Stood Up on Our Wedding Anniversary
He was at a welcome-home party for his ex-wife.
In a video that was already circulating, Julian, a notorious germaphobe who loathed physical contact, was seen embracing everyone in the room. When he reached his ex-wife, he paused for a moment before pulling her into a tight, lingering hug. A smile touched the lips of the man whose face was usually a mask of perfect composure.
It was then I realized with a sickening lurch that in five years as his wife, I had never once seen a real, unguarded emotion cross his face.
But I am Elara Vance, the sole heiress to the Vance fortune.
I get what I want.
And I would never stoop to the clownish drama of fighting another woman for a man.
1.
A photo of their embrace, snapped by some socialite, quickly found its way online.
Rumors of a rift in the marriage of the Marriott empires crown prince shot to the top of every major newsfeed.
Before I could even react, the trending topic, which had been marked with a blazing "EXPLODING" tag, vanished. The Marriott Corporations official account released a crisp statement. The most rabid posters were served with court summonses.
The entire affair was sterilized from the internet in less than ten minutes.
Julian Marriott would never allow anything to threaten the alliance between the Marriott and Vance families.
Just as I shut my phone, my name was splashed across every billboard in the city. A grand, public display, affirming my status and the respect due to Mrs. Marriott.
But I just stared at the neon lights, lost.
In five years, this was the first time.
The first time the ever-punctual, ever-organized man had missed our anniversary.
The next morning, as I was about to leave, I saw Julians car pulling into the driveway.
He stepped out, a child's brightly colored backpacka stark contrast to his usual refined elegancein one hand. In the other, he held the hand of a little girl.
He knelt, pulling the child into a hug, his eyes filled with a softness I had never seen before.
Following behind them was a woman in a simple white dress. I recognized her. Julian's ex-wife.
He saw me standing by my car and froze for a second before stopping.
"Elara," he began, his eyes downcast as if in explanation, "Lily has to attend school here in the city. It's an issue with her records."
Before I could speak, the woman beside him cut in. "Mrs. Marriott, I'm so sorry. I'm raising her on my own, I really had no other choice."
I looked down at her from the slight advantage of my heels, my voice dripping with scorn.
"My husband and I are speaking. Who gave you permission to interrupt?"
Julian frowned slightly but said nothing.
As the womans face flushed with humiliation, I turned to my husband, my expression hardening.
"Because of this morning's photos, the joint Vance-Marriott enterprise has already dropped ten percent."
My cold stare was enough to make the little girl in his arms burst into tears.
"Go away! He's my daddy!"
Julians frown deepened, and he quickly patted Lilys back to soothe her. He looked at me with a weary sort of helplessness.
"Elara, it was just a hug. And I've already had my team handle the crisis with the company." His tone was exasperated, but it was a familiar one, and it made my chest tighten.
It was the same as it had been for the past five years.
He would always protect my public dignity as Mrs. Marriott.
But he seemed to forget that I needed to be loved, too.
I had once tried to teach him how to make me happy. But now I realized that if a relationship needed to be taught, it was already a failure.
"Have them gone by the time I get home tonight," I said, turning my back to him, and drove to my office.
As the Vance heiress, I had little time to waste on intruders.
I worked until midnight. When I finally returned home, I was certain that the ever-pragmatic Julian would have handled the situation.
That certainty shattered the moment I opened the door.
"Mrs. Marriott," Mona said, having changed into a rather provocative silk nightgown. "You're back. I'll have the butler prepare dinner for you."
My eyes narrowed. Was she playing lady of the house?
I walked towards her, a mocking smile playing on my lips. I hooked a finger under the strap of her nightgown. "A fan of hand-me-downs?"
Mona's face stiffened, clearly thrown by my lack of reaction to her provocation.
"Can you just give him back to me?" she pleaded, her voice suddenly trembling. "There's no love between you. But my child needs her father."
I paused on the stairs and turned, one eyebrow raised.
"A family heiress needs profits, not love," I said, my smile turning derisive. "Your worldview is rather limited, isn't it?"
The disdain in my eyes was a direct hit to her fragile pride. The color drained from her face.
I was about to turn away when she lost control and blocked my path.
"You know he was with me last night, don't you? But do you know what we did?" She flashed her phone screen at me. A picture of a rumpled hotel bed filled the display. "Are you really that tolerant, Mrs. Marriott?"
I glanced down. I recognized Julians hand instantly.
The ring on his finger was the one I had placed there myself.
My own fingers curled into a fist, just for a second.
But on the surface, I was still the cool, untouchable Elara Vance.
"After a steady diet of caviar, I suppose even he craves something... common."
Mona gasped, her face turning crimson with humiliation.
Back in my room, I looked at the man already asleep in our bed. His usually perfect hair was mussed, falling softly across his forehead. I unconsciously touched the ring on my own hand. My fingers traced the line of his brow, down the bridge of his nose, and came to rest on his thin lips.
Julian, don't let me down.
2.
The next morning, I woke to an empty space beside me.
I opened the bedroom door to the sound of laughter.
A sound this cold, silent villa had never known.
I stood at the top of the stairs, looking down.
Julian, the man who hadn't set foot in our kitchen in the five years we'd been married, was frying eggs.
The innocent-looking woman and the sweet little girl were playing happily on the sofa.
A bitter, mocking smile touched my lips, and my eyes began to sting.
For a sickening moment, I felt like I was the intruder.
The harmonious atmosphere shattered the moment I reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Elara," Julian said, carrying a plate, his expression perfectly normal.
"When are you sending them away?" I asked. It was the first time I had ever used such a tone with him.
He didn't answer. Instead, he placed Lily in her high chair, made sure she was settled, and only then did he look up at me. His eyes held that restrained, tightly controlled impatience I had come to despise.
"I told you. She needs to go to school here."
A flash of irritation went through me. "Don't tell me the great Julian Marriott can't handle a simple school enrollment! Are you trying to keep the child close, or the woman?"
"Elara!" he cut me off, his voice a low warning. "Watch your tone. Mona is Lily's mother. The child is too young to be separated from her."
At the sound of our raised voices, the little girl shrieked and flung a bowl of hot porridge directly at me.
"I hate you!" she wailed. "You're the bad lady who broke up Mommy and Daddy!"
A searing pain shot through my leg. I winced, my eyes flashing towards her.
"I'm so sorry, she didn't mean it. She just misses her father so much," Mona said, quickly stepping in front of the girl, blocking my view.
I struggled to breathe past the tightness in my chest.
It was only then that I saw it clearly. The three of them looked like a perfect family.
And I was standing on the opposite side, a ridiculous obstacle.
A wave of fury washed over me, and I lost my composure. I stared coldly at Mona. "Do you really think the Marriott family would want an heir who, at five years old, is still a rude, ill-mannered little brat"
"Elara Vance!" Julian's voice was like ice, instantly extinguishing my anger. He faced me, his expression colder than I had ever seen it, devoid of any emotion.
"Lily is my daughter. As my wife, you will accept her presence. And today, you were unbecoming."
With that, he scooped up the tearful little girl and walked away.
Mona, naturally, picked up his briefcase. She glanced back at me, a flicker of triumph in her eyes.
The noisy villa fell silent once more.
A bitter taste filled my mouth. In Julian's eyes, I was the perfect Vance heiress, his elegant and composed wife. I wasn't allowed to have my own emotions. I was never, ever to lose my composure.
As the sound of the car engine faded, the strength seemed to drain from my spine, and I slumped forward.
Julian, you let me down after all.
Five years ago, during the global financial crisis, the Marriott and Vance families, the two titans of the city, had proposed a marriage alliance to fight off foreign capital. As the only Vance daughter, I chose the recently divorced Julian Marriott.
I knew he had an ex-wife and a daughter. But I thought, who doesn't have a past? Who doesn't have someone they remember fondly?
In our marriage, Julian was a near-perfect husband.
But now that a true exception to his perfectly controlled world had appeared, I realized I wasn't as calm as I thought I could be.
...
The next day was the Marriott family patriarch's birthday banquet. As Julian's wife, my attendance was required.
That evening, Julian arrived at the villa precisely on time.
In the car, an invisible wall stood between us. After a long silence, Julian seemed to relent. He sighed, raised the privacy divider, and moved to sit beside me.
"Elara," he said, breaking the silence. "The title of Mrs. Marriott will always be yours."
I felt the warmth of his hand covering mine and was momentarily dazed. I knew this was his way of making peace. The city lights flashed across his handsome face, and for a moment, his deep eyes reflected only me.
He held my hand all the way into the banquet hall, and I felt a flicker of hope.
But that hope was quickly extinguished.
"Julian," a voice called out. Mona, dressed in a stunning traditional gown, was greeting guests as if she were the lady of the house. She smoothly took the birthday gift from his hand before turning to me with a look of feigned, timid surprise. "Oh Mrs. Marriott."
I frowned but kept my composure in the crowded room. My eyes, however, demanded an explanation from Julian.
"She is Lily's mother," he said, his gaze unwavering. "It's Grandfather's birthday, and he wanted to see his great-granddaughter."
The fragile hope that had just begun to bloom within me withered and died.
"She's standing here, in the Marriott family home, playing hostess. Where does that leave me?"
Julian finally seemed to register my words, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
I pulled my hand from his, the warmth instantly replaced by a spreading chill.
A man like Julian Marriott, a perfect heir forged in the brutal wars of high society, couldn't possibly be blind to Mona's intentions.
He wasn't intervening.
He was allowing it.
Feeling the curious stares of the other guests, I forced the bitterness from my face and became the perfect marriage partner once more.
The lights and chatter swirled around me, my thoughts a tangled mess. Before I knew it, I had wandered out to the long veranda in the back garden to clear my head.
This was where Julian and I had first met.
Our story began in the deep autumn, we came together in the summer, and now, in the dead of winter, we were drifting apart.
"The great Elara Vance, being provoked to her face and still holding back?" a low, magnetic voice teased from behind me.
I turned. It was Caleb Blackwood, the current head of the Blackwood family.
"This isn't like you," he said, draping his jacket, which smelled of pine, over my shoulders, chasing away the cold. "Just say the word, and I can make her disappear."
I didn't find the offer strange in the slightest. In our world, if you weren't ruthless, you became a casualty of family politics.
"There's no need. She's not a real threat."
Caleb suddenly moved closer, his cool presence enveloping me. "Then why are you out here drinking your sorrows away?" He placed his hands on my shoulders. "When you chose your marriage alliance, I was too slow to deal with the obstacles in my own family. But now can you consider me?"
Caleb had always been a charming rogue around me. Seeing him so serious now, I was struck by how much he had changed from the boy I once knew.
"I'm still married to Julian, you know."
He shrugged. "I'm willing to be the other man. I'd be honored."
I laughed and playfully punched his arm. I was about to reply when a strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back.
Julian stood there, his face dark, glaring at Caleb. The temperature around the two alpha males seemed to drop several degrees.
"We're going home," Julian said, his voice clipped.
In the car, he raised the divider.
Then, to my astonishment, he leaned over me.
This was nothing like his usual tender kisses. This was a brutal, bruising claim that made me wince.
After a long moment, he pulled back, panting, his deep eyes swirling with an emotion I had never seen before.
"Elara," he rasped, "stay away from him."
3.
The pain on my lips made me push him away, a surge of anger rising within me.
I had merely exchanged a few words with Caleb. He, on the other hand, had paraded his ex-wife and child through my home. What right did he have to make demands of me?
"Why should I?" I asked, my voice cold.
Julian looked up, his dark eyes like whirlpools, pulling me in. "Because you are my woman."
I frowned. "No, I'm not. Mona is."
He actually chuckled, the usual frost on his face melting into something softer. "Mrs. Marriott, you're jealous."
I shoved him away, my actions fueled by a childish petulance I despised in myself. "Send them away."
The atmosphere instantly froze over. The smile vanished from Julian's face, as if the brief warmth had been a figment of my imagination.
"Elara," he said, loosening his tie with a sigh of immense weariness. "She is not a threat to you. Besides, Lily is my daughter. I can't just abandon her."
I stared out the window at the passing city lights, which were beginning to blur. A light rain had started to fall, smudging my view.
"I never told you not to take care of Lily."
Julian looked at me as if I were a petulant child. "Mona raised our daughter alone overseas for five years. I owe her."
A bitter, indescribable ache spread through my chest. "So you're telling me I just have to accept her presence in my life?"
He looked down, then turned my body to face him. His hand gently covered my eyes, which I knew were turning red. "I need you to understand. No matter what, you will always be my wife."
His evasive defense of her felt like a betrayal. Suddenly, the whole thing felt pointless. All the moments I had genuinely tried, all the effort I had put in, seemed utterly meaningless.
In this grand performance I had hoped for, he had let me down yet again.
Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.
[Miss Vance, Julian and I were inconsiderate today. I'm sorry.]
Attached was a photo. In it, Julian was holding Lily under the moonlight, while Mona stood beside them, smiling.
I narrowed my eyes. My chest felt tight, constricted.
It was a cheap trick, but a brutally effective one.
I tossed the phone to Julian, my voice devoid of emotion. "It seems I'm the third wheel in your relationship, aren't I?"
He looked down at the phone, and his first instinct was still to defend her. "She probably just felt you'd be upset and wanted to apologize."
I laughed, a sharp, angry sound. "Julian, are you playing dumb, or are you really this blind? Do I have to catch you in bed with her to get you to admit what's happening?!"
"Elara," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Watch what you say. Nothing inappropriate has happened between Mona and me."
I let out a cold laugh, a sob catching in my throat that only I could hear. "Nothing inappropriate? So it only counts if you're naked?"
The car fell silent. When I looked at Julian, his eyes were filled with a coldness I had never seen directed at me before. "Elara Vance, you are Mrs. Marriott. Show some damn grace!"
I don't know how to describe the feeling of that moment. The garden I had cultivated for him in my heart had turned to barren wasteland.
I fought back the bitterness, my eyes burning. "I have no grace? Ha"
"If I had no grace, I would have thrown them out the very first night! Would she have even had the chance to shove her bed photos in my face?"
"If I had no grace, when the photos of you two hit the internet, the Vance family would have already made her disappear!"
The sudden emotional outburst was fueled by the raw pain of being so completely misunderstood. It was like being pricked by the thorns of a rose. All anyone else saw was the beautiful flower, but all I felt was the piercing pain.
Julian looked stunned, his gaze fixed on my tear-filled eyes. "I"
I turned away and rolled down the window, letting the fine rain mist my face, hiding the pathetic tears.
"Do you know why my parents named me Elara?" I asked, speaking to no one in particular. "They said it's because I was their one and only. Unique."
I took a deep breath, pulling the dignity of the Vance heiress around me like a shield. "So, if to you, I am just a disposable piece in a game of profit and loss, then we are done."
Hearing this, a panic he didn't understand seized him. He turned and pulled me into a fierce embrace. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
4.
The moment we stepped into the villa, Mona appeared, holding a crying Lily, her face a mask of fragile distress.
"Julian, Lily won't stop crying for you, I"
But this time, Julian didn't take the child. Instead, he had the nanny take her back to her room.
Then, under Mona's bewildered gaze, he threw my phone at her.
"Apologize," he bit out. The sudden fury in his voice left Mona stunned.
She glanced at the phone, her eyes flashing with jealousy.
Julian looked at my cold, impassive face and lost his patience. "Elara is my wife. Don't send her things that could be misunderstood."
Perhaps it was the first time she had ever seen him so stern. Mona's eyes immediately filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Miss Vance," she sobbed, a picture of wounded pride. "My wording was inappropriate. Please forgive me."
I met her gaze, my own eyes cold. I stepped forward and tilted her chin up with one hand, my voice dripping with contempt. "'Miss Vance'? If the words 'Mrs. Marriott' are too difficult for you to say, I don't mind having someone pry your mouth open." I looked down at her. "Drop the act. Or I will show you just how many arrogant little fools are locked away in the Vance family's basements."
Mona swayed, her face pale as a sheet.
Julian frowned and stepped in. "That's enough. She knows she was wrong. I'll buy a separate house for you and Lily. Don't come here or to the main estate again."
He stood up, subtly shielding Mona from my gaze.
Mona looked at him in disbelief. Tears streamed down her face as she took Lily and left the villa.
But the very next evening, she was back, kneeling before me, her face streaked with tears. Julian stood beside her, his expression grim.
"Mrs. Marriott, I was wrong! I never should have disturbed your life! But Lily is innocent! She's just a child! I'm begging you, please let her go!"
I frowned, my face a mask of ice. "Watch your mouth. Who do you think you are, trying to pin something on me?"
Julian, who had been silent, stepped forward, his face darker than I had ever seen it. "The kidnapper's phone was traced back to the son of your family's butler." He closed his eyes, fighting for control. "Elara, the child is innocent. Hand her over to me, and I can let this go."
I stared at him in disbelief. "You think I'm that kind of person?"
Perhaps my expression was too full of pain. He looked away. "I have to believe the evidence."
In that instant, our five-year marriage felt like a joke.
It took me five years to understand that some people, some things, should never have been a part of my life.
I reined in my emotions, my voice flat. "Julian Marriott, in the end, you still managed to disappoint me." Seeing the confusion in his eyes, I added, "If Elara Vance wants to get rid of someone, she wouldn't be stupid enough to use her own servants."
I turned to the trembling Mona. "Even a viper doesn't eat its own young. You're a special kind of monster."
I looked at the two of them standing side-by-side, my heart filled with scorn.
As I left, I called my assistant. "Prepare divorce papers for Julian Marriott and myself. And," I closed my eyes, opening them again to reveal nothing but cold resolve, "pull all domestic Vance investments from Marriott Industries. Divest from our overseas joint enterprise. Contact the Blackwood family. I want Marriott Industries' stock to hit rock bottom. Within three days."
I hung up. Outside the car window, the rain had stopped.
"Julian Marriott," I whispered to the empty car. "I'm going to show you what regret really means."
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