Chapter 31: Surprise

Ethan watched with a tightening jaw, fingers digging into the armrests until his knuckles whitened, a vein pulsing at his temple as every muscle in his body coiled with tension. Discomfort turned to agitation when Andy strode over to Alicia and Alexander; Ethan nearly lurched to his feet the moment Alicia leaned in and pecked Andy on the cheek.

Emily, who had been trying to ignore him, finally snapped. She pinched his arm hard and shot him a glacial glare. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Ethan grimaced but forced a brittle smile to mask the storm beneath. His bloodshot eyes betrayed him. “Emily, believe me—she’s Alicia. That woman is my wife, not some ‘Catherine’ she’s pretending to be,” he said, voice tight with urgency.

Suspicion darkened Emily’s face. Her lip curled. “I know what you’re plotting, but stop dreaming. She’ll never fall for you. And Andy isn’t someone you mess with. Not even my family could protect us if they came after us. So quit fantasizing about using your body to get what you want.”

Color rose to Ethan’s cheeks. He swallowed his pride, speaking quickly. “That’s not what I mean, I j—”

“I’m done listening,” Emily cut in, already irritated by any mention of his ex-wife. “Your fat, ugly ex could never look like that. Stop daydreaming, and don’t ruin my night.”

Ethan fell silent, but his gaze never left Alicia. He stared and stared, so consumed by her that he didn’t even register the moment Alicia and Andy announced their wedding date, their engagement now public for all to hear—everyone but him.

Alicia knew Ethan was staring at her, but she didn’t once glance in his direction. Andy’s lips curled as he teased, “I’ve got a lot of competitors already—and one of them is downright obsessed and not the least bit diplomatic about it.”

Without looking, Alicia already knew who he meant. She replied lightly, “I can’t imagine waking up next to any face but yours.”

The corner of Andy’s mouth twitched. It felt strange that his wife could be so taken with his looks, but the thought pleased him.

He studied her face and said, “Then don’t get tired of it.”

After a while, the dance floor opened, and guests drifted into the hall to mingle, dance, talk, and drink. It was the perfect chance to widen their social circles.

Emily tugged Ethan along, but his eyes kept tracking Alicia, who had stayed back in the event hall, whispering and giggling with Andy.

Eventually, Andy suggested, “We should head over where everyone is.”

When they stepped into the dance hall, several guests came by to share a drink. Most were young, wealthy scions familiar with Andy.

“Andy, you hid it well—no one knew you were about to marry such a gorgeous wife,” one of them said.

“It’s my good fortune,” Andy replied evenly.

Alicia stood quietly beside him. Another of the young men added, “I’m really jealous, Andy. Even with your condition, you managed to win over such a classy, educated beauty. I’m impressed, and I wis—”

Just then, Beatrice’s voice sounded over the speakers: “Please, everyone, take a seat.”

Alexander, watching from the sidelines, tensed. He knew his wife too well. The moment she took the microphone, he could tell she was up to no good.

He leaned toward the butler and whispered, “Do something about this.”

“I’ll do my best,” the butler replied before slipping away.

Beatrice continued, her smile polished and poised. “Since you’ve all met Catherine, my daughter, I want you to watch my girls thrill you with their art. The Alexanders’ rich history isn’t just for show—art is in our DNA, and we will always keep it alive. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my daughter Catherine to the stage.”

Andy tensed, but when he glanced at Alicia, her face was utterly calm—expressionless, unreadable. His worry melted away.

He watched as she glided toward the podium, having already whispered to a servant to move a piano to the stage. The instrument was in place before she even set foot under the lights.

Ethan watched with quiet intensity. He knew his ex-wife’s love for music; she’d written pieces for him, and the piano had always been her first love.

As Beatrice stepped out of the spotlight, Alexander intercepted her. Standing beside her with a stiff smile, he murmured, “Beatrice, when will you stop plotting mischief? Your nineties? Your late hundreds?”

Beatrice’s smile only brightened. “I’m keeping the Alexander flame alive. Will you blame me for that?”

Alexander’s jaw tightened. He knew it was nonsense. This wasn’t about legacy. She wanted to humiliate Alicia.

“I’m not an idiot, Beatrice. Don’t try to fool me. I know exactly what you’re—”

Alicia’s voice cut cleanly through the room. “I’m going to perform a piece titled ‘You Will Never Have Me Again.’”

The audience’s curiosity sharpened into stillness. Ethan went slack, stunned. He remembered: Alicia had always told him that was her favorite piece—one she played often.

“Alicia…” he breathed, lips trembling.

Beside him, Emily bristled. “You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost. Stop fantasizing. Alicia would never set foot in New York again.”

“Why won’t you believe me?” Ethan rasped, exhausted. “That’s her. Over there—it’s really her. She—”

Alicia’s fingers met the keys, and the hall fell into a reverent hush. Even Ethan did not dare to speak.