Between Secrets and Second Chances

Chapter 1

In the vibrant world of celebrity gossip, the latest scandal broke out surrounding the affluent and well-known couple, Alexander de Grey and Isabella Grey. Alexander, a prominent figure in the entertainment industry, was caught in a compromising scenario with a rising starlet, while Isabella, his bewildered wife, appeared oblivious to the public drama unfolding around her.

Meanwhile, online discussions were buzzing with topics affecting relationships. One anonymous user lamented on the "Edge of the World" forum, "After a year of marriage, my husband still can’t remember my face!” This sparked a flurry of responses as other users chimed in with both advice and laughter.

Adding fuel to the fire, celebrated author Isabella Grey released her latest book, "A Faceblind's Self-Cultivation," which humorously explores the challenges of living with face blindness. Her sharp wit coupled with personal anecdotes struck a chord with many, not just in the literary community but also among those grappling with their own interpersonal relationships.

Among the whispers that permeate the entertainment guild was the low-key presence of Eleanor duval, often dubbed as the quiet heiress in the industry. Comparisons to previous stars and the pressure of maintaining a public image magnified her tranquility, which was at odds with the chaotic headlines multiplying around her.

In a reflective moment, Mabel White, a friend to Isabella and a budding writer, mused to herself, “I used to think love was something created by storytellers, just a passing fancy. But meeting you, I realized that a person can truly be captivated by another.”

The winds of change were evident, and as faces changed in the crowd, Alexander stood at a crossroads, caught between the allure of fame and the sanctuary he found within Isabella’s unwavering spirit. Each whispered secret, each brewing scandal, revealed not just the fragility of celebrity life but the deep-seated emotions that often tangled in its wake.

Chapter 2

Isabella Grey had a peculiar flaw: she couldn't remember faces. Medically, it's known as prosopagnosia, but there's an easier term online—face blindness. This manifested in her extreme difficulty in retaining a lasting impression of people's appearances. Even after knowing someone for a year or two, they could still feel like a stranger if she didn't consciously focus on their features.

And now, here she was, facing that exact situation.

Isabella pushed away the eager woman who had embraced her tightly, took a moment to stare, and quirked an eyebrow. "Hugh?"

Sebastian Willoughby chuckled. "So you do remember me!"

"Remember you? More like, the only person in this restaurant who leaps at me for a hug is you," Isabella replied.

Under the soft moonlight filtering through the historic Chinese courtyard, the scene was beautifully lit by hexagonal wooden lanterns hanging at intervals, their flickering light dancing with the ivory gauze below. A gentle breeze swayed the lanterns as if they were rippling waves.

Isabella Grey stood beneath one of those lanterns, her lips curving into a light laugh. Sebastian protested, "You’re exaggerating! I’ve taught you to cook for a whole year. It can't be that you don’t recognize me!"

Isabella touched her own face lightly. "Most of our lessons were over the phone, and the few video calls we had? I barely looked at the screen. It’s not surprising I didn’t remember."

Sebastian rolled her eyes, exasperated.

Isabella and Sebastian had met two years prior when Isabella was brought to the restaurant for a meal. She had hit it off with the passionate chef, Hugh, and later, after a stint in England where she couldn’t stand the bland food, Gideon had urged her to reach out to Sebastian to teach her how to make authentic Chinese dishes. The two women, close in age, had forged a solid friendship over time.

Seeing the way Sebastian huffed, Isabella felt a surge of compassion and decided to stop teasing. "All right, I was just kidding. Of course I remember your face. Anyone who cooks for me feels like a reincarnated parent. I'd never forget you!"

Sebastian smiled, satisfied with the compliment. "Now that’s more like it!"

As she spoke, she took in the sight of her friend after two long years apart.

In July, Berkshire was sweltering, and Isabella's outfit reflected the season; she wore a sleek black Dior gown paired with twelve-centimeter stilettos. Her hair, almost reaching her waist, was held up with a wooden hairpin, leaving a few curls cascading down her back. Slim and striking, her alabaster skin shone under the moonlight, and with her height, she could easily pass as a runway model, exuding a commanding presence.

Makeup was minimal, but her subtle smile and alluring red lips hinted at an enticing charm.

Clearly, the past two years had treated her well.

Sebastian peered at her with curiosity. "You've been back in the States for a while now. I was taken aback when I got your call. No one mentioned anything!"

"Just over two weeks," Isabella replied. "I’d been busy with work, so I didn’t reach out to anyone."

"What kind of work requires such secrecy?" Sebastian eyed her curiously.

Isabella merely smiled, changing the subject. "Enough chit-chat. I came here for dinner; let’s head to the private room."

Sebastian's expression turned apologetic. "Well, that’s a bit inconvenient; the Little Diner is booked for the night, and I don’t have any spots left."

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Surely I can’t be the exception?"

Sebastian looked conflicted. "It’s... complicated. You know business has its rules. Once it's reserved, I can’t offer a table to anyone else."

Isabella fell silent, considering.

Sebastian’s restaurant had developed quite the reputation in town; it was less of a typical restaurant and more like a private home kitchen, usually serving only known clients referred by friends. Nestled within her own Quad Courtyard, the prices in Berkshire could easily rival several high-end villas, indicating that a meal here would certainly be extravagant.

Chapter 3

She laughed, her rhinestone-studded fingernails brushing over her crocodile leather handbag. "Which wealthy family is splurging like this? Even your shop must feel the pressure!"

Sebastian Willoughby made a strange face, indicating he couldn't comment further.

With others having put it so bluntly, Isabella Grey couldn’t hold her ground any longer. Just as she was about to leave, the soft sound of a pipa drifted through the air—clear and melodious, like a tinkling spring.

Isabella turned with interest.

She couldn’t play the pipa, but as a child, she had practiced calligraphy, with "Song of the Pipa" being the one she enjoyed the most. “The verses whisper through the autumn leaves, while the large strings clang in a rush, and the smaller strings murmur with quiet secrets.” Her grandfather would hold her hand, reciting the lines as her aunt would accompany on the pipa.

Without realizing it, she began walking toward the sound, and Sebastian Willoughby trailed closely behind. "What are you doing, Grey? Where are you headed?"

"This must be the pipa performance at your shop. Your staff has certainly raised the bar; their skills are worthy of a performing arts group. I just want to have a look," she replied playfully.

"Not quite that dramatic... Wait, I don’t have any employees playing the pipa. This must be my innkeeper."

Isabella halted, intrigued. "Your innkeeper?"

"Yeah."

Isabella crossed her arms. "Is that the person ahead?"

Sebastian turned in surprise and realized they had reached the corner of the corridor. In the courtyard up ahead stood a tall, graceful figure—Gideon Moss was poised at the bottom of the steps. They couldn't see his face, only a handsome silhouette in a tailored black suit, exuding a calm, relaxed demeanor.

Isabella felt a thrill at the unexpected. That beautiful pipa playing was being done by a man, but then he stepped aside slightly, revealing a woman with long hair wearing a lovely Mabel dress. She sat on a stone bench, holding a five-string pipa in her arms. Bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, she looked like a figure from an ancient painting.

Isabella gasped, "It's her."

Sebastian countered, "No, it isn't. You're mistaken."

Isabella shot him a look. "Am I the one with face blindness, or are you? That woman—surely it can't be the rising star Fiona Montrose."

Sebastian blinked, his expression peculiar. "You know her."

"Yeah, I've been watching her show lately. Just happened to catch a few episodes," she replied nonchalantly.

Fiona Montrose was a household name by now. She burst onto the scene in high school, starring as the lead in the acclaimed movie "The Lovers of Seattle," directed by Master Blackwood. That high-profile start led to overnight fame, and nearly a decade later, she had carved out a reputable position in the industry, one of the leading actresses of her generation.

Sebastian let out a breath and smiled. "You're absolutely right. I can't believe she not only acts but is also this talented on the pipa."

At that moment, Fiona Montrose looked up and asked the man beside her with a bright smile, "Do you like it? I’ve been practicing because I need to play in my next movie. Thankfully, I had a solid foundation when I was little; I think it sounds pretty good."

The man chuckled softly, "It's more than just 'good.'"

His voice was melodious, deep and rich, reminiscent of fine wine.

Fiona laughed lightly. "You're just flattering me. It's rare that I have qualities that catch the eye of someone like you, Lord Alexander."

The man stretched the last word, "I’ve seen so many things in you already."

Fiona smiled back at him, her lips curving charmingly.

Sebastian nudged Isabella gently. "Okay, we’ve seen her. Let’s get going."

Chapter 4

Isabella Grey was not one for eavesdropping, but curiosity mingled with her instinct for self-preservation. As she prepared to leave, Fiona Montrose casually mentioned, "By the way, I saw Shea at The Grand Hearth Inn. I noticed you with a certain young lady. Mind telling me who she is?"

The man remained silent and redirected the question. "What are you worried about?"

“Worried? Nothing at all. I just thought, if she happens to be your legendary wife, it wouldn’t be proper for us to meet again. After all, I have no intention of disrupting your marriage.”

A frown creased Isabella’s brow.

She had learned about Fiona Montrose's background for work, but she hadn’t known about this entanglement with a wealthy family. The tone of their conversation suggested that Fiona's interest was anything but platonic. With upcoming collaborations ahead, Isabella hoped to avoid any scandal that might taint her reputation.

The man stayed quiet, and Fiona's unease grew. “If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine…”

“Sebastian Willoughby, what are you doing here?”

Both women surprised, turned to see a man, face indistinct due to his distance, wearing a bemused expression as he approached.

Due to her face blindness, Isabella often struggled to determine beauty based on appearances, but this Cyrus had something different about him—his enchanting almond-shaped eyes, long and subtly upturned at the edges, were mesmerizing to her.

He hadn’t done anything overtly charming, but there was an undeniable allure in his gaze.

“Sorry to interrupt, but dinner is ready. Vincent is waiting for you both,” Sebastian said, seriousness replacing his usual light-hearted demeanor.

The man didn’t respond, instead turning his attention to the woman standing by. He couldn’t see her face, but something sparked in her captivating eyes. “And who might this be?”

Without waiting for Sebastian's reply, Isabella spoke up. “Since it seems Shea is busy tonight, I’ll come back another time.”

As she turned to leave, the man casually declared, “Stop right there.”

Isabella paused. His teasing tone sent a slight chill down her spine. “You were overhearing our conversation. Care to explain yourself, Miss?”

“Sorry, I truly wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. But rest assured, whatever I heard will stay between us,” Isabella replied.

The man's fingers danced along his chin. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

She shrugged. “What do you suggest? A signed confession?”

He remained silent, prompting Isabella to exhale deeply as she fished a cigarette from her bag, lifted it to her lips, and raised an eyebrow. “Well, what are you going to do about it now that I know?”

The atmosphere turned noticeably awkward.

Fiona Montrose was scowling. She had kept her involvement with Alexander de Grey under wraps. Given her status, if their affair were to come to light, it would shatter her public persona. She'd already found her footing in the entertainment world, and this woman’s sudden appearance today was a nuisance she couldn’t afford.

She glanced at Sebastian Willoughby, who, surprisingly, didn’t exude his usual comfort with authority but instead seemed focused on the ground—almost avoiding their conflict.

Alexander de Grey appraised Isabella Grey for a moment before giving a slight bow. “Just a joke, I trust Sebastian’s friends. If you say you won’t talk, then I take that at face value.”

Isabella realized he was shifting any future blame onto Sebastian. If any rumors sprang up, Alexander would hold him responsible.

A pang of guilt struck her. But Sebastian took a deep breath, ready to comply. “Of course, I can vouch for my friends.”

Suddenly, Alexander flashed a smile, his handsome features softening in the moonlight, looking every bit the charming man he was known as. “Besides, even without Sebastian's assurance, I wouldn’t trouble a beautiful lady. Feel free to speak your mind."

Isabella's heartbeat quickened—not from his charm but from a strange recognition. She flicked the lighter, igniting a small, blue flame, and in that moment, Alexander's expression shifted drastically.

Taking a long drag, she waved her hand at Sebastian. “See you later.” She turned on her heel and strode away.

Sebastian gave a nervous chuckle before hurrying off too.

Fiona Montrose complained, “You’re just going to let her walk away like that? If she tells the press…”

Alexander brushed her concerns aside. “Anyone who comes here is already out of the loop regarding our industry dramas. You’re overthinking it.”

Fiona swallowed her retort.

Alexander continued to gaze in Isabella's direction until she disappeared from view. His demeanor was strange, prompting Fiona to ask, “You do realize you were quite taken with her looks, right? Did you even catch a clear glimpse of her face?”

Alexander replied, “Not clearly, but she bears a slight resemblance to my wife.”

Fiona turned, confused, as she caught a hint of something unhinged in his expression. He shook his head and laughed softly at himself. “But I must be mistaken. My wife is abroad; she wouldn’t be here.”

Chapter 5

Isabella Grey had barely stepped out of the restaurant when her phone rang. It was Christopher Alden, his voice booming as always. “Hey! Where are you? Are you free right now?”

“Just finished dinner… sort of. What’s up?” Isabella replied, frustration lacing her tone.

“Skipping dinner, huh? Perfect! I’ll send you an address. Hurry over, my treat!” Christopher said excitedly.

“First, let me know what this is really about,” she insisted.

Knowing he couldn’t dodge her question, Christopher admitted, “It’s a gathering for the crew tonight. The director, the producers, and the main cast will be there. You should come and meet everyone.”

“I’m just a screenwriter. Do I really need to go to this?” Isabella asked skeptically.

“Any respectable screenwriter would jump at the chance, especially you, the original author and screenwriter. We’re just going through the motions by consulting you. I’ll give you one hour to show up, or we’re not done here,” he warned before hanging up.

Isabella rolled her eyes at the bright lights of the city streets and hailed a cab. It had been a rough few weeks. She’d traded her carefree life back in England for the solitude of The Inn, cranking out her script. Finally finished, she’d hoped for some good food, only to end up having to socialize on an empty stomach.

When she arrived at the address, it turned out to be a karaoke bar. As she walked in, the crowd turned to look at her just as the director, Vincent Blackwood, applauded her entrance. “Everyone, it’s our head screenwriter for ‘Princess Gaius,’ the brilliant Isabella Grey—a.k.a. Master Green!”

The applause that followed was mixed with surprise. As part of the crew, they all recognized her name from seven years ago when she published the novel ‘High Sun’ under the pseudonym Master Green. It had started as an online forum serial about Princess Gaius, the daughter of Emperor Taizong, and due to its meticulously researched details and rollercoaster plot, it had skyrocketed to fame, earning her the title of “the best author at blending history and romance.”

Until now, she’d been a mystery, avoiding public appearances. Everyone had imagined her as an elegant, classical figure; instead, they found her exuding a confident, sultry energy.

With a smile, Isabella greeted everyone and took a seat beside Christopher. He playfully draped an arm around her shoulders and teased, “We agreed on one hour. What took you so long?”

“This is the capital. An hour barely gets you across town. I arrived before you all ended the night; that shows I’ve got some respect,” Isabella shot back.

“See that? Vincent Blackwood and several key actors are already here. You should take a seat and mingle. We writers are a minority; when we need to get noticed, we can’t be shy,” he replied.

“But the leading lady hasn’t even arrived yet,” Isabella pointed out.

“That’s true. I have no idea what Fiona Montrose is up to. Her assistant said she would be here, but she’s managed to stand us up. Seems she’s ghosting the crew tonight,” he mused.

Isabella chuckled, “Yeah, I wonder what she’s doing.”

Suddenly, raucous laughter erupted from the right side of the private room. Isabella turned her head and locked eyes with a strikingly handsome guy. He had an athletic build, dressed casually in a polo shirt and jeans, and flashed a bright, sunny smile as a group of girls gathered around him. It looked as if he was performing magic tricks. He casually pulled a red rose from behind a girl’s ear with a flourish, prompting squeals of delight from the crowd.

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