Chapter 2

That evening, Cordelia went to her best friend Yvaine Obelon's house.

When Yvaine heard Ondine had returned, she exploded. "Where was Ondine when you were breaking your back taking care of him? Why the hell should you be the one to leave now that she's back?"

Cordelia clutched the divorce agreement, her voice soft. "Forget it. He's giving me compensation."

"I'd love to see how much!" Yvaine snatched the agreement from her hands. When she saw the long list of assets, her expression shifted, but she stayed stubborn. "That still doesn't make it right! Does he think you're what—the Carnegie family's housekeeper?"

Cordelia smiled bitterly and said nothing.

"What are you going to do now?" Yvaine asked, concern filling her eyes.

"I want to go to Sylvanor to continue my studies." Cordelia shared her plan.

In college, she'd won numerous international fashion design awards. Her professor had even urged her to study abroad in Sylvanor after graduation. But back then, all she'd cared about was being a good wife to Ellington. She'd given up that opportunity.

Now that her marriage dream had shattered, she could at least chase her career dreams.

Yvaine studied her for a moment, then sighed. "If you hadn't married Ellington, you'd probably be standing on the international stage by now."

Cordelia shook her head. "Let's not talk about that. I have to get up early tomorrow. Sorry for crashing here tonight."

Yvaine squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "Don't be ridiculous. What are friends for?"

That night, Cordelia lay in bed, unable to sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the photo of Ellington and Ondine looking so intimate.

She didn't know why she felt so devastated. She'd known this was coming all along. But her heart still felt like someone had carved a piece out of it—empty and aching.

Early the next morning, Cordelia arrived at the courthouse to finalize the divorce.

She waited for what felt like forever, but Ellington never showed.

Just as she was about to leave, her phone rang. It was Yvaine.

"Cordelia, there's an emergency with the fashion show. Can you come?" Yvaine sounded frantic.

After hanging up, Cordelia rushed to the venue Yvaine had sent her.

The moment she entered, she saw the two people she least wanted to see.

Ellington sat in the front row VIP section, with Ondine beside him. Ondine wore an elegant cream-colored gown, her hair cascading gently over her shoulders. She was tilting her head toward Ellington with a smile, talking to him. They looked close.

Cordelia's chest tightened. No wonder Ellington hadn't shown up at the courthouse—he was here, keeping his beloved company at a fashion show.

She planned to slip past them and head backstage to find Yvaine, but Ellington spotted her first.

"Cordelia, what are you doing here?" Ellington's brow furrowed slightly when he saw her, and he instinctively put some distance between himself and Ondine.

Ondine looked at Cordelia with suspicion, sizing her up before greeting her graciously. "So you're Ms. Sinclair. What a coincidence."

"I'm here to see a friend," Cordelia said, avoiding their eyes.

Ondine studied her for a moment. "Ms. Sinclair, you're not upset that I asked Ellington to accompany me to the show, are you? I'm sorry—I just got back to the country and don't have many friends. Ellington was the only person I could think of..."

"Of course not." Cordelia smiled lightly, her gaze briefly flicking to Ellington. "Mr. Carnegie, next time you have plans, could you let me know in advance? I waited at the courthouse for quite a while."

Ellington's eyes darkened. He said nothing.

"I have things to do. I won't keep you two." Cordelia turned and headed backstage.

After she left, Ondine asked Ellington curiously, "Were you supposed to go to the courthouse today?"

"Yes." Ellington seemed distracted.

Ondine could probably guess why he'd been going to court. Her face filled with apology. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were planning to..."

"It's fine." Ellington's expression remained blank, his eyes still fixed on the direction Cordelia had gone.

The moment Cordelia reached backstage, Yvaine rushed over with red-rimmed eyes. "Cordelia, I'm so sorry. We worked so hard on these designs, but my model just sprained her ankle and can't walk. Do you know any other models?"

Cordelia looked at the pale blue gown in front of her, her brow furrowing.

This was difficult. Since marrying Ellington, she'd given up fashion design entirely—she didn't know any models anymore. This gown itself had only been designed because Yvaine had talked her into it during her spare time.

When Cordelia didn't respond, Yvaine's tears started falling.

Cordelia immediately handed her a tissue. "Don't panic. We'll figure something out."

Yvaine looked her up and down, then suddenly grabbed her hand. "Cordelia, didn't you learn runway modeling back in the day? Could you help me out? Just this once?"

Cordelia's eyes widened. She immediately refused. "How could I possibly do that?"

Although her college professor had praised her, saying her physique and bearing were perfect for runway work—that she was a natural model—she'd just publicly announced her divorce from Ellington yesterday. If she showed up in a gown in front of Ellington and his first love, who knew what the media would make of it.

"Cordelia, please." Yvaine clutched her hand, shaking it back and forth. "I really want people to see our work."

Hearing that, Cordelia wavered.

Fashion design was her lifelong dream. No designer wanted anything less than to see their work shine on the runway.

She glanced around, her gaze finally settling on a half-face feathered mask on the makeup table.

In front of the runway, Ondine surveyed the crowd of guests and asked Ellington, "Do you really think Ms. Sinclair was just here to see a friend?"

Ellington frowned. "What do you mean?"

Ondine smiled. "I've heard that a lot of wealthy wives like to follow their husbands around. Maybe Ms. Sinclair was worried about you and came to check on you?"

Ellington lowered his eyes thoughtfully but said nothing.

Seeing his reaction, Ondine dropped the subject. "I heard the closing designer for this show is a young woman. Do you know her?"

Ellington shook his head. "No."

The lights suddenly dimmed. The curtain on the runway parted, and a woman in a blue gown wearing a feathered mask slowly emerged.