Chapter 8
One hour later…..
Aliana arrived at the main mansion.
The pavilion might have been comfortable, but it was clearly designed to keep her separated from the heart of the Velor family. If Andrian and Bianca thought she would stay tucked away without making a move, they were gravely mistaken.
As she stepped into the mansion, a few staff members bowed respectfully. The interior was just as opulent as its exterior–gleaming marble floors and classical paintings adorned the walls. But despite the luxury, the place felt cold–as if no real life existed within it.
A dignified elderly man in a black suit approached. He looked to be in his sixties, his white hair neatly combed, his presence commanding.
“Good morning, Miss Alicia… Ah–pardon me, Miss Aliana,” he greeted politely. “I’m Albert, the head butler of this estate. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Aliana studied Albert’s posture and tone carefully before replying.
I want to see Andrian,” she said coolly, though still courteous.
Albert hesitated.
“Mr. Andrian just returned from his trip, Miss. He’s currently resting.”
“Show me to his room,” Aliana ordered. “I am his wife. I don’t need anyone’s permission to visit my husband’s room.”
Albert was clearly taken aback but quickly composed himself.
“F–forgive me, Miss. I meant no offense,” he said respectfully, glancing nervously at Aliana.
“But Mr. Andrian just arrived this morning. He may still be recovering from the long trip.”
“I don’t care how tired he is,” Aliana replied icily. “I just want to see my husband.”
Albert hesitated. It was clear that Aliana’s request crossed certain unspoken boundaries within the Velor household. But her legal status as Andrian’s wife left him no room to refuse.
He gave a small nod and led the way down a long hallway until they reached a large, beautifully carved wooden door.
“This is Mr. Andrian’s room,” Albert said quietly, stepping aside to let her through.
Aliana stared at the door sharply, as if trying to pierce it with her thoughts. She gestured for Elena, who stood behind her, to wait outside.
Without wasting time, Aliana knocked softly–then pushed the door open without waiting for a reply.
The sight that greeted her made her freeze momentarily.
Standing in the room was a woman, clad in a thin red silk nightgown that hugged her body perfectly. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders and her confident eyes locked immediately onto Aliana.
it was Bianca Lorraine.
Bianca looked briefly startled to see her–but the expression quickly morphed into a sly, mocking smile.
“Oh,” she said sweetly, though it sounded like a taunt
So the wife has arrived. Aliana, istr’t it? I almost mistook you for Alicia. You two really are like drops of water.”
Aliana said nothing. She stood perfectly still, calmly assessing the woman before her–her confidence, her arrogance, the way she acted
like she owned the room
“I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your wedding.” Bianca continued in a soft, syrupy voice laced with poison.
“I was very busy preparing for Andrian’s trip out of town. And, of course, our little overnight stay.”
3:44 PM P
Chapter 8
Overnight stay.
D
The words were aimed like daggers–but Aliana showed no reaction. She simply stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, slowly and calmly.
oring ex
“Where is Andrian?” she asked coldly, ignoring everything Bianca had just said.
Bianca crossed her arms and leaned against a table near the bed.
“You want to see Andrian? I understand. You must be upset he didn’t spend your wedding night with you.”
Aliana didn’t answer. Her gaze remained flat, her expression unreadable. Her silence was more unnerving than anger.
Bianca’s smile faltered slightly but she pressed on, voice sharpening.
“He’s in the shower,” she said.
“Last night at the hotel wasn’t quite enough for us, so he decided to continue the fun here. He’s… freshening up now.”
She threw a deliberate glance at the rumpled bed–pillows askew, sheets tangled, the lingering scent of intimacy in the air.
But instead of anger, Aliana responded with just one word:
“Disgusting.”
The cold simplicity of her tone caught Bianca off guard. She hadn’t expected that kind of reaction.
“I’ll wait outside,” Aliana said, her voice calm but firm.
“Tell Andrian I want to speak with him.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked out, leaving Bianca frozen and speechless.
Once the door clicked shut, Bianca clenched her jaw. Her eyes burned with unveiled hatred.
“Damn it! That woman is different,” she hissed under her breath, fists clenched.
“She’s nothing like Alicia.”
Bianca remembered how easily Alicia had been broken.
She had been soft, easy to manipulate, easy to destroy.
But Aliana? She was like a stone wall–impenetrable, cold, and unyielding.
Still, Bianca wouldn’t let anyone–neither Alicia then, nor Aliana now–take her place beside Andrian.
She lifted her chin with renewed defiance, her lips curling into a sinister smile.
“I won’t lose,” she whispered.
“Not to Alicia. Not to Aliana. Not to anyone.”
A few minutes after Aliana left the room, Andrian emerged, freshly groomed.
His hair was still slightly damp, neatly combed, and the familiar scent of his aftershave hung subtly in the air.
He wore a dark gray suit, complete with a perfectly tied the. His steps were confident, reflecting a man used to being in control of every aspect of his life
His gaze immediately locked onto Aliana, who stood in the hallway, waiting with a calm, emotionless face. Not far behind her, Elena stood rigidly, barely restraining herself from throwing a sharp remark at the man who had so blatantly neglected her mistress
Andrian stopped in front of Aliana. His eyes met hers—she was now his wife. But instead of a warm greeting, cold words spilled from
“Why are you here to see me this carly in the morning?” he asked flatly, as if her presence was an unwelcome intrusion.
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3:44 PM P
Chapter S
Elena clenched her fists at her sides. She wanted desperately to speak up, to defend Aliana. But she knew her place. She forced herself to stay silent–especially seeing how unshaken Aliana remained, as if Andrian’s words held no weight at all.
“I need to discuss a few things with you.” Aliana said, her voice steady, calm, and full of quiet authority.
Andrian glanced at his watch.
“I don’t have time right now. I’ve got a meeting.”
Aliana observed his body language carefully. She knew he wasn’t lying or avoiding her–he genuinely had a packed schedule.
“When will you have time?” she asked–not accusing, not forceful, just seeking clarity.
Andrian hesitated, reluctant to give her an answer.
“Maybe during my lunch break.”
Aliana nodded without protest.
“Fine. I’ll meet you at the office this afternoon.”
Without waiting for his approval, she turned and walked away, graceful and composed. Elena followed behind her, shooting a sideways glare at Andrian before leaving as well.
Andrian stood there for a moment, watching Aliana’s figure retreat down the hallway. Something about her unsettled him. She didn’t yell. She didn’t argue about last night. She didn’t throw a tantrum over his absence. In fact, she made the decision on her own to meet him later–without waiting for his confirmation.
That assertiveness stirred something uncomfortable in him.
Aliana didn’t ask–she declared.
She didn’t wait–she acted.
Andrian was used to controlling everything, to dictating every conversation and every move. No one ever set the terms with him. But Aliana just had.
His annoyance simmered, but he pushed it aside. He had more pressing matters waiting at the office. With a quick motion, he adjusted his tie and started down the stairs to leave the mansion.
But before he got far, a sweet, manipulative voice stopped him.
“Andrian”
It was Bianca, calling out softly as she approached.
Andnan turned. Bianca had changed out of her nightgown into a șimple yet elegant house dress. She wore a sweet smile and slid her arms around his, rising onto her toes to be closer to him.
“Are you sure you’re okay going to the meeting alone?” she asked with mock concern.
“What if something happens during the meeting?”
Andrian looked at her briefly and nodded.
“I can handle myself. You should rest. Your body needs to recover from the trip. You know your health is always my priority.”
Bianca smiled slightly pleased by his attention. She loosened her grip but stayed close, gazing at him with a mixture of affection and pride.
“Alright” she said with a soft sigh, as if reluctant to let him go.
“But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call the
Andrian didn’t respond He simply walked away with his usual confident stride, leaving Bianca standing alone
She remained in place, watching tus back fade into the distance. Her smile widened, full of smug satisfaction.
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Chapter 8
“Andrian will always be mine,” she thought.
“It doesn’t matter if I don’t have the title of ‘wife. As long as I’m with him, that’s enough.”
Once Andrian disappeared from view, Bianca returned to his room. Her eyes swept across the space with a sense of ownership. To her, this was her territory–even if she held no official claim to it.
She walked over to the bed and let out a soft sigh at the crumpled sheets. Gently, she began stripping the linens, replacing them with fresh ones.
Andrian didn’t like his sheets being used by others–not even by her.
A small, quiet fact known only to Bianca. Not even the rest of the Velor household knew that.
As she worked efficiently, Bianca smiled in satisfaction.
To her, this was proof–proof that she knew Andrian better than anyone, even better than his own family.
These details–his habits, preferences, quirks–were her trophies.
“No one understands Andrian like I do,” Bianca whispered, fluffing the final pillow.
“Not even that woman… Aliana.”
Her thoughts drifted back to the encounter with Aliana that morning.
ག་ ད་ ་ ན་ ་ ད ་ད ར ད་ས་ང་་རང་ ི ་ང་ང་ ང་ ར་ང་དང་
་རར་་་ན་་་་ ན་ ང་ གི་
ར་ང་ ་ཅེས་་་ ་ ང་ ་༨ འདག་ ད་རརེ་་ད ང་ ད་ འང་་ད་ང་ན་སྐ་ཅ་ན
She had expected an emotional, impulsive rival–but Aliana’s calmness and icy restraint had thrown her off. She hadn’t flinched, hadn’t even blinked at Bianca’s provocations.
Bianca clenched her jaw.
“She may be strong, but she won’t last long,” she muttered.
“Andrian will stay mine, no matter what title she holds.”
She adjusted the bed one last time, ensuring every fold was flawless. The room now reflected Andrian’s perfectionism–his standards, his control.
But Bianca couldn’t shake the unease creeping into her chest.
As confident as she was in Andrian’s feelings, Aliana’s presence was a real threat. She wasn’t just a wife on paper–she was a force. A woman with presence, with strategy, with power.
“No matter,” Bianca whispered to herself, trying to calm her racing heart.
“She’ll realize soon enough… she has no place here.”
With that, Bianca stepped out of Andrian’s room once more, wearing her smile like a weapon. As long as she stayed close to Andrian, she
was certain:
no one could take her place.
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