Chapter 130
Elodie’s pov~
Liora didn’t want the bodyguard.
She pouted, her bottom lip trembling just slightly, and latched onto my arm. “Mom p>
That voice. That look… In the past, it would’ve worked. Every single time. I would’ve melted, rearranged my plans, stayed as long as she wanted.
But not today.
I gently unwound her fingers from my sleeve and took a step back. “I really do have something important to take care of, sweetheart. We’ll spend more time together next time, okay p>
Her eyes widened. She wasn’t used to hearing me say no.
I kept my expression calm, my brow slightly furrowed to show I meant it.
She studied my face for a moment, probably trying to figure out if she could push harder. But when she saw I wasn’t budging, her shoulders slumped.
“Alright then she mumbled, her voice small and disappointed.
I crouched down and kissed her forehead. “Be good. The bodyguard will take care of you p>
She nodded reluctantly, and I stood, giving the bodyguard a few quick instructions before heading to my car.
I didn’t look back.
If I did, I’d see her sad face, and I might change my mind.
But I needed this. Just this one thing for myself.
I slid into the driver’s seat, pulled up the navigation, and punched in the address of an antique market I’d never been to, one that was farther out, away from the usual tourist traps.
If I was going to find something meaningful, it would be there.
The market was tucked into a narrow street lined with old buildings, the kind of place you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. Inside, it was a labyrinth of stalls and tiny shops, each one was crammed with relics from another time.
I wandered slowly, running my fingers over jade carvings, porcelain vases, old scrolls tied with faded ribbons.
And then I saw a set of traditional scholar’s tools. They were… Four pieces, displayed on a bed of dark silk: brush, ink stick, paper, inkstone.
But these weren’t ordinary. The paper had a texture like woven silk, it looked precious. The brushes were carved from ancient wood, their handles inlaid with jade. The inkstone was polished to a mirror shine, deep black with veins of gold running through it.
I picked up one of the brushes, feeling its weight in my hand, feeling the smoothness of the carved handle.
And I could already see in my mind’s eyes, about my grandmother’s face lighting up. Her hands trembling slightly as she touched each piece. The way her eyes would soften, the way she’d smile, really smile, the kind that reached all the way to her heart.
This is it.
I didn’t even hesitate.
“I’ll take it,” I told the shopkeeper.
He named the price, just over ten million.
I didn’t blink. I handed over my card.
It was less than what Dante had spent on the embroidered scroll and the emerald jewelry. Far less.
But I knew my grandmother.
And I knew she’d treasure this more than anything else.
As the shopkeeper carefully wrapped each piece and placed them in a lacquered wooden box, I felt something shift inside me.
It was pride. A certainty that I’d done something right.
This was my gift. One I’d chosen. One that came from me, not from obligation or performance or someone else’s money.
Just me.
I was walking back to my car, the box tucked under my arm, when my phone rang.
“Hey Cara” I answered, unlocking the car with my free hand.
“Elodie, I’m so sorry. I have to go out of town tomorrow for work. I won’t be able to help you shop for your grandmother’s gift p>
I smiled, sliding the box onto the passenger seat. “It’s okay. I already found it p>
“Wait, seriously?” Her voice shot up. “Already? What did you get p>
I glanced at the box, and its polished surface caught the light. “A set of traditional scholar’s tools. They’re beautiful. She’s going to love them p>
“Oh my God, Elodie, that’s perfect!” Cara sounded genuinely thrilled. “I’m so happy for you p>
“Thanks. Me too p>
There was a pause, and then her tone shifted. Turning more careful.
“By the way… about the Brown family p>
My smile faded.
“You mentioned seeing them the other day,” she continued. “So I asked around. They’re definitely planning to move to the capital. I heard they’ve been looking at houses p>
I gripped the steering wheel, staring out at the crowded street.
“I see,” I said quietly. “Thanks for letting me know p>
“Are you okay p>
I took a breath. Let it out slowly. “Yeah. I’m okay p>
“As for Sienna’s side of the family,” Cara continued, “I heard they’ve already picked out a place. They’ll be moving in soon. And apparently, they’re already sending out invitations for a housewarming party p>
My grip tightened on the steering wheel.
Of course they are.
“Got it,” I said, keeping my voice level. “Thanks for the heads-up p>
“Anytime. Call me later p>
“Yeah. Drive safe p>
I hung up and pulled back onto the road, heading toward the city.
Next week was my grandmother’s birthday.
On Sunday, I took Liora back to the Miller family house and sat down with Uncle Jason and his wife to go over the details of the party, all the guests list, catering, seating arrangements. All the little things that needed to be perfect.
Dante wasn’t coming back that weekend. He was still away on business, so I stayed at the villa.
He’d be back on Tuesday, apparently.
Which meant I had a few more days before I’d have to see him again.
Before I left the villa that morning, I’d gone back upstairs to the bedroom and looked at those two boxes sitting on my vanity.
The emerald jewelry and the embroidered scroll.
Dante had placed them there, clearly expecting me to give them to my grandmother at her birthday party.
Maybe one from Nonna. One from the two of us, as a couple.
As if we’re still a couple. I’d stared at those boxes for a long moment, feeling something bitter curl in my chest.
Then I’d picked them up and brought them with me.
I didn’t know yet what I’d do with them. But I wasn’t leaving them there.
After dropping Liora off at school Monday morning, I went straight to the office.
Cole Technologies was juggling three or four new projects at once, and with the start of the new week, Johnny and I were buried.
Dante must’ve come back on schedule, because Liora didn’t call me once over the next few days.
Which meant she was with him. Or with Sienna.
Either way, she didn’t need me.
On Wednesday evening, Johnny and I had a dinner meeting with a potential client.
We were walking toward the private dining room when I saw Dante. Sienna. Logan. And Mrs. Brown.
They were standing near the entrance to another private room, chatting casually, looking like the perfect family.
My stomach twisted.
Mrs. Brown and Sienna’s mother, Janice, had both come to the capital now. And Dante, ever the dutiful prospective son-in-law, was clearly making an effort to show his respect.
He’d only gotten back from his business trip yesterday, and here he was, taking time out of his schedule to have dinner with them.
He’s always so attentive when it comes to Sienna.
The last time I’d seen the Brown family, they hadn’t noticed me.
But this time, both Mrs. Brown and Logan looked up. And they saw me.
They all froze for a split second, like they were debating whether to acknowledge me.
Maybe because Dante was there, none of them said anything.
Sienna and Dante, positioned slightly differently, but didn’t see me at all.
I pulled my gaze away, my expression blank, and turned toward my own private room.
None of them followed.
Over an hour later, after we’d finished our meal and said goodbye to the client, Johnny and I were walking through the parking lot when I saw them again.
The Brown family and Sienna.
They were standing by their cars, preparing to leave.
But Dante wasn’t with them.
He must’ve left early.
Johnny and I hadn’t even reacted yet when our client, Mr. Felton, a friendly man in his fifties, spotted them and immediately walked over, his face lighting up.
“Miss Brown! Mr. Brown!” he called out warmly.
I stopped in my tracks.