Chapter 18 #2
She cried pitifully. Looking at her, complex emotions surged through me. Although Anastasia and Anya had both warned me to stay away from her, saying she had ulterior motives, Isabella was still my childhood friend.
She was the one who came to see me when I first married into the Morozov family, comforting me.
During my loneliest times, she chatted with me and kept me from going insane.
And I knew what it felt like to be publicly humiliated, what it was like to become the focus of everyone's gossip.
In some ways, we were both victims of Kholod Morozov's unpredictable moods.
"This isn't your fault." I patted her hand gently. "I never blamed you."
"Really?" She looked up, eyes full of hope.
"Really," I said earnestly. "Kholod is just like that—he does everything on a whim."
"But..."
"Don't overthink it." I put my arm around her. "We're still friends. Rumors always pass eventually."
"Noelle..." She gripped my hand tightly, tears flowing again. "Only you truly understand me..."
"Stop crying." I handed her a handkerchief. "You're tonight's star—you can't let others see you cry."
She took the handkerchief and wiped her tears forcefully, trying to calm her emotions. We shifted to discussing fashion, and the atmosphere gradually became more relaxed.
Just as we were getting into our conversation, a large hand settled on my waist. Kholod had appeared behind me at some point.
"What are you two chatting about so happily?" His gaze moved between Isabella and me.
"Nothing much, just casual conversation," I said.
"Kholod!" Isabella immediately straightened up, her smile carrying a hint of nervousness. "I still need to greet other guests, so I'll excuse myself."
She left almost like she was escaping.
Kholod stared at her retreating figure for a few seconds, then looked back at me.
"She was crying again?"
"How did you know?"
"Her eyes are swollen." He said flatly. "What about?"
"She..." I hesitated. "She apologized to me about last time. Said the rumors outside are troubling her."
Kholod's brow furrowed slightly. "Those rumors—I'll have them handled. Come on, there are some people who want to meet you."
The next hour and a half was like a social marathon. Kholod led me through various circles, introducing me to every important figure. "This is my wife, Noelle."
Each time, his hand rested on my waist or he stood within half a step of me, using body language to announce to everyone—this woman belongs to him.
Unlike last time, compliments flowed like a tide. I smiled and responded appropriately, making polite but meaningless social conversation.
Kholod remained by my side throughout, never straying more than three feet away.
The gossip-loving Mrs. Anderson approached with champagne. "Mr. Morozov! Mrs. Morozov! You two are such a perfect match tonight!"
"Mrs. Anderson, good evening." I nodded politely.
"I was just chatting with some ladies, and everyone was praising you!" She looked at me, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "They said you're not only exceptionally beautiful but also very cultured and refined. By the way..."
She lowered her voice, pretending to be mysterious. "I saw Miss Vance talking with you earlier? Your relationship with her... with all the rumors flying around outside, I wonder what the truth is..."
I was hesitating on how to respond when Kholod's cold voice cut in.
"Miss Vance is dedicated to charity, and the Morozov family appreciates this spirit and provides support." His sharp gaze swept toward Mrs. Anderson. "As for our relationship, I consider her a little sister."
Mrs. Anderson was clearly surprised, too. "Oh! So that's how it is! I guess I was overthinking..."
"My wife is only Noelle." He tightened his arm, pulling me closer. "I hope everyone understands this clearly."
His voice wasn't loud, but every word was firm and authoritative.
Mrs. Anderson's face paled somewhat. "Of... of course, I understand completely. Mr. Morozov, I absolutely didn't mean anything else..."
"I hope so," Kholod said indifferently, then led me away.
By ten o'clock, the reception was winding down. When we said goodbye to Isabella, her smile was especially radiant.
"Thank you both for coming." Her gaze focused mainly on me. "Noelle, let's get together again sometime."
"Sounds good."
"If you need anything in the future, you can contact Dmitri." Kholod suddenly said. "The family will continue supporting your charitable work."
"Thank you, Kholod!"
He nodded without speaking and led me toward the exit.
In the car, I couldn't help asking, "Why were you so cold to Isabella?"
"I was just treating a sister appropriately." He fastened my seatbelt for me. "Being too close easily causes misunderstandings. Noelle, I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. You are my wife."
He was emphasizing this point again. Over and over, as if convincing others, but also as if convincing himself.
I leaned back in my seat, watching the passing night scenery through the window, recalling everything about tonight. From the moment we entered, he deliberately distanced himself from Isabella while keeping me closely protected at his side, announcing my status to the entire world.
This change puzzled me. Saying I wasn't moved would be a lie, but with the cause of my father's death still unclear, I couldn't let this brief warmth deceive me. I had experienced his cruelty and unpredictability too deeply—this might just be another, more sophisticated game.
I couldn't see through him. This sudden protection made me more uneasy than any previous torment.