The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life

Chapter 1687:

Mother had hoped the marriage might eventually blossom into something tender and lasting.

But if Corrine became a wedge between them, it would only add sorrow to an already fragile situation.

After walking Chelsea back to her room, Rachel quietly returned to her own. She had just stepped out of the bathroom, still drying her hair, when the sound of the front door opening caught her attention. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Jules. “You’re back?”

Jules gave her a glance, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He looked away almost immediately. “Yeah.”

Dressed in a delicate satin nightgown, her skin kissed by the warmth of a fresh shower, Rachel looked every bit the picture of soft elegance. Her beauty glowed, effortless and disarming.

But Jules, haunted by memories of the night before, shoved down the ache rising inside him. His desire warred with restraint, and restraint won—for now.

Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket and headed straight for the study. “Go to bed. I’ve got work.”

Watching his retreating back, Rachel stood motionless for a moment, the smile fading from her lips. Her voice, though soft, trembled faintly.

“Don’t overwork yourself. Get some rest too.”

“Mm.”

Rachel stared at the closed study door, trying hard to hold back her tears, but they slipped free anyway.

family was already stirring with quiet efficiency. Several family members prepared for the day’s visit,

one final time, the

within the Upper East Side—a neighborhood reserved for families not just wealthy, but storied, powerful, and

composure,

descended from the vehicle, Chelsea gave a quiet nod, signaling the staff to begin unloading the carefully chosen gifts. Inside the estate, news of their arrival spread quickly. Franco and

Elaine, approached just as the Fords passed through the stately courtyard, her smile warm and gracious. “Welcome, everyone. It’s good to have you

the drawing room, pleasantries drifted in the air like soft music. Franco remained composed, his gaze

the sofa, glanced

he

concern truly his own—or merely an errand someone had sent him

of his nose with a hint of sheepishness. “Please don’t get the wrong idea. Nate specifically asked me to

brow

welcome, Miss Holland,” Franco replied, attempting a

a faint one of her own before turning her

Typical. Even from afar, he was keeping a leash on

of being under surveillance—no matter

more than

engaged in idle conversation, eyes

glanced at his watch and then looked toward Chelsea

Michael Astley hasn’t been feeling well lately. I

air shifted. Rachel’s parents stiffened, their