Chapter 5 Celia : Borrowed Things

“What the hell is going on here?”

Sienna’s voice sliced through the foyer sharply enough to make the housekeeper flinch.

I turned fully toward the staircase.

She stood three steps from the top, one manicured hand gripping the banister so tightly her knuckles had gone pale beneath her perfect makeup. Her eyes stayed fixed on the emerald brooch in my palm like she wanted to rip it away from me.

Behind me, Adrian loosened his tie slightly, exhaustion still shadowing his face from the hospital, but even he seemed to straighten at Sienna’s tone.

The foyer suddenly felt colder.

The housekeeper cleared her throat nervously. “Mrs. Eleanor wished for Mrs. Lancaster to have it.”

Sienna laughed softly.

Not because anything was funny.

Because she was angry.

“Oh?” she said lightly. “That’s interesting.”

Vivian stepped farther into the foyer, elegant heels clicking against marble. Her gaze lingered on the brooch again before settling on Sienna.

“It’s late,” she said crisply. “There’s no need to create noise.”

“But grandmother never gives away family pieces,” Sienna replied, smiling too brightly. “Especially not that one.”

Something about the way she said that one made my stomach tighten.

I looked down at the brooch again.

It was beautiful.

Old emerald stones curled into delicate silver leaves, each tiny detail handcrafted so carefully it almost looked alive beneath the foyer lights.

Too beautiful for someone like me.

“I really can return it tomorrow,” I murmured.

Adrian’s gaze shifted toward me immediately.

For some reason, that only made me more aware of how tightly I was holding the velvet box.

The housekeeper shook her head quickly. “Mrs. Eleanor was very specific.”

Sienna descended the rest of the staircase slowly.

Gracefully.

Like a woman walking toward a stage.

“That’s strange,” she mused. “Grandmother used to say that the brooch would go to someone truly important to the Lancaster family someday.”

Her eyes lifted to mine.

The meaning beneath the words was impossible to miss.

Not you.

Before I could answer, Vivian spoke in a cool tone.

“Mother is emotional after the hospital scare. We shouldn’t attach unnecessary meaning to temporary decisions.”

Temporary.

I knew exactly what she meant.

Temporary wife.

Temporary presence.

Temporary stain on their perfect family.

The humiliation settled hot beneath my skin, but I forced myself to keep my expression calm.

“I understand,” I said softly. “I’ll thank her properly tomorrow.”

Sienna’s eyes narrowed slightly.

She had expected me to react.

To look hurt.

To argue.

Instead, I carefully closed the velvet box.

That seemed to irritate her even more.

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, “I suppose some people really do get lucky stealing things.”

Silence dropped instantly.

Adrian’s expression hardened.

“Sienna.”

His voice was low.

Warning.

She blinked innocently. “What? I didn’t mean the brooch.”

Liar.

The word practically echoed in my head.

But Sienna already smiled sweetly again before turning toward Vivian.

“I only stopped by to check on grandmother. Since she’s resting, I’ll leave.”

She walked past me slowly.

As she passed, she leaned close enough for only me to hear.

“Careful, Celia.”

Her perfume wrapped around me sickly sweet.

“Borrowed things always get taken back.”

Then she walked away.

The front doors closed behind her moments later.

The foyer stayed quiet.

Too quiet.

Vivian exhaled sharply before looking at me again. “Do not misunderstand my mother-in-law’s kindness.”

I lowered my eyes automatically.

“She’s grateful you helped tonight,” Vivian continued. “That is all.”

I nodded once. “Of course.”

Her gaze dropped to the velvet box in my hands again.

“Sentiment does not make you family.”

The words landed gently.

Which somehow hurt worse.

Then she turned and walked upstairs without waiting for a response.

Leaving only Adrian and me standing there.

I became painfully aware of the jacket still around my shoulders.

His jacket.

I quickly slipped it off and held it toward him. “Thank you for earlier.”

His eyes flicked toward the coat but he didn’t take it immediately.

Instead, his gaze drifted toward the brooch box still clutched in my other hand.

“You should keep it,” he said finally.

I blinked.

“What?”

“The brooch.” His expression remained unreadable. “If grandmother gave it to you, refusing it will only upset her.”

“Oh.”

Brilliant response, Celia.

His gaze lingered on me for another second before he finally took the jacket from my hands.

The warmth disappeared instantly.

“You should sleep,” he murmured.

Then he walked away too.

I stood alone in the foyer long after the sound of his footsteps disappeared upstairs.

My fingers slowly tightened around the velvet box.

Borrowed things always get taken back.

By morning, the house felt strange again.

Different.

Subtle enough that maybe nobody else would notice.

But I did.

When I entered the dining room, there was an actual breakfast waiting at my seat again.

Not dry toast.

Warm tea.

Fresh fruit.

Eggs.

Even butter.

I paused slightly before sitting down.

Vivian noticed immediately.

Of course she did.

Her eyes moved toward Adrian across the table.

He was reading through financial reports while sipping coffee, as none of this concerned him.

Eleanor sat beside the window wrapped in pale blue silk, looking much healthier than yesterday despite the tiredness beneath her eyes.

The moment she saw me, she smiled softly.

“There’s my girl with the gentle hands.”

Heat rose faintly into my face.

Vivian’s cup clicked against its saucer.

I sat quietly.

Breakfast continued in tense silence until Eleanor suddenly looked toward me again.

“Why aren’t you wearing the brooch?”

I nearly choked on my tea.

Across the table, Vivian visibly stiffened.

“I…” I hesitated carefully. “It felt too valuable for breakfast.”

“Nonsense.” Eleanor waved one delicate hand dismissively. “Beautiful things should be worn.”

Sienna’s voice from last night echoed unpleasantly in my head.

Borrowed things.

Adrian finally looked up from his papers then.

His eyes rested on me properly for the first time all morning.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

Yet my pulse still stumbled stupidly anyway.

“She’s right,” he said calmly.

I looked at him, startled.

His expression remained neutral.

“Grandmother never gives away jewelry lightly.”

Something tightened painfully in my chest.

I couldn’t tell if it was an accusation or approval.

With Adrian, everything sounded cold enough to become either.

Vivian set her fork down carefully.

“Speaking of appearances,” she said smoothly, “tomorrow’s charity tea is still happening.”

My stomach immediately tightened.

“I expect proper behavior from everyone attending.”

Everyone.

Meaning me too.

Eleanor sighed softly. “Vivian, stop speaking like the girl is preparing for war.”

“In this city,” Vivian replied coolly, “high society can be worse.”

I lowered my eyes toward my tea.

The truth was, I already knew how tomorrow would go.

People loved beautiful scandals.

And what was more beautiful than the story of a jealous older sister stealing a billionaire husband?

The newspapers had already turned me into a villain.

Tomorrow, Greyford’s elite women would simply stare at the monster in person.

The thought alone made nausea twist inside me.

Breakfast ended shortly afterward.

Adrian rose first.

As usual.

He gathered his documents while Vivian continued speaking to Eleanor about some upcoming board dinner.

I reached for my cup carefully, hoping to leave unnoticed.

Then Adrian paused beside my chair.

“The blue suits you.”

I looked up in confusion.

His gaze flicked briefly toward my dress.

Then toward my eyes.

“It’s less… severe than the others.”

Before I could even process that he had just complimented me, he walked away.

Just like that.

Leaving silence behind him.

Eleanor smiled knowingly into her tea.

Vivian looked irritated.

And I sat frozen in my chair feeling something dangerous begin unfolding quietly beneath my ribs.

Hope.

Which was ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

Because men like Adrian Lancaster did not suddenly become kind.

Especially not to women they despised.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly.

I spent most of it in Eleanor’s sunroom helping reorganize jewelry cases while she told stories about old Greyford families and ridiculous scandals from decades ago.

For the first time since arriving here, I almost forgot myself enough to laugh once or twice.

Which was probably why the interruption felt even crueler.

A maid entered nervously around four o’clock.

“Mrs. Lancaster?”

I looked up immediately.

“There are guests downstairs asking for you.”

My stomach dropped instantly.

Guests?

I exchanged a glance with Eleanor before standing.

The moment I reached the main sitting room, regret hit me.

Three women sat together near the fireplace sipping tea.

Greyford society women.

Perfectly dressed.

Perfectly styled.

Perfectly vicious.

Vivian stood with them.

And the second I entered, every conversation stopped.

One woman smiled thinly.

“So this is her.”

Another lifted her brows while openly examining me from head to toe.

How embarrassing.

Like I was livestock being inspected.

Vivian’s expression remained composed.

“Celia,” she said smoothly. “These are members of tomorrow’s charity committee.”

I forced myself to smile politely.

“Good afternoon.”

The blonde woman nearest the sofa tilted her head.

“You’re prettier than the papers described.”

The others laughed softly.

Heat crept into my face.

“Ignore Diane,” another woman said sweetly. “We were simply curious.”

Curious.

About the woman who trapped a billionaire into marriage.

About the sister who stole another sister’s wedding.

About the scandal.

I could practically hear the thoughts behind their smiles.

One woman leaned forward slightly.

“So tell us,” she asked delicately, “was it romantic?”

Vivian’s expression sharpened faintly.

But nobody stopped her.

I understood then.

This was deliberate.

A test.

Humiliation disguised as polite conversation.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides.

The room waited.

Watching.

Judging.

Then suddenly another voice spoke from the doorway.

“No.”

Every head turned instantly.

Adrian stood there.

Still in his work suit.

Cold-eyed.

Beautiful.

And suddenly terrifying.

The women straightened immediately.

The blonde laughed awkwardly. “Mr. Lancaster, we were only joking.”

“I know,” Adrian replied calmly.

Which somehow sounded worse.

His gaze slid toward me briefly.

Then back to them.

“But my wife doesn’t enjoy being interrogated for entertainment.”

The room went completely silent.

My wife.

The words hit me so hard I forgot how to breathe for a second.

Even Vivian looked surprised.

Adrian walked slowly farther into the room.

“If you came for tea, drink tea,” he said evenly. “If you came for gossip, I suggest tabloids. They’re cheaper.”

Nobody laughed this time.

One by one, the women suddenly became very interested in finishing their tea quickly.

And I stood there frozen beside the doorway, staring at Adrian as I had never seen him before.

Because maybe I hadn’t.