His Fiancée's Shadow

I am the most useless child of the Hayes family.

When my sister, Sloane, was closing a ten-billion-dollar semiconductor deal in Europe, I was in the glass conservatory on the top floor of our Connecticut estate, tending to my flowers and herbs that nobody cared about.

At my father’s birthday gala, Sloane, as the heiress to the family empire, was on his arm, bathing in the adoration and envy of the entire room.

Under the flashbulbs of the paparazzi, she was a diamond, born to dazzle.

And I was the gravel in the shadows of the corner, a girl whose name the guests couldn't be bothered to remember.

Someone holding a champagne flute raised it to me, their face a polite mask of distant curiosity. "And this young lady is?"

Before I could answer, a Mrs. Gable nearby stepped in with a knowing smile. "A distant relative of Mr. Hayes, I'd imagine. Probably her first time at a party like this."

Her voice was just loud enough for me to hear.

For twenty years, I've been the punchline to the Hayes family joke.

1

My mother, once the undisputed queen of the Manhattan social scene, married my father, the corporate titan Warren Hayes.

A merger of dynasties. They had my sister, Sloane.

Sloane was the name my grandfather chose. It was sleek, sharp, and successful. A perfect overture.

She never disappointed.

At three, she could recite Shakespearean sonnets. At seven, she performed at Carnegie Hall. At fifteen, she was accepted into Wharton, and at twenty-two, she returned to the company and turned her first investment into a nine-figure profit.

She was the perfect, flawless heiress.

So, when my mother had me in an unplanned second pregnancy, everyone considered it a bonus.

"With a daughter like Sloane, the next one is bound to be just as brilliant."

But I let them all down.

I didn't have my sister's photographic memory or her ruthless business acumen. I was indifferent to numbers, allergic to cocktail parties, and I despised any social gathering that required a plastered-on smile.

My name is Audrey.

Sloane and Audrey.

Even our names felt like a deliberate, cruel irony.

One is a declaration of success, the other, a quiet afterthought.

My parents are civilized people. They pride themselves on being progressive, and would never admit to playing favorites.

But actions speak louder than words.

On family outings, my father's right hand was always reserved for my mother, his left always holding Sloane's.

I could only trail behind them, a forgotten accessory.

Sloane’s twenty-fifth birthday party was also a celebration of her being officially named the sole heir to the Hayes Corporation.

My father, drunk on champagne and pride, slung his arm around a business rival's shoulder, pointing to the incandescent Sloane under the chandeliers.

"That's my daughter," he slurred, his voice thick with emotion. "The greatest achievement of my life."

The man offered a polite congratulations. "You're a lucky man, Warren. But don't you have a younger daughter as well?"

The smile on my father’s face faltered. He waved a dismissive hand, a flicker of old regret and fresh annoyance crossing his features.

"Don't even mention her," he said. "Sometimes I wish we'd just stopped with Sloane."

"It's a shame we had Audrey, too."

The entire ballroom seemed to fall silent for a moment.

Standing in the crowd, I felt as if I’d been stripped naked and thrown into a snowbank.

Later, my father must have sobered up and realized his mistake. He summoned me to his study, a rare occurrence.

"Audrey, don't take it to heart. Your father had too much to drink."

He handed me a black card with no spending limit.

"What I meant was, Sloane can stand on her own two feet now, and I'm very proud."

"But you... you still need us to worry about you. The weight on my shoulders is still heavy."

You see, a rich man’s apology is just another form of charity.

I lowered my eyes and took the cold, plastic card. "I know, Dad."

…He didn't mean it, he'd just finally said what he'd been suppressing for twenty years.

2

The year I turned eighteen, Sloane brought her fiancé, Harrison Pierce, home.

The Pierces were true East Coast blue bloods, and Harrison was the brightest star of his generation.

His union with Sloane Hayes was billed as "the marriage of two empires."

That day, a severe pollen allergy had confined me to my room. I’d told the housekeeper I wouldn't be down.

So when Sloane led Harrison on a tour of the house and pushed open my bedroom door, everyone froze.

Sloane frowned, her voice edged with impatience. "Audrey, what are you doing home?"

Clearly, no one had told me we were having such an important guest.

And no one had remembered that I, their other daughter, also lived in this house.

Harrison stood in the doorway, his gaze traveling past my sister to land on me. He wore a perfectly tailored gray suit, his aura cool and aristocratic, but his eyes were kind.

He didn't show the slightest surprise, just offered a small nod. "Hello. I'm Harrison."

I scrambled to sit up in bed, mortified. I was wearing a pilled, old pajama set, my face blotchy and red from the allergy.

And standing next to him was my sister, radiant in a Chanel couture suit, her makeup flawless.

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

"She's my sister, Audrey," Sloane's introduction was brief, almost reluctant, as if she were pointing out a piece of unfortunate furniture.

"She's not well, stays in her room all day. I didn't want her to disturb you, so I didn't have her come down."

My mother quickly smoothed things over with a laugh. "It must be fate for Audrey and Harrison to meet like this."

My excuse of "I'm not feeling well" died on my lips.

I was forced to sit at the dinner table next to the elegant, impeccable Sloane, my swollen face a testament to my misery.

I didn't need a mirror to know how cruel the comparison was.

While Harrison was on the phone, I whispered to my mother, "Mom, the allergy is getting worse. I'm having trouble breathing. Can we please call the doctor?"

My mother shot me a glare, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Don't make a scene. This is Harrison's first time here, it's an important day! Can't you be considerate for once?"

I bit my lip. "Then can I at least go back to my room?"

"You'll sit here and behave. Do you want the Pierces to think the Hayes family has no manners?"

I ate that meal feeling like I was being slowly suffocated.

Harrison was a true gentleman, his good breeding ingrained in every gesture.

Even though the conversation revolved around finance and acquisitions, he always managed to steer a sliver of attention my way.

"Audrey's room is very unique," he said suddenly. "It has a very distinctive scent."

3

The table went quiet.

Sloane laughed, a dismissive, airy sound. "Audrey just likes to mess around with that useless stuff. All those little bottles and jars give me a headache just looking at them."

My father shook his head in agreement. "A young woman should learn something useful. Like finance, or management."

For the first time in my life, I defended myself in front of my family.

"It's not just a scent," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "It's a perfume I blended myself. The top note is galbanum, the heart is iris and lily of the valley, and the base is oakmoss. I call it 'First Rain'."

A flicker of surprise, then genuine appreciation, crossed Harrison's face. "'First Rain.' That's a beautiful name. It's cool and damp with green notes… it really does smell like a valley after a storm. You have a gift."

In twenty years, that was the first time anyone had ever validated my "useless" passion.

My heart, in that moment, felt a small tremor, like a stone dropped into still water, sending out endless ripples.

After dinner, as Harrison was leaving, Sloane went to get the car.

He walked over to me and handed me a small, elegant gift box.

"A little something for our first meeting."

Everyone else assumed it was some expensive piece of jewelry.

Sloane glanced at the box, a smirk playing on her lips.

I went back to my room and opened it.

It wasn't a luxury item. Inside was a complete, professional-grade perfumer's organ, along with several vials of rare, raw essences.

One of them was Rose de Mai from Grasse, an essence I had been searching for for months.

There was also a card, handwritten by Harrison in strong, elegant script.

"For the master perfumer of the future."

I clutched the card, my eyes suddenly burning.

Sloane pushed the door open, her eyes landing on the kit. Her expression was a mixture of amusement and contempt.

"Harrison certainly has a lot of time on his hands, buying you toys for your little games."

She picked up the vial of Rose de Mai, sniffed it, and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"I thought Harrison had better taste. Turns out he can be fooled by these cheap little tricks, too."

She tossed the bottle carelessly onto my vanity.

"Audrey, you'd better learn your place. Don't think a single compliment from Harrison Pierce means you've suddenly made it. In the Hayes family, in the Pierce family, in this entire world, your little hobby isn't even worthy of being a joke."

I silently picked up the vial of precious essence and placed it carefully back in its box.

A voice inside me whispered, At least he sees me more clearly than you, my own sister, ever have.

4

Harrison's gift became the only light in my gray existence.

I began to study perfumery systematically, spending all my days and nights in my glass conservatory.

I created fragrances I named 'Solstice,' 'First Frost,' 'Harvest Moon'…

I named my creations after the quiet, turning moments of the seasons, my only way of fighting back against this cold, sterile mansion.

My allergies gradually improved. I became a little brighter.

I cut the heavy bangs I used to hide behind, revealing my forehead.

My features were nothing compared to my sister's stunning beauty, but at least now, I could smile at my reflection.

My mother was a high priestess of fashion.

Normally, if Sloane changed her lipstick shade from a Tom Ford to a Christian Louboutin, my mother could not only identify it but discuss the subtle shifts in power projected by different application techniques.

My new haircut went entirely unnoticed for a full week.

Still, I tried.

At a family dinner, I finally spoke up. "Mom, do you notice anything… different about me today?"

My mother's gaze lifted from a financial journal, swept across my face, and then she waved her hand impatiently, as if shooing away a fly.

"Sloane is having some trouble with the European project. I have a headache. Don't bother me."

In that instant, any desire I had to share my life with them evaporated.

From that day on, I don't think I ever told them another thing about myself.

Not even when I won the "Rising Star" award at an international perfumery competition. If they didn't ask, I didn't tell.

Perhaps my newfound silence was a relief to them.

On my twentieth birthday, my father gave me a large check and the deed to a villa with a garden on the outskirts of the city.

He called it a "coming-of-age present."

In reality, I knew what it was. I was being gracefully, permanently, exiled.

My mother's talk was cushioned with concern.

"Audrey, you're a grown woman now. You need your own space. With all the business talk and people coming and going here, it must be disruptive for you. It will be quieter for you to move out."

"And your sister and Harrison will be getting engaged soon. We're redecorating the whole house. It will be a mess, and we wouldn't want your allergies to act up again."

Every word was for my own good.

And every word was telling me that there was no longer a place for me in this house.

After a long silence, I quietly accepted.

Sloane was there the day I moved. Dressed in sharp riding gear, she had just come back from the stables, a riding crop still in her hand.

She leaned against the doorframe, watching the movers carry out my boxes of vials and beakers, her eyes filled with scorn.

"Good. You moving out will stop the house from smelling like a swamp."

She paused, tapping one of my boxes of raw materials with the tip of her crop.

"Audrey, do you know the difference between you and me?"

She didn't wait for an answer.

"What I create is value that can double the market cap of the Hayes Corporation. And what you create," she let out a short, sharp laugh, "is a pile of worthless, fleeting smells."

"Try to be understanding of the family's decision. We can't afford to support a freeloader."

5

I froze, my hands clenching into fists.

I'm supposed to be understanding of the family.

But who was ever going to be understanding of me?

I didn't voice the question. I knew no one in this house wanted to hear it, and no one would listen.

The home I had lived in for twenty years had officially erased my name.

I moved into the villa, surrounded by my plants and essences.

I thought my life would finally be peaceful.

Until the invitation to Sloane and Harrison's engagement party arrived.

It was exquisite, the names "Sloane Hayes & Harrison Pierce" embossed in gold.

My name wasn't on it.

I was just a guest.

My mother called to give me specific instructions. "Audrey, that day is your sister's big day. Dress appropriately—not too flashy, but not cheap. Just sit there quietly and don't embarrass your sister."

I understood what she meant.

My very existence was an embarrassment.

The engagement party was held at a seven-star hotel owned by the Hayes Corporation, taking over the entire rooftop garden.

I didn't own a suitable gown. Sloane had a walk-in closet full of them, but I couldn't bring myself to ask.

I used the prize money from my competition to buy a simple, long dress in a shade of lavender.

When I arrived at the party and saw my sister, the familiar feeling of inadequacy washed over me.

She was wearing a custom-made gown by a Lebanese designer, a 'starlight' dress covered in thousands of tiny diamonds that glittered under the lights like a captured galaxy.

Her flawless figure was showcased to perfection, her smile radiating the confidence of a queen.

Beside my sister's brilliance, I had always been nothing more than dust.

But tonight, the feeling of inferiority was so potent it threatened to swallow me whole.

I clutched my small handbag as if it were the last remnant of my dignity.

I found a corner to sit in, trying to make myself invisible.

But Harrison found me anyway.

He navigated the glittering, champagne-fueled crowd and stopped in front of me.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said, and it sounded sincere.

"Thank you," I managed a tight smile. "Congratulations to you and Sloane."

His eyes lingered on me for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but it ended with a soft sigh.

The party reached its peak.

My father and sister took the stage.

"The proudest accomplishment of my life is having a daughter like Sloane! She is my only heir, and the only future leader of the Hayes Corporation!"

The applause was thunderous.

I watched my triumphant father and my radiant sister on the stage.

There was no place for me beside them.

There was no role for me in their blueprint for the future.

I stood in front of the ladies' room mirror, a hollow feeling in my chest, and thought, for a girl who is merely average, is having a sister who is extraordinary a blessing, or a curse?

Then, a wild, electrifying thought sparked in my mind.

If I'm always going to be stuck in the shadows, then I'll make the shadows bloom with their own unforgettable color.

If the only person they can see is my sister, then I'll stand right next to her.

In my own way.

I took a deep breath and walked back out.

6

I returned to the main hall and walked directly toward the head table.

All eyes were on the stage; no one noticed me.

I reached Harrison's seat, leaned down, and whispered in his ear.

"Mr. Pierce, could I have a word? I've prepared an engagement gift that I'd like to give to you and Sloane privately."

Surprise flickered in his eyes, but he nodded politely and followed me to a secluded corner of the terrace.

From my handbag, I took out a simple, small white porcelain bottle, completely unmarked.

"This is the engagement gift I created for you."

I removed the stopper. A strange, indescribable fragrance bloomed in the cool night air.

Harrison knew fragrance. He closed his eyes, concentrating.

"There's rose in here... but not a typical rose. And... tuberose and jasmine?" His brow furrowed slightly. "But their scent is being suppressed by something stronger, colder. What is it?"

I looked at him and said, word by word:

"Datura."

The color drained from Harrison's face.

I let out a soft laugh, a sound that carried twenty years of cold sorrow.

"I call it 'Accomplice'."

"The top notes are Rose de Mai from Grasse, Egyptian jasmine, and Indian tuberose—the three most exquisite, expensive, and beautiful floral scents in the world. They represent my sister, Sloane. She has everything. She is perfect."

"For the heart, I used a heavy dose of white musk and ambergris to create the warm, enveloping texture of skin, like an embrace. This symbolizes you, Mr. Pierce. Your arrival is the final, brilliant coronation of her perfect life."

Harrison's gaze grew deeper. He listened silently, not interrupting.

"But," my voice turned cold, "can you smell it? Beneath all that extreme romance and beauty, there's a hidden current. A cold, toxic scent. That is the base note—black datura."

"It represents everything that is covered up by perfection. All the things that can't be brought into the light. For instance, a life that was never wanted, cries that were always ignored, an existence that was never allowed a name."

I met Harrison's stunned gaze directly.

"This perfume is for you both. When you are basking at the pinnacle of love and success, will you, perhaps, occasionally catch a whiff... of the resentful air from the shadows?"

"Congratulations, Mr. Pierce. You are about to marry the light of the Hayes family. From now on, you will have to learn how to coexist with the shadow that this light casts."

I pressed the small porcelain bottle into his cold hand, turned, and walked toward the exit without a backward glance.

I didn't look at Harrison's expression, nor did I look at my glamorous parents and sister on the stage.

From this day forward, I was no longer the awkward footnote in their perfect family story.

I am Audrey Hayes.

I am the poison in the perfume called 'Accomplice'.

And I am the one and only protagonist of my own life.

The moment I stepped out of the hotel, the night wind catching my hair, I felt a lightness I had never known.

I took out my phone and dialed the number for the international perfumery competition.

"Hello, I'm calling to accept your invitation. I would be honored to serve as a guest judge for the next competition."

Yes, the award notification I had hidden away, the passion they deemed worthless—that was about to become the sharpest weapon in my arsenal.

The story of Audrey Hayes was only just beginning.

7

I blocked every number from my family.

But I forgot to block my mother’s personal assistant.

At three in the morning, the assistant's call came like a death knell. I answered, and my mother's voice, seething with a barely contained hysteria, shot through the phone.

"Audrey! Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea what you've done tonight?"

I held the phone away from my ear, listening calmly to her shrill accusations.

"Your sister's engagement party! The Pierce family's reputation! The Hayes family's reputation! You've ruined it all!"

"How could you... how dare you do something so classless? Giving them that... that unlucky thing, saying those passive-aggressive words! Do you think we've been too good to you? Have you forgotten who you are?"

I said nothing.

My silence seemed to enrage her further.

"You get yourself back here right now! Apologize to the Pierces, and to your sister! Now! Immediately!"

"I'm not coming back," I said softly, my voice devoid of emotion.

"What did you say?" She sounded as if she couldn't believe her ears.

"I said, I'm not coming back," I repeated. "From the day I moved out, I never planned on returning. That house belongs to Sloane, not me."

The line went dead silent.

After a long moment, my mother's voice came back, exhausted and cold. "Audrey, you will regret this."

The call ended.

Immediately, an unknown number rang.

It was my father.

His voice was much calmer than my mother's, but it was a calm laced with ice, a pressure that felt like it could shatter the phone.

"I'm giving you two choices."

"One, you delete all of your ridiculous social media accounts and go abroad for a few years. You are not to interfere in this family's affairs again. When this blows over, I'll arrange a marriage for you. I'll guarantee you a comfortable life."

"Two," he paused, his tone one of absolute authority, "I will take back the villa and the credit cards, and cut off all your financial support. The Hayes family will no longer have a daughter named Audrey. You can go out into the world and see how far your 'hobbies' get you. See if they can even buy you a meal."

It was the final ultimatum.

And it was the same threat I had been hearing for twenty years.

It used to make me tremble and obey.

But this time, I smiled.

"Dad," I said, "the truth is, I've only ever had one choice."

"And that's to become myself."

I hung up and turned off my phone.

The world was finally quiet.

I lay in bed, watching the inky black sky outside my window, my heart pounding in my chest. It was a chaotic mix of fear and the exhilarating thrill of a new beginning.

As dawn approached, I turned my phone back on. A single text message had come through.

It was from Harrison.

"I received the perfume. But I don't think 'Accomplice' is the right name."

I assumed he was calling on Sloane's behalf to condemn me.

My fingers hovered over the screen, unsure how to reply.

A few seconds later, a second message arrived.

"It belongs to you alone. It shouldn't be tied to anyone else."

"It should be called 'Monologue'."

My eyes burned.

Monologue.

Yes. That's what it was. A grand, sorrowful, twenty-year-long monologue that no one had ever bothered to listen to.

And Harrison was the first, and only, person to understand.

First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "255093" to read the entire book.