Zachary closed the file. Tomorrow would come with answers.
And possibly, consequences.
…
It had been three days since the marriage certificate was signed.
Three days of silence.
Three days of an empty villa.
Three days since she'd legally become Mrs. Vale—without ever seeing the man.
The house had been so boring. The servants were nowhere to be seen; their only appearance was whether they wanted to clean, call her for breakfast or dinner, and that's all.
Even Zachary, who had handed all this to her, vanished into thin air. Celestelle was starting to go crazy as she couldn't do anything and her hands were tied.
Her daily routine for the past three days had been to sleep, wake up, eat, and that was all.
She couldn't even go outside yet because her supposed husband wasn't around and hadn't given her his preference.
Celestelle sipped from a warm porcelain cup, her fingers tracing the rim as she sat at the long dining table alone. The silence of Shawn Vila had started to press more into her bones. It was starting to feel like she had married a ghost.
He hadn't shown up. Not once.
No message. No visit. Nothing.
Today she was determined to see if he had always come back but dodged her. This was past ten; by midnight, it would be four days since she got married to this ghost of a man.
In her past life, she had never been one to relax, and it was still deep in her bones. Doing this, listening, and patience suddenly with the tension wasn't her thing.
Celestelle just wanted to make a request—that was the reason why she had been trying to get him—but it seemed futile. Even the servants wouldn't respond; if they did, it would just be a single response like "no idea." She really wished to burn down the house; the suspense was killing her. She had never been treated this way, as she was feared and treated with urgency. But now the role had changed.
She leaned back in the velvet-lined chair, her long hair loose and untamed. It fell in dark waves over her shoulders, a little messy , yet there was something stunning about the disarray. Her skin glowed under the chandelier light—smooth, moonlit, with a cold elegance that didn't belong to this world. Even in simplicity, she looked like she didn't quite belong here. Too composed. Too vivid.
She wasn't trying to be beautiful. She simply was.
Somewhere else—at a sleek bar, a private room nestled on the rooftop of the Onyx Tower—Lucien Draven Vale sat with a glass of dark liquor in hand. The city sparkled beneath him like a kingdom he had already conquered.
Around him, murmurs and glasses clinked. A gathering of men like him—cold, brilliant, rich. They talked about business, politics, empires built and destroyed. He listened without subjecting or an omission; his mind was elsewhere. Far away from the bar, but at the woman he had married three days ago and had never seen. Neither had she, and there wasn't any complaint or fuss from her.
Wasn't she afraid? Wasn't she scared it might be some kidnappers who had married her and caged her for use? Where was her guts coming from? he thought.
Each day that passed, Lucien was left intrigued and amused. Then he suddenly had the urge to head back to the Villa, to see who exactly he had married that could leave him this amused.
He had been staying at the penthouse not really far away from the office, as he had a serious project at hand that required different conference meetings. The project between Vale Empire and Sudaan Corp had been successful, and they had come to the bar tonight to celebrate as usual.
Lucien wasn't the type known for gatherings unless needed, and now he wanted to go back as the exhaustion and weight of the past three days finally settled on him.
All he needed now was a good night's rest.
Until someone asked, "Heard you got married."
Lucien's eyes didn't flinch; rather, he looked at the speaker with amusement.
"I didn't know y'all were so concerned about my private and marital affairs. If I had known, I would have made sure to invite you," Lucien said sarcastically with a lazy smile, which wasn't quite it.
Just those remarks immediately sent tension in the room. All eyes then turned to the supposed speaker, who was already embarrassed.
Their eyes carried malice, pity, and some had a hint of distaste.
Had he forgotten so quickly this was Mr. Vale? Even if everyone in the room was older than he was, the level he was and how far he had reached couldn't compare to them. This wasn't respect about age but about achievement.
He had gathered with them today, which was a very hard thing to do, and someone had brought matters about his private life.
When dealing with business, never bring private matters into business. Because Lucien believed business was business, and private affairs had their own time. Any form of distraction was a complete no for him.
It would be a miracle if the speaker wasn't blacklisted before dawn the next day.
The room was too quiet. No one dared speak, and Lucien was enjoying the atmosphere. Not until the speaker, who was a man in his late forties with full beards and a round stomach full of alcohol, knelt down with a loud thud.
Lucien didn't blink or look his way. His eyes were fixed on his glass, swirling the drink in it casually like everything happening around him was nothing. He was the only one relaxed, and every other person was sitting on a hot seat.
"Mr. Vale, I'm sorry. That was a slip of my tongue. I'm really sorry. I promise this would never happen again. Have mercy on this foolish old man."
With that, the man slapped himself hard while still on his knees. Lucien didn't bother looking his way or putting a stop.
Ten minutes after the continuous slapping and cries, Lucien finally lifted his head and stared at the man lazily. His face was now red, and his eyes held tears. He looked like a complete mess.