Now, really—go home. Most of the floor's empty already."
I straightened, adjusting my jacket. "Anyway, I'll go ahead. I need to fetch Sol from her office." I gave her a casual wave before heading toward the elevators.
As I stepped inside and pressed for the lobby, my phone chimed. I pulled it out, glancing at the notification.
Just got back to the office, can you come here? Or shall I head to your office?
I couldn't help but smile to myself. As the elevator chimed open, I typed back quickly: I'll head to you, wait for me there.
Still smiling faintly, I strode toward the exit, focused on my phone. My driver was waiting outside. I tapped on the window before sliding into the backseat.
"Please head to Duvall Capital Group," I instructed, settling back into the seat. My thoughts drifted restlessly, replaying the words I'd overheard in the pantry. I rubbed at my temple, forcing the irritation aside.
The ride didn't take long—barely ten minutes. When the car pulled up in front of Sloane's office, I leaned forward slightly. "I'll be riding back with Sol. No need to wait—head back to the mansion and get some rest. Thank you."
I offered the driver a faint smile before stepping out, my heart already easing at the thought of seeing her.
Walking toward the entrance, I felt the lingering stares of employees still scattered around the lobby. The concierge offered me a polite smile, but the whispers drifting nearby couldn't escape my ears.
"Damn, is she Ms. Duvall's wife? She looks exactly like Ms. Verne."
I kept my expression neutral, pretending I hadn't heard, though frustration coiled in my chest.
"But honestly, compared to Ms. Verne, Ms. Duvall's wife... Ms. DeLacroix is far more attractive."
A sigh slipped past my lips as I focused on the concierge, who darted an uneasy glance at the employees before looking back at me.
"Hi," I greeted calmly. "I'm here to see Sloane Duvall. I'm her wife."
The concierge bowed slightly. "Yes, Ma'am. Ms. Duvall informed us you'd be arriving. This way, please." She stepped out from behind the station, tapping her ID against the turnstile to let me through. Then she guided me toward the elevators.
"Thank you," I murmured with a subtle nod. She pressed the panel for Sloane's floor before bowing once more and leaving me.
Leaning against the wall, I let out a quiet chuckle. Half a year married, and this is my first time stepping into her empire. The thought made me shake my head softly.
The elevator chimed, and when the doors opened, I stepped into a sleek corridor lined with glass partitions. I scanned the space, unsure which way to go.
"Ms. DeLacroix?" a voice called gently. I turned to see Millie, Sloane's secretary, smiling as she approached.
"Ms. Sloane's waiting for you. This way, please," she said, ushering me down the hall.
We stopped before a glass wall. Beyond it, I saw Sloane standing at her desk, carefully tucking items into her bag. When she looked up and saw me, her face brightened. She waved, motioning me to come in. Millie opened the door, gesturing me forward.
I stepped inside, and as I crossed the room, Sloane came to meet me, her arms outstretched. I chuckled, melting into her embrace.
"So? Did you close the deal?" I asked, stroking her hair.
She shook her head with a small hum. "I'm having second thoughts about it," she admitted with a shrug, pulling back from the hug. "Anyway, have you decided where we should go for dinner?"
I followed her toward the desk, but my steps faltered when my eyes caught a familiar sight—a porcelain doll displayed neatly on the polished surface. My fingers brushed lightly against it.
Sloane noticed and chuckled. "That doll is you. My doll's sitting on your couch."
A low laugh slipped from me. "I thought you'd thrown it away," I whispered.
"I thought about it," she confessed, gripping the strap of her handbag.
"But it's one of the things I couldn't let go of.
Even after we broke up years ago, I kept it.
Because when I looked at it... I didn't feel so alone.
It was like a piece of you was still here. Still near me, even if you'd left me."
Her words made my lips quiver into a pout. I closed the distance between us, burying my face against her shoulder. "You're going to make me cry," I mumbled, clinging to her like she was my lifeline. Because she always had been.
?·???°???°???·?
As we entered the restaurant Sloane had been eager to try, I didn't expect to stumble upon the one person I least wanted to see. I froze as he appeared before us, his eyes darting from me, to Sloane, and back again.
"Ro," Sloane murmured, blinking as she looked between us. I tightened my grip on her hand, forcing myself to stand tall in front of the man I had only ever seen in photographs.
My lips twitched as he blocked our path, his broad shoulders and polished attire radiating wealth. A lump rose in my throat as I gave him the faintest of bows. "Fancy seeing you here tonight..." My breath hitched as I straightened, meeting his gaze. "Papa."
A soft gasp escaped Sloane. I turned toward her, offering the faintest smile. She had never seen him before. Truthfully, neither had I—not in any way that mattered.
"Rory." His voice was low, careful. His hand started to lift toward me, but I stepped back sharply. He blinked, sighing as it fell uselessly at his side. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"I heard from your niece that you're no longer living in Monaco. So... why are you here?" My frown deepened.
He let out a soft laugh, clicking his tongue as he slid his hands into his pockets. His gaze lingered on Sloane, a subtle nod, before settling back on me. "Am I not allowed to visit when the Petrou clan is in town?" Another sigh. "Come, let's have dinner togeth—"
"I have a reservation with my wife tonight." My voice cut through his smoothly rehearsed tone. I didn't want this. I didn't want him. My injured hand tightened at my side as I forced my emotions under control.
His brows arched, eyes narrowing. "Wife?" He tilted his head, studying me. "You're married? You didn't invite your father to the wedding?"
"Father?" I spat, a bitter laugh breaking from me. "How are you my father when I grew up never knowing what one even was?"
"Ro..." Sloane whispered, her grip tightening around mine, her other hand bracing my arm as I stepped forward.
My father's attention shifted to her. He chuckled, extending his hand. "Well. I'm Aurora's father. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Sloane glanced at me, hesitating, then sighed. "Sloane. Sloane Duvall, sir." She shook his hand briefly before pulling away.
"Duvall," he echoed, a flicker of recognition lighting his face. "Ah, of Duvall Capital Group, of course."
She gave him a faint, polite smile.
He nodded, then turned back to me. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Rory, have dinner with the family tonight. It's been far too long. And I'd very much like to see your wife properly introduced to your father's side."
"No." My voice was firm, unyielding. I met his eyes without flinching. "My wife and I have a table reserved for two. We're not joining your family."
Sloane's grip on my hand tightened. I glanced at her—she shook her head slightly, as if to warn me not to push further. I opened my mouth to speak again, but a voice behind me cut through the tension.
"Uncle!"
I groaned. Of all people.
Thalia swept past, her tone bright as she greeted my father. Then she turned—and froze when her eyes landed on me. "Rory!" she exclaimed, rushing forward. Before I could stop her, she threw her arms around me, oblivious to Sloane standing at my side.
Sloane cleared her throat. The sharp sound made Thalia release me, finally noticing her. Thalia's gaze shifted, locking on Sloane. My chest tightened when their eyes met—Sloane's wide with recognition, Thalia's sharp with surprise.
"I know you," Thalia spoke first, beating Sloane to it. "Aren't you Aurora's ex? Why are you here with her?"
My father blinked, stunned, his brow lifting as he glanced between us.
I felt the weight of Sloane's stare burning into me. I turned slowly toward her. Her eyes were narrowed, suspicious.
"Aurora," she said carefully, her tone edged with warning.
My throat went dry. "I think there's a misunderstanding," I rushed in, looking from Thalia to Sloane.
"What misunderstanding?" Sloane's eyes darkened, her brow furrowing. She jabbed her finger toward Thalia. "I remember you. You're Aurora's... fling, weren't you?"
Thalia gasped, covering her mouth. I groaned, pressing a hand to my forehead.
Back then—after Sloane and I broke up—I had asked Thalia to pretend. To flirt, to act close. Anything that would make Sloane believe I'd moved on. Anything that would force her to let me go.
"What's going on here?" my father interjected, his voice sharp with disbelief. "How could Rory and Thalia be a fling when they're cousins?"
"Cousins?" Sloane echoed, stunned. Her eyes flicked between us, searching for proof in features that didn't match. My DeLacroix blood ran too strong for the Petrou resemblance to show.
I let out a long sigh. "Thalia isn't my fling. She's my cousin. Her father—" I gestured toward the man in front of me, "is his brother. I only asked her to help me pretend, back then. To make you believe I'd found someone else. To make you... stop chasing me."
"How heartless," my father muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.
I shot him a glare. "Not nearly as heartless as abandoning your wife and your only daughter, sir."
My lips curled bitterly.
Sloane scoffed, raising a brow. "Wow," she muttered. Her voice cut deeper than she probably intended. "Guess you took after him, huh? You abandoned me just as easily."
An almost choking laugh slipped from Thalia, her face flushing with amusement. "This is so much fun," she said, grinning at me. "Why don't you two join the family dinner, Rory? Come on—it's the first time this month I'll be seeing you since I just got back from abroad."
Without much of a choice, Sloane and I agreed.
When we entered the private dining room, my throat tightened. At the head of the table sat my grandfather, posture regal and watchful. Around him were Thalia's parents and her brother. But my gaze faltered when it landed on the woman smiling beside my father—his new wife.
"Holy—" Thalia's father stopped mid-curse, then broke into a grin as he rose to his feet. "Aurora, my niece!" He strode over and pulled me into a hug before I could react.
I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Uncle," I muttered under my breath.
He pulled back, beaming, then turned his attention to Sloane at my side. "And this must be your wife?" His eyes lit with approval before he clapped my shoulder. "Well, kid, you've got good taste."
I only shook my head as we were ushered to the table. Sloane sat quietly to my left, while Thalia slid into the chair on my right.
It had been years since I'd sat with this side of the family. After my mother died, I stopped visiting. Back then, she had insisted I keep paying respects to them—even without my father at my side. But after she was gone, so was any tether I had left.
My father's new wife tried speaking to me, welcoming me as though I were her own daughter.
I couldn't bring myself to resent her. She hadn't stolen my father away—he had abandoned my mother, divorced her when I was still a child.
Perhaps some people were just built that way—incapable of carrying the weight of responsibility.
As dinner came to an end, Sloane and I stood, offering polite farewells to the Petrou clan. But instead of heading straight home, Sloane tugged my hand gently and insisted we stop by the Japanese Garden by the Sea.
Looking at her, I couldn't help but wonder—would Sloane truly choose to stay by my side and face everything I carried, or would she decide it was easier to walk away, to avoid the weight of responsibility altogether?
A smile tugged at my lips. Whatever she chose, I knew I would give it to her without hesitation.
"Why didn't you tell me she was your cousin?" Sloane broke the silence, her tone softer than I expected.
I glanced at her, tightening my grip on her hand. "Did you really believe I had a fling right after we broke up?"
She hummed, chuckling faintly. "I mean... even back at university, you had people chasing you—girls, boys, everyone. It wouldn't have been impossible."
I exhaled, shaking my head. "I'm sorry if I let you think that. But it was for your sake, too. I didn't want you running after me. That would've only hurt you more. I thought... if you hated me, it would be easier for you to move on."
My smile was faint, bitter at the edges, as I turned my gaze toward the glistening garden ahead of us.
Sloane sighed. "I still don't know why you really broke up with me, Aurora." Her voice carried both accusation and ache, pulling me still.
I led her toward the koi ponds, the lantern light dancing across the water as orange and white fins rippled beneath the surface. Leaning against the wooden railing, I stared down, unable to face her just yet.
"I told you before, didn't I?" My voice came out low, almost drowned by the gentle splash of water. "I just did what they wanted me to do. I followed orders from my mother."
Sloane's breath caught. "So it was because of her?"
I finally turned to meet her eyes.
"Was it because she didn't want me with you?" she pressed, her voice trembling between disbelief and anger. "Because I didn't come from a wealthy family? But... they knew about us, Aurora. We visited them so many times back then. They saw how happy we were together."
Shaking my head, I cupped her face gently, forcing her eyes to meet mine.
"It's not because they didn't want you for me.
It was... something else. My mother said she didn't want me to break up with you, but she insisted it was for the best. You know how it is in business—you let go of something precious, call it collateral damage, just to prevent something worse from happening. "
Sloane's lips parted, her expression hardening.
"You grew up in wealth, Ro. Is that how you see it?
Are feelings just part of the transaction for you?
Because the way you talk... it sounds like you invested emotions in me, and the moment you thought you were losing your capital, you pulled out.
Just declared bankruptcy and walked away. Is that what we were to you?"
Her scoff cut deep, leaving my breath caught in my throat.
I exhaled slowly, leaning my back against the railing, my elbows propped on its edge as I looked up at the night sky. The stars blurred with the ache rising in my chest. "Maybe... maybe it was like a business investment in the way I handled it," I admitted, my voice low, broken at the edges.
Turning back to her, I let a small, aching smile curve my lips. "But Sol, what I felt for you then... what I still feel now—it's real. Every part of it. I really do love you, even now."