Chapter 11
“You really came back, Adora.” Hillary’s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes shimmering
with disbelief.
“I said I would, didn’t I? I’ve made my decision… I want to continue my life, with you.”
“Welcome home, future Mrs. Lynch.”
The night of Adora’s return to the Rockefeller estate, her family hosted a lavish welcome dinner in her honor. For the first time in ten years, she felt the warmth of family she had long forgotten. Her parents‘ eyes were filled with both guilt and joy as they repeatedly told her how much they had
missed her.
“We should have come for you sooner,” her mother said, embracing her with a voice choked with emotion. “But Hillary insisted we give you space and time.”
Adora chose to believe this explanation. After all, the past was behind her, and she was determined
to look forward.
In the days that followed, Adora and Hillary’s relationship blossomed rapidly. That kiss in the car seemed to have opened Pandora’s box, unleashing a chemistry between them that was surprising in its intensity. Adora discovered that in private, Hillary wasn’t always the composed, aristocratic gentleman he appeared to be. When his passion was ignited, his need for control and possession rivaled Luca’s–though his expression was more restrained and subtle.
One evening a month later, as Hillary held Adora in bed, he suddenly brought up a topic: “Have you thought about going back to school?”
Adora looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You gave up your education for Luca. That wasn’t fair.” His fingers gently combed through her hair. “You’re only twenty–eight. You can still pursue what you love.”
Adora fell silent. In her youth, she had indeed loved dancing, even dreaming of becoming a professional dancer. But she had abandoned that dream to follow Luca.
“I don’t know, Hillary… I’m too old now.”
“Nonsense. Tomorrow we’ll visit the best dance academies in the city. You’ll see just how talented
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you are.”
True to his word, the next day Hillary took her to tour several top dance academies. With his
encouragement and resources, Adora was soon accepted into the city’s most prestigious dance academy as a dance major.
Returning to school felt both familiar and strange. Adora was older than most students, but her
talent and dedication quickly earned the respect of both teachers and classmates. Hillary personally drove her to and from campus every day, sometimes bringing lunch to watch her practice, every bit the proud fiancé.
However, the good times didn’t last. As Adora regained her position within the family, she began to
notice subtle changes. Her parents increasingly mentioned her sister, Rosalind Rockefeller–who had taken over part of the family business during Adora’s absence.
“Rose has done exceptionally well,” her father remarked during a family dinner. “She’s nearly doubled the company’s profits.”
Adora tried not to feel slighted. After all, she had chosen a different life for the past decade, and it
was reasonable that her sister had stepped up to family responsibilities. But she couldn’t ignore the special gleam in her parents‘ eyes when they spoke of Rosalind–a pride and favoritism that Adora had never experienced.
More unsettling was Hillary’s apparent special attention to Rosalind. Whenever Rosalind appeared at family gatherings, Hillary would engage with her in business discussions, the two of them conversing with obvious rapport. Though Hillary assured Adora it was merely professional
conversation, she couldn’t overlook the subtle glances her sister gave him.
One evening, Adora accidentally overheard her parents talking.
“It’s good that Adora is back,” her father said, “but we can’t ignore the sacrifices and contributions Rose has made to the family over these ten years.”
“I know, darling,” her mother sighed. “But Hillary has been betrothed to Adora since childhood.
That’s an unchangeable fact.”
“Such a shame,” her father’s voice carried regret. “Rose and Hillary would make such a perfect pair.
A business genius and a social elite. Just imagine what they could do for the Rockefeller legacy.”
Adora froze outside the door, her heart pounding. She knew she should turn and leave, pretend she
hadn’t heard anything, but her feet seemed nailed to the floor.
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“They do complement each other well,” her mother continued. “I can tell Rose has feelings for him.”
“And Hillary?”
Her mother paused. “I’m not sure. He’s always been loyal to Adora… but sometimes I catch him looking at Rose… not the way one looks at just family.”
Adora felt dizzy. She stumbled back to her room, her mind a chaos of thoughts. Hillary loved her–of this she had no doubt. But she also knew that in high society, love often yielded to interests and
power.
In the weeks that followed, Adora began closely observing Hillary and Rosalind’s interactions. On the surface, everything seemed normal, but the details revealed subtle signs: their rapport, those inside jokes only they understood, and the occasional casual touch.
These might all be in her imagination, Adora tried to convince herself. After all, Hillary had waited for her for ten years; he couldn’t change his mind so easily. Yet, that feeling of unease wouldn’t
dissipate.
The preparations for the engagement party were in full swing. Adora threw herself into them, hoping to dispel her inner anxieties. Hillary, too, seemed more attentive and passionate than ever,
fulfilling almost all her requests.
The night before the engagement, Adora’s bachelorette party was held at the family villa. Her sister Rosalind had volunteered to organize it, which both surprised and touched Adora.
“To celebrate your return home, and tomorrow’s engagement,” Rosalind raised her glass with a smile. “Everything will be perfect, sis.”
Adora accepted the glass, feeling the hesitations in her heart melt a little. Perhaps she had overthought everything; perhaps there really was nothing between Rosalind and Hillary beyond family ties and a professional relationship.
“Thank you, Rose.”
The party progressed smoothly. Adora reunited with friends she hadn’t seen in years, drinking, chatting, and enjoying this rare moment of relaxation. When Rosalind handed her a specially mixed cocktail, she drank it without hesitation.
“To my dear sister, the bride–to–be.”
There was a strange bitter taste in the drink, shortly after, she began to feel dizzy and her vision
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blurred. The sounds around her became distant and muffled. The last thing she remembered was Rosalind supporting her, saying she would take her to rest.
In her hazy state, Adora felt herself being pushed into a car, followed by a blurry journey. She tried
to stay conscious, but her awareness kept slipping into darkness. Before completely losing
consciousness, she heard Rosalind saying on the phone:
‘Everything is proceeding according to plan.”
B
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