Ch-26

•~•Aziel POV

To my relief, Irene hadn’t discovered the bug on her phone or removed it—it was just a glitch. A damn technical issue at the worst possible time.

At least it wasn’t something I couldn’t fix.

A few taps on my phone, and it was done.

I exhaled, setting the device on the bedside drawer before leaning back against the headboard.

The sound of the closet door opening pulled my gaze up.

Irene stepped out, draped in a red silk nightgown that clung to her curves like a second skin.

The thin fabric barely concealed her nipples, hard and pressing against the silk.

A deep, aching heat coiled low in my gut, my cock already hardening.

I shifted, dragging a hand over my lap before it became too obvious, forcing my expression into something neutral.

"Uh… Solane, about last night. We should talk. I didn’t—"

“I have something to say first,” she cut in.

My brows furrowed as I studied her, trying to read whatever emotion was hidden behind her words. But her face gave nothing away.

Her gaze flickered to the floor, hesitation threading through her movements. Then, with a slow breath, she spoke.

"I haven't been completely honest with you."

I arched a brow. "What do you mean?"

She exhaled, her fingers grazing the hem of her nightgown before curling around it.

"I married you because of my cousin… What I mean is, I know about your relationship with her. She’s the girl…the Irene you said you were in love with."

I stilled. A tightness coiled in my chest at the shift in her tone. So this was her new game—push a different narrative and subtly confront me about the past.

Well, if she wanted to play, I’d play along.

"Solane, I can explain—"

"No, just let me finish," she cut me off again. "I need to say this… to get it off my chest."

Her voice held an urgency that made me pause.

"Irene and I used to be very close. Even though we were just cousins, we were more like sisters," she continued, her voice steady, each word rolling off her tongue with an ease that almost amazed me.

The way she spun this lie—so fluid, so convincing—she was almost as good as my mother. Maybe even better.

"We went to different universities back then, but whenever we met, she always talked about this guy. How perfect he was. How they were in love. Then, suddenly, she stopped mentioning him and I never thought much of it."

A shadow passed over her face, and she inhaled deeply.

"Until the night she left the house in a hurry… I thought she was going to meet that perfect guy of hers.”

“...So imagine my shock when morning came, and the police were at our doorstep—telling us Irene had jumped off a cliff in an attempt to take her own life. That she was barely alive in the hospital."

Silence stretched between us.

My fingers curled against the sheets. I waited, knowing there was more.

"Just like my uncle never believed the police when they said she jumped of her own accord, I didn’t believe it either," She muttered, her jaw tightening. "Not until I found her diary."

"It was an even greater shock for me to find out she was pregnant, Nathaniel," she said, watching me closely.

"And to read about you telling her to get an abortion. She also wrote about how she found out you were engaged to Shoshana Bates.”

I exhaled slowly, keeping my expression unreadable as she continued.

"She was distraught, wondering if you ever really loved her—if you asked her to get an abortion because you thought she was just some poor girl, unworthy of having your child…”

“...She debated telling you the truth—that she wasn’t just some girl with the last name Lancaster, that it wasn’t a mere coincidence like she let you believe. She was the heiress… the only daughter of Zane and Celeste Lancaster.”

“...But she didn’t. She thought that if you truly loved her, her family background wouldn’t have mattered. You would have chosen her and your child…no matter what.”

"I guess she couldn't bear it anymore," Irene whispered. "Maybe she was too ashamed to even confide in me… and took the coward’s way out."

I held her gaze, my body unnervingly still. “Don’t say that. It was my fault. I should have fought for her,” I said, sticking to the script she was playing. “I should have never let my mother’s plans for me come between us.”

Irene shook her head, coming over to the bed. Her voice softened as she said, “No, it wasn’t your fault… You made your choice. You didn’t know she’d take such a drastic decision.”

I scoffed, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “If it wasn’t my fault, then why did you have your uncle invite me and my mother to her remembrance?” My gaze pinned her in place.

“You said she was the reason you married me… Let me guess, for revenge, right?” My voice was cold, laced with just enough edge to back her into a corner, to force her to react.

Her eyes flickered with something, surprise, hesitation—but she recovered quickly, blinking it away as she spoke. 

“I didn’t marry you for revenge, Nathaniel… And yes, my cousin was the reason I did, but only because I wanted the answers she never got—to know if you ever truly loved her.”

“And believe it or not, I like you, Nathaniel. It was like love at first sight when I saw that picture of you in her diary. I liked you even before I met you. I like you so much… it feels wrong, especially knowing your history with her, but I can’t help it.”

“That’s the real reason I married you.”

Nice play.

But I wasn’t about to go easy on her. If I wanted her to believe I was falling for this little act, I needed to play my part just as well—feign vulnerability, stir just the right emotions, maybe even let my gaze linger on her a second too long.

“I see...But you still haven’t answered my question… Why did you have your uncle invite me and my mother to her remembrance, or wasn’t that your doing?”

She nodded. “It was… I just thought you might want some closure. To finally know who she really was.”

"And for your mother… Back on the plane, you said she already had your life mapped out, so I wanted her to know that Irene was from a far more reputable family than Shoshana Bates…”

“...I also wanted to see if she had any regrets for making you choose Shoshana over Irene and your child. And I got my answer… the way she spoke at dinner, I know she regrets it."

I studied her for a moment, still impressed with how carefully she had crafted this whole mountain of lies.

"Why didn’t you tell your uncle and aunt about this? That my mother and I are the reason she jumped off a cliff?"

"Because it would only reopen the wounds they've been trying to heal for the past five years. Besides, it wasn’t really your fault or your mother’s," she said simply.

"You were young and made the decision you thought was best. And as for your mother... like every reputable wealthy family, she was just trying to expand and build her family’s name higher."

I exhaled. "I'm sorry."

And I meant it—not for the act I was playing right now, but for what she had gone through that made her change this much, that pushed her to weave these intricate lies just to get her revenge.

She shook her head. "Don't apologize."

Then, after a brief hesitation, she asked, "Can I ask you something?"

I nodded.

"How did you find out my cousin died?"

I went still.

The question was deliberate.

I had told her that the girl I loved, Irene, had died. But since the Lancasters had kept her identity hidden from the media—that she was their daughter—and her supposed death had never been made public, there was no way I should have known about it.

So, she was right to question how I knew. But I couldn’t possibly tell her that I had watched the video of my mother pushing her off that cliff.

Geez… Now, it was my turn to be backed into a corner.

While I appeared calm on the outside, my mind raced for an answer—something solid and believable.

"I did some digging after she suddenly disappeared from school. The authorities told me she had died, but they never gave details, no matter how much I pressed. Just that her family had reported it."

I watched her closely, hoping she’d buy it. Her parents had faked her death, so they must have made sure that those who knew her—those with her records—were informed of her death to make it more believable.

Irene studied me, her eyes narrowing slightly, and I held my breath. Then, to my relief, her gaze softened, and she nodded.

"Can I ask another question?"

I braced myself, hoping it wouldn’t be as difficult to answer as the last. "Go ahead."

"I know you still love her," she said, but I didn't respond.

Irene leaned in slightly, her eyes searching mine as if looking for cracks in my facade.

"How about you think of me as her substitute?"

A frown pulled at my brows at her unexpected words. "Solane—"

She cut me off. "I don’t mind."

Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "I see it in your eyes. You might never get over her…”

“...And if that’s the case, then for the sake of this marriage, I don’t mind being her substitute." Her tone wavered slightly before she continued, "I can even get rid of the scar. I’ll get a skin graft or something…”

“So it doesn’t remind you that I’m not her, Nathaniel. I can do anything."

I caught her wrists, my grip firm but gentle. "Solane."

Her breath hitched.

I held her gaze.

"You’re enough."

A flicker of desperation crossed her eyes. "But not enough for you to forget her," she whispered. "Not enough for you to see me as myself instead of just a reflection of her."

I exhaled sharply, my grip on her wrist tightening slightly.

"That’s why I’m asking you," she muttered, her voice almost pleading. "For the sake of both of us… just see me as her."

A heavy silence settled between us, thick with something unspoken.

Then, slowly, she leaned in and our lips met in a slow, lingering kiss.