Chapter 4

• Ryan POV
• The Graham mansion was quiet, but the silence felt heavy, like it was soaked in tension. I felt it in my chest.
• Downstairs, behind the closed double doors, Carl and I weren’t just talking anymore. It had started out low, almost polite. But that didn’t last. Our voices were raised now. Two men. Sharp tones. His voice was colder than mine… but only just.
• Carl paced the room. His jaw was tight, eyes flickering with something close to rage. Or maybe frustration. It was hard to tell the difference with him.
• “I was the one they wanted, Ryan. Me. I should’ve been at that altar.”
• I sat on the armrest of one of the leather chairs. Arms folded. Legs crossed. I looked calm. Detached. But that was just the surface. Underneath, something else was building. I could feel it coming.
• “You didn’t want Johanna,” I said, keeping my voice even. “You made that clear.”
• Carl scoffed, shaking his head like I was missing the point. “ Yeah, I didn’t. But they didn’t send Johanna, did they?”
• I didn’t say anything. My face didn’t move. But inside, I felt something shift.
• “They sent someone else,” he went on. “Someone I hadn’t met. That girl… Lucia… she’s not what I expected.”
• I felt my brows pull, just slightly. Still, I stayed quiet.
• But Carl caught it. Of course he did. He never missed a crack in the armor.
• “You’re quiet all of a sudden. Why? Starting to get attached?”
• I stood slowly. My voice was steady, cold. “I agreed to marry whoever they sent. You’re the one who backed out.”
• Carl stepped in closer. “You think you’re doing me a favor?” he said, his voice sharp. “You really think I wouldn’t take her now if I could? You think you’d stand a chance if I decided I wanted her back?”
• Something in me broke. Snapped. Even if just for a second. I stepped forward too.
• “You had your chance.”
• Carl sneered. “Or maybe you just don’t want to lose to me again.”
• My jaw tightened. I didn’t reply.
• “You’ve always done what the old man asked,” he said. “Always taken what’s left. Why not this too? Why suddenly now do you care who she marries?”
• The silence grew thick. Dense.
• Carl tilted his head, eyes narrow. “Is there something personal in this? Something you’re not saying?”
• I didn’t answer.
• “You don’t even know her,” he went on, shaking his head. “So what is it, huh?”
• LUCIA POV
• They didn ’t hear me.
• Not yet.
• I was in the hallway, just outside the door. They didn't know I was there. I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. I just came down for something simple... maybe water, maybe to ask where the kitchen was.
• But then I heard him. His voice. And then someone else’s. And I stayed.
• I listened.
• “I’m not giving her up, Carl,” Ryan said finally, his voice low.
• The man called Carl laughed. A dry, humorless sound. “Right. So now you’ve decided to play husband. Let’s see how long that lasts.”
• He walked out past Ryan, knocking past his shoulder on the way out.
• “But don’t forget… this wasn’t your wedding. You were just the replacement.”
• My heart skipped a beat upon hearing that. My fingers tightened on the edge of the wall.
• Then the front doors slammed shut behind Carl.
• I tried to keep silent, to let the moment hang in the air, but in my shock, I stepped back onto a trashcan I hadn’t seen. A faint noise.
• Ryan turned toward the hallway, his eyes narrowed.
• I held my breath as if it would betray me.
• He moved forward, but I was gone before I could see me.
• I ducked around the corner fast, my breath catching. I found a door slightly open and slipped inside, pulling it shut behind me as quietly as possible.
• Then, I pressed myself to the wooden wall inside the room, not making a sound. My heart was pounding.
• Did he know I was there?
• Not yet.
• After a few seconds, the front door opened again and shut. He had left.
• Only then did I let out a breath.
• I looked around. The room was warm. Neat. Shelves full of books. Soft lighting. The air smelled faintly of cedar wood and old paper. A proper study.
• Not like the messy little office my father had kept. This one belonged in a magazine. Spotless shelves, and a thick, soft rug beneath my feet.
• A crystal decanter and glasses sat untouched on a side table.
• I leaned against the wall, hands still shaking.
• Ryan… was also a substitute?
• The thought spun in my mind, turning everything I thought I knew inside out. The kiss. The coldness. The contract. The wheelchair.
• Was it all an act?
• And if it was, why was he so protective about the marriage?
• None of it made sense to me.
• Then I saw the desk. And the folder. Black, with gold-lined edges. Placed perfectly, like someone wanted it to be noticed. It was too beautiful. Too deliberate.
• I stared at it.
• I knew I shouldn’t touch it.
• But curiosity always wins.
• I stepped forward, hands trembling, and picked it up. The cover was smooth, soft to the touch. I opened it.
• Legal documents. Complicated. Full of things I didn’t understand. Names. Figures . A letterhead I didn’t recognize... some medical or institutional emblem.
• Then I saw it.
• A date.
• I blinked. My heart stopped.
• That date.
• It was the same day my mother died.
• I stepped back. Tried to tell myself it was nothing. Coincidence. It had to be. My mother didn’t own that day.
• But then my eyes moved to the next page.
• An address.
• I stared at it.
• No.
• No, it couldn’t be.
• I read it again.
• My knees gave slightly.
• It was the same street. The exact place my mother’s accident had happened.
• The folder fell from my hands, pages scattered.
• “No,” I whispered, dropping to the floor. My hands covered my mouth, then reached down to grab the sheets. But my fingers were clumsy now. My eyes blurred with tears.
• I reached for the last page... That was when Ryan entered.
• The door swung open.
• “What are you doing here?”
• I froze.
• He stood in the doorway, one hand on the knob, his eyes locked on me.
• His voice wasn’t loud. But it was sharp. Cold. Demanding.
• My hands hovered above the scattered papers.
• I looked up at him.
• And he saw it written all over my face.
• I had heard everything.