Chapter 1
**Royal Inn, Kingston** “Elena, head up to Chamber 1501 and wait there. Hilda had an urgent matter to attend to. Don’t worry, North Goodwin will join you shortly,” a gentle voice instructed. At the entrance of the inn, Ethel smiled warmly at Miriam Fairchild before hurrying away. Elena Swift nodded, pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, and felt the elevator begin its ascent. She was around seventeen, dressed simply in a white and gray outfit, with bright, flowing hair cascading down her shoulders, framing her porcelain-like face. Her delicate features, with gentle eyebrows and sparkling clean eyes, resembled the grace of lilies budding through the morning mist, emitting an aura of soft elegance. “Ding!” The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open. As she stepped out, the lights in the hallway suddenly flickered off, enveloping her in darkness. Is there a power outage? Elena wondered, her heart fluttering. Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed behind her. Before she knew it, she was knocked to the ground, her gasp caught in her throat. “Give me…” a hoarse male voice urged. Struggling to break free, Elena looked up but was swiftly overpowered, her mouth covered as she was dragged into a corner. A sharp pain hit her side, and through her muffled cries, she managed to whisper, “Help…” Meanwhile, at Chamber 1501, a burly man in his fifties named Lord William Kingsley, holding a room card, stumbled into the dimly lit room. “Well, sweet baby, here I am!” he exclaimed lustfully as he turned on the lights, only to find the room empty. “Where is that little servant girl supposed to be?” Exiting the chamber, he barked into his phone, “Liam Goodwin, are you messing with me? Forget any chance of signing that contract! The Quinton Family is in for a disaster!” Just then, as the inn’s door swung open, a sharply dressed man brushed past him, a walkie-talkie in hand. “Officer William, I’ve found North Goodwin! Don't worry, the boys are already on it…” **Five Minutes Later, in the Scribe's Office** “Elena, come into my office!” A low, magnetic voice rang through the intercom. “Okay, Lady Handley,” Elena replied after placing the call down. Wearing her tailored outfit, she approached the Lord’s Hall, tapping lightly before entering. As soon as she walked in, the office buzzed with chatter among the dozen people gathered there. “Why does Lady Handley want to see her again?” “Right? Is she changing her preferences? Tired of fine dining and seeking something simpler?” “Could it be that Lady Handley is exploring new flavors?” “…” “Cough, cough!” Secretary Rowan cleared his throat, silencing the murmurs. In the Lord’s Hall, Coldwin's imposing desk sat at the forefront as Elena Swift—now Sophia Fairchild—stood there, eerily silent. Her hair was arranged in a classic bun, accentuating her youthful, delicate features. She wore stylish glasses that emphasized her refined beauty—an alluring mix of elegance and innocence. Exactly ten minutes later, the door to the royal chamber opened, revealing a figure exuding charisma. Harrison Bright was the finest example of nobility, renowned in Kingston as Lady Handley’s right-hand man and a golden child born with a gilded spoon. He was not only her hidden husband but also a well-respected member of the upper echelons of society. It was easy to see why he would marry her: she was uncomplicated and innocent, a perfect match to navigate the complex world they belonged to. Harrison was certainly handsome, with strong features complemented by thick eyebrows, deep-set green eyes that shone like jewels, a prominent nose, and inviting lips—traits that captivated all. With a casual approach, he’d left the top button of his crisp white shirt unfastened. As his gaze rested on Sophia, a storm of conflicting emotions brewed.
Chapter 2
Sophia Fairchild adjusted her gaze, taking in the rather disheveled sight of Harrison Bright, his shirt buttons askew and his jacket hanging loosely off his shoulders. They revealed a glimpse of his toned chest and sculpted abs, giving off the vibe of a model straight out of a fashion magazine. With an amused frown, she reached out, fastening the buttons of his shirt from the bottom up, her fingers deftly maneuvering as she grabbed the tie lying on the nearby table and quickly tied it in place. "There we go!" Sophia clapped her hands together, admiring her handiwork as she leaned back with satisfaction. "Hey, wife, are you trying to strangle me with this tie?" Harrison bantered, his sturdy form bending slightly as he looked at her. His handsome features crinkled in mock concern, his tone teasing. Sophia shot him an exasperated glance, ready to turn on her heel and leave when his warm hand caught her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. "Why are your hands so cold? Want me to give you a break?" he asked, rubbing her small, icy hands between his larger ones, one eyebrow raised in playful challenge. "I still have plenty of work to do, Harrison," she replied, maintaining her composure despite the warmth of his touch. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to the office now." With a determined tug, she withdrew her hand and began to walk away. "…" Harrison was left momentarily speechless. Even if he found her frustration amusing, he quickly picked up his phone, issuing a quick command. "Set the air conditioning two degrees higher," he instructed. Thirty minutes later, after finishing up the tedious Excel documents, Sophia leaned back in her chair, stretching her sore back and reveling in a moment of peace. The door to the Goodwin Hall swung open, and Harrison emerged, his tall frame eclipsing the doorway momentarily. He passed her desk before retreating, lowering his voice as he spoke, "Little Elena, I’m heading out for drinks with Brother Robert. Adeline has already gone home to sleep." Not bothering to look up, Sophia nodded her acknowledgment, a subtle sign that she heard him. "Secretary Rowan," he suddenly announced, "If you're not too busy this afternoon, feel free to join us later." "…Sure, thanks, Harrison." Secretary Rowan stood up, her face lighting up with surprise and gratitude. Harrison offered a slight nod before he exited the office, his presence fading as the door swung shut behind him. Sending the finalized report to Secretary Rowan and confirming all the details, Sophia picked up her designer handbag—a gift from Harrison—and slipped out of the Goodwin Hall. However, instead of returning home, she hailed a cab and made her way to Green Meadows, opening the door to Chamber 1501. "Mommy!" Benjamin Fairchild, her four-year-old son, was engrossed in a colorful game on the carpet. Upon hearing the door, his head whipped around, and a broad smile split his face. "Little White, Mommy’s here to spend the night with you! Let’s get excited!" Sophia exclaimed with delight, kicking off her heels and slipping into cozy slippers. She rushed to wrap her arms around his soft, little body, placing numerous kisses on his fair cheeks. “Hey, don’t kiss me so much!” Little White squealed between giggles as his fingers deftly moved the game’s joystick, almost losing his character due to the distraction. Sophia raised an eyebrow, feigning a pitiful pout as she plopped down beside him. "But, dear Little White, I came all this way just to keep you company. Yet you only care about your video game! Have you forgotten how to love your mommy?" With a sigh, Benjamin rolled his eyes at her playful antics. He paused his game and turned, hugging her tightly, “Mommy, don’t cry! Little White loves you the most!” Sophia beamed with joy at his words, scooping him up and spinning around in circles until they both were breathless from laughter. “Little White, why didn’t you go to Toddler House today?” she suddenly asked, glancing at the time and noting it was barely past three in the afternoon—an unusual time for him to be home. "Mommy, today is Friday. Toddler House closes early on Fridays," he replied, raising an eyebrow as if she should have known. Sophia smacked her forehead, realization dawning. "Oh right, it’s Friday! With all my deadlines, I forgot what day it was!" Though a pang of embarrassment hit her, she looked at her fabulous child—so bright and amazing for his young age. Yet it silently stung; at twenty-two, she sometimes felt overshadowed by her brilliant son, constantly reminding her how quickly he was growing up. But what could she do? Since birth, he had been a genius! He spoke at one, recited nursery rhymes by two, developed an interest in the universe by three, and now at four, was engrossed in video games, tinkering with gadgets, and exploring new apps. Sophia flipped through the various applications he had downloaded, her phone filled with parental controls, always ensuring she could check on him from wherever she was. As she caressed his chin, she took a moment to admire his delicate features, feeling a wave of pride for the boy he'd become.
Chapter 3
Little White was an angelic sight with her delicate, fair skin and beautiful Gawain-like eyes, a reflection of the ocean's depths. She possessed lovely lashes that framed her innocent gaze, a petite nose that added to her adorableness, but her slightly pursed lips hinted at a stubbornness and maturity beyond her tender age—a young girl who bore the charm of a mixed heritage. “Mom?” Little White asked, munching on a piece of jellied apple from the table, “Is Dad Cedric away on business again?” Sophia Fairchild's eyes twinkled with emotion. It had been five years since Adeline passed away. The unusual relationship she had with that strange man, Margaret's father, had resulted in the birth of this beautiful child. Worrying about their son growing up in a single-parent home, she had concocted a little lie. She showed him a picture of Harrison Bright, claiming he was “Dad Cedric.” She told him that Cedric was busy working hard to provide for them and that he had no time to visit them. Fortunately, Little White was like every other child, sometimes asking after her father, and Ambrose would nod knowingly. He seemed so composed, acting like a four-year-old little man. “Um, your dad Cedric is out having drinks with Goodwin again. How about I tuck you in and read you a story instead?” Sophia said, half-joking, while gazing lovingly at her cute and stylish son. A warmth filled her heart as she leaned down to give him a kiss. Ambrose wiped his mouth with a fussy gesture, a look of exaggerated disdain on his face. “Mom, I’m already four! You can't keep treating me like a little kid!” Sophia chuckled at her sweet boy. She stole one last kiss on his adorable cheek before standing up. “What do you want to eat, Little White? I’ll make it for you.” Sophia asked as she took off her glasses, heading into the Kitchen of Plenty. Little White huffed in response, “Just let Young Gideon take care of it, Mom. He does it well enough.” Young Gideon was a cook hired by Sophia Fairchild, coming every weekday afternoon to prepare meals and tidy up. Even though she could manage everything by herself, for her son’s comfort, she preferred having the best for him. Disheartened, Sophia put down the cucumber she had been cutting and leaned against the doorframe, watching Ambrose play his game. The sight made her a little sad. “Little White...” she called out. “Hmm?” he replied, still staring at the screen. Without her glasses, reining in her reflection, Sophia felt like the world's most useless mother. Was Hilda, their housekeeper, truly a failure? Every meal she prepared turned the Kitchen of Plenty into a chaos reminiscent of a messy battlefield. Little White rolled his eyes, another mark against Hilda, but she had no choice—once a month, like clockwork, they hit what they called “Mom's Low Season.” With a sigh, Sophia abandoned her vegetable preparation and approached the Kitchen door, bending down to hug Ambrose, pressing her head against his tiny chest. His soft little arms wrapped around her head as he patted her gently. “Mom, life wouldn’t be so great without you and my genius self! You're already a huge success by just being my mother!” Sophia felt a swell of warmth in her chest, fighting back tears at the sweet sentiment. Meanwhile, in the cozy kitchen, Young Gideon was quick to whip up vegetables and soup. Longridge Archibald sat at the table, dining when the doorbell rang impatiently. Looking at the caller ID, Sophia saw it was the ever-bubbly Clara Goodwin. Quickly stepping into the study, she closed the door before answering the phone, “Hello, Hilda?” “Hilda! I’ve had lunch already, and Archibald and Dorian are just chilling on the couch watching TV,” she fibbed, scribbling notes on a nearby notepad.
Chapter 4
“Don’t you dare try to fool me!” Rosalind Grey said with a mix of sternness and concern. “I saw that scoundrel, Harrison Bright, this afternoon while I was out shopping! He had that enchanting trollop, Selene, swiping his card! I almost stormed over there to give him a piece of my mind!” “Uh…” Sophia Fairchild wiped the sweat from her brow. Rosalind, at fifty-five, was as impulsive and outspoken as ever, and it worried her. “Hilda, are you okay?” “What’s there for me to be worried about?” Rosalind sighed deeply. “Little Elena, you’ve really been working hard, and frankly, when Lord Goodwin suggested you two get married, I selfishly thought you might just be the one to rein Dorian Bright in, bring that rogue back in line. But now, with time passing… I see things more clearly.” Sophia scrunched up her nose, a sinking feeling creeping in. “Hilda, what do you mean?” “I’ve finally figured it out!" Rosalind clapped a hand on Gawain's leg, her eyes filled with pain. “Today, Adeline and I are going to make that little brat choose — will he continue living like a party animal with Granny Selene or settle down and have a real life with you?” “...What?” Sophia froze in disbelief. Is this really... about getting a divorce? The very thought sent a whirlwind of panic through her. Where would she find another wealthy man like Harrison Bright, who not only showered her with gifts but also supported her and her brother, Benjamin, financially? No way! There’s simply no way! Adeline Hall, 9 PM, Goodwin Manor. Sophia stepped out of the carriage and looked into her compact mirror. She wore her reading glasses, a minimalist white blouse, and simple jeans — altogether, a tired but classic look, not exactly glamorous but certainly an understated image of the ideal daughter-in-law. Pushing through the grand doors, she called out, “Grandmother Agatha, I’m back!” “Little Elena!” The loud and cheerful voice of Aunt Matilda rang through the halls. As she bent down to change her shoes, she could hear Rosalind calling from the Great Room, “Little Elena has arrived!” “Grandmother Agatha.” Sophia rushed over to the elegantly seated Rosalind. With silver hair and a complexion glowing with warmth, Rosalind Grey beamed when she saw Sophia. “Come here, my dear! Let me have a proper look at my precious daughter-in-law.” As Sophia settled into the seat beside her, Rosalind took a firm hold of her hand, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I can’t believe it’s been a week since I last saw you! I simply must have words with Dorian about allocating you so little time. He should know better!” Sophia maintained a charming smile. “Grandmother Agatha, I’m the one at fault! I’ll make sure to visit you more often, especially with everything happening with Dorian.” Seeing how well Sophia managed her roles of wife while still understanding the burdens of family, she couldn’t help but admire her own acting skills. Rosalind’s expression shifted as a troubled thought crossed her mind, pulling her back to the recent conversation about Adeline and Harrison. “Little Elena, I adore you, but I can’t bear to see you unhappy! Red Yara is right; you deserve better than this! What’s wrong with our Dorian? He’s lost his charm.” “Who’s really lost their charm?” A lazy yet confident male voice suddenly cut into their exchange. Sophia turned instinctively to see what was happening. In the foyer stood Harrison Bright, drenched in the soft light from the chandelier, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, and he looked every bit the picture of alluring mischief. The rugged lines of his handsome face were acutely defined, but it was his slight smirk that hinted at trouble. Seeing the awe in Sophia’s gaze made Harrison chuckle, “Hey, sweetie, is that how you greet your husband when you get back from… shopping?” Sophia felt a flush of warmth creep up her cheeks at his playful address. Pulling her gaze away, she blinked rapidly, reasserting her composure. “You jerk!” Rosalind stood up, pointing her cane toward him. “Where the heck have you been? Spill it!” Harrison grasped the cane playfully. “Grandmother Agatha, I spent the entire day at the Captain’s Club, you can ask Little Elena.” He gave Sophia a sideward glance as he spoke. Sophia recognized his cue but maintained a stoic demeanor, choosing not to respond. Harrison continued, “...” “What happened after you wrapped things up with the Captain?” Rosalind interrogated, her expression filled with doubt and irritation. Having been a matriarch with a penchant for investigation, Rosalind had her suspicions. Throughout her life, there had been many stories, each different from the other, about young Dorian’s mischief with varied associates at various venues. Now that they had settled down for marriage, she eagerly anticipated the joy of grandchildren. But, as the days pass, Sophia’s lacking was concerning her to no end. “Time’ll tell, Grandma Agatha,” came Harrison’s quick reply. “I’ve been quite busy today doing business on behalf of the house. Ask around.” He turned to Sophia, then cast a wink, intensifying the bloom of her cheeks. If only he had publicly declared his feelings for her, it might soothe her own blooming fears. Examining the family dynamics was one thing, but personal warmth required nurturing. Sophia knew her worth, just as did every woman seeking commitment, especially in roles they played within these four walls. With expectations surrounding them, confused feelings often shrank into murkiness. In this search for clarity, love willed her onward, weighed her heart, and beckoned her patience. She stood in silence as whispers of family expectations danced around them. Meanwhile, as the drama unfolded, elsewhere among the factions vying for power, others crafted their stories, fighting against the encroaching darkness of uncertainty and strife. “Time will see us through, one way or another,” she'd remind herself.
Chapter 5
HarriSnoopon Thomas leaned back against the plush cushions of the couch, his arm casually resting around Madam Hilda's waist. He observed the delicate texture of her skin, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. "Grandma Agatha," he teased, "I swear your skin has gotten even smoother since I last saw you a few days ago. That skincare line I got Margaret to buy is working wonders, huh? Should I pick you up another set?" “Really?” Madam Hilda, now visibly more relaxed, reached up to caress her cheek, her earlier tension melting away. “That explains why Margaret's brother-in-law has been saying I look vibrant lately!” “Absolutely,” HarriSnoopon replied, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “You look so youthful now; I wouldn't say you're a day over thirty!” Madam Hilda chuckled, her lips curling into a smile, though she playfully glared at Lady Rosalind sitting across from them. “Smooth talker…” “Hilda!” Lady Rosalind called out from the kitchen, dryly shaking her head. “You let him flatter you with just a few words!” Madam Hilda felt a hint of embarrassment wash over her. She pushed Lady Rosalind’s hand away from her, feigning annoyance. “It’s hot; don’t sit so close!” HarriSnoopon slid over to the edge of the couch with a raised eyebrow, pulling a lighter and a cigarette from his pocket. Just as he was about to light it, Lady Rosalind snatched it away, tossing it onto the nearby tea table. “What do you think you’re doing? Enough of that! We need to address Archibald’s situation.” She crossed her arms, adopting a serious demeanor. “Now that Margaret is here, Dorian, I want to get your thoughts. Are you planning to move forward with this marriage or not?” HarriSnoopon leaned back into the cushions, twirling the lighter in his fingers, appearing more nonchalant than ever. “When have I ever said I wanted to end it?” Lady Rosalind narrowed her eyes, trying to read his expression for any hint of seriousness. “And can you put an end to those distractions in front of Granny?” HarriSnoopon smirked, clearly enjoying the banter. “Hilda, as I mentioned before, those ladies are purely for social engagements.” “Such nonsense!” Lady Rosalind scoffed. “What about Lady Stone? Margaret’s family owns a nationwide chain of restaurants. Her social calendar must be even busier than yours, yet we never see her at every gala with a different beautiful woman in tow!” HarriSnoopon arched a brow, ready to explain. “Hilda, if you recall, you married my grandfather a tad early, and Reddy never cared to learn about these social nuances. Some women are suited for serious negotiations, while others thrive in relaxed settings. You know me, I’m definitely the latter!” Sophia Fairchild could only watch, utterly amused. The playful dynamic had melted the tension earlier in the room regarding the divorce, and she exhaled her relief, grateful to see everyone in high spirits. She took out her phone, intending to check on the livestream’s status. It was nearing nine, and she wondered if the little ones were in bed yet. Just then, Madam Hilda turned her head. “Elena.”
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