Novels by Jasmine Wren Leigh

I cared nothing for how the farce in the dining hall ended. I went upstairs, locked the door behind me, shutting out the crying, the shouting, and the wreckage. Silence fell instantly. I walked to the window, gazing at the heavy night beyond, my heart filled with a peace I had never known before—tinged with the thrill of rebirth. It was over. The nightmare that had once belonged to Sophia Lane—the humiliation, the disguises—was finally over. Not long after, hesitant, heavy footsteps stopped outside my door. He lingered for a long time before finally knocking softly. “Sophia.” Ethan Caldwell’s voice filtered through the door, hoarse, filled with weariness and… almost a plea. “Open the door. Let’s talk, please?” I didn’t respond. I simply stood still.

Ethan Caldwell’s so-called “pursuit” was like a belated and clumsy performance—forced and laughable. He started coming home on time, even bringing back expensive but soulless gifts—jewelry, limited edition handbags—placing them on the coffee table as though checking off a task. He tried to have dinner with me, searched for topics at the table, but his gaze always carried that lingering scrutiny and probing. He wavered between suspicion and a twisted urge to “win me back.” The more he failed to find any connection between me and Stellar Dawn Group, the more restless he became, and the harder it was for him to let go of his “interest” in me. I observed coldly, playing along with his act—sometimes showing just the right touch of aloofness and grievance, sometimes offering a tiny hint of soften

The name Stellar Dawn Group swept through the Caldwell Group like a sudden storm, dragging the entire Caldwell estate into the eye of a suffocating vortex. When Ethan Caldwell returned home, it was already late at night. I hadn’t gone to bed. Instead, I sat on the sofa in the upstairs lounge, a book open under the glow of a floor lamp—or rather, I was waiting for the storm I knew would come. Heavy footsteps echoed from downstairs, weighed down with fury and—faintly—exhaustion. He didn’t come up right away but went to the bar. The sharp sound of ice hitting glass rang out—once, twice, over and over—cutting through the silence like shards of glass.I set my book aside, moved to the stairwell, and looked down.He stood with his back to me, at the bar, his suit j

Ethan Caldwell’s suspicion hung over the Caldwell estate like an invisible mist. The way he looked at me grew increasingly complex, filled with a kind of obsessive scrutiny. He began coming home more frequently, even casually asking about my past—about my life in the Lane family, about what books I had read. I remained the same obedient, timid Sophia Lane, answering flawlessly, carefully concealing every edge. Only on rare occasions—when he brought up highly technical business terms or international affairs—would my eyes betray the faintest glimmer of another soul’s sharpness. I could feel his confusion mounting, along with his frustration. He could uncover nothing. My background as Sophia Lane was clean to the point of emptiness: an overlooked daughter in the Lane family, unremarkable in school, withdrawn in character. This stark contrast to the woman he sensed now formed a riddle he couldn’t let

The aftermath of the banquet was like a stone cast into a still lake, sending invisible ripples through the Caldwell mansion. I remained in my room, yet the air felt different. When Mrs. Zhou delivered meals, her head bowed lower than usual. The faint disrespect that had always tainted her tone was gone, replaced by cautious curiosity. The servants I passed in the hall stopped, greeted me respectfully as “Madam,” and hurried away, their eyes full of confusion—and a touch of fear. I could feel countless eyes, discreetly watching me from the shadows, trying to see what lay beneath the calm exterior of the woman who had revealed such unexpected brilliance that night. Ethan Caldwell no longer ignored me. He began coming home for dinner. The atmosphere at the dining table was suffocating. He sat at the head; I, at the opposite end. He no longer pretended I didn’t exist. Instead, from time to time, his eyes fell on me. That gaze was no longer purely cold or filled with disgust. It was

Determination is a peculiar thing. Once it settles in the heart, it builds a wall of iron, shutting out all weakness, fear, and hesitation.After that day, I remained silent, outwardly obedient. But I was no longer the same Sophia Lane who endured humiliation passively. My obedience had become my disguise—the best cover I could wear. Behind it, my eyes were open, calmly observing the world I was about to fight against.And the opportunity came sooner than I expected.The Caldwells hosted a grand business banquet, gathering nearly every elite in the city. As the nominal Mrs. Caldwell, my presence was required.The day before, Vivian Caldwell had Mrs. Zhou deliver a dress—a dull, conservative gown, clearly chosen so I wouldn’t outshine anyone. I looked at the gown and, instead of meekly accepting as before, I said calmly, “Tell Mother, I already have a dress.”Surprise and disdain flashed across Mrs. Zhou’s eyes, as if she thought I was bluffing. I gave no explanation.On the night of t