Chapter 3

Zoey stayed in the empty villa for a few days. All the while, Yves never came back. Without any memories or love, Zoey didn't find the solitude unbearable. In fact, she thought it was nice to wait until her immigration paperwork was finalized. At least, until her mother's call shattered the silence. "Wendy's birthday celebration will be held at 7:00 pm tomorrow at the Imperial Hotel," came Daphne's cold, indifferent voice. "Don't be late." "I don't—" "That's all." Daphne hung up without giving Zoey a chance to refuse. … Zoey slipped into the simplest black dress she had on the day of the banquet. As soon as she walked in, she spotted Wendy. She was being admired by everyone and Yves, whom she hadn't seen in days. "Wendy sure is lucky," a middle-aged woman whispered. "Her adoptive parents treat her like she's the apple of their eye. Mr. Pearce cares deeply about her too." "No kidding. I heard he personally organized this banquet! Look at that champagne. It's flown in from Bellevire, and a single bottle costs six figures." "Those flowers were airlifted from Lormont this morning. He even had the whole ballroom decorated like the Monet Garden, just because that's what Wendy likes. It must've cost a fortune." The guests' whispers blurred into a steady hum. Zoey took a sip of her drink and glanced at Yves, who was nearby. He was dressed in a black bespoke suit. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and exposed just a hint of his collarbone. There was a certain effortless elegance about him. However, at that moment, he, who was always so cold, was crouching down to fix Wendy's dress with a soft smile on his face. "Now, let's welcome Mr. and Mrs. Silvain to the stage to give their blessings to their beloved daughter!" As soon as the host's words fell, Bryant and Daphne walked onto the stage, arms linked with Wendy. Bryant cleared his throat and addressed the guests, saying, "Tonight, I'd like to make a very important announcement. Wendy will inherit 60% of our company's shares!" The room erupted in gasps while Zoey's grip on her glass tightened. Yves walked up to join them and pulled a velvet box from his pocket. He then opened it to reveal an antique emerald ring in it. "Isn't that the Pearce family's heirloom?" someone in the crowd exclaimed. "I heard it was left by Mrs. Pearce Senior for her eldest granddaughter-in-law!" "Holy moly, he's giving his family heirloom to his sister-in-law? That's basically a slap to his wife's face…" Yves gently slid the ring onto Wendy's finger. It fit perfectly. "Dad, Mom, Yves… is this really okay?" Wendy abruptly glanced at a corner of the banquet hall, her voice laced with uncertainty. "After all, Zoey's your biological daughter and the lady of the Pearce family. Shouldn't all of this… belong to her?" After hearing that, Bryant and Daphne hastily grabbed her hands. "What nonsense are you talking about? Zoey married well and has the Pearces behind her. Of course, we have to look out for you. "It's only right for us to give you these assets." Yves chimed in apathetically, "If it hadn't been for that accident, this ring would've been yours." Zoey stood frozen in the middle of the crowd, feeling like she'd just been stripped bare in front of everyone. Her parents' words stung like slaps while Yves' words felt like knives, carving cuts into her face. The guests stared at her with varying gazes—pity, amusement, and schadenfreude. Every look seemed to scream the same thing, "You poor thing." Zoey could even feel Wendy's smugness radiating from the stage, as if she was a winner showing off her trophy. Before, she probably would've been so heartbroken that she would've wanted to die. But now, she just felt calm. Zoey gently set her glass down. Then, when she turned on her heel, she heard someone whisper, "Look, her eyes are tearing up…" "She's probably going to cry in the restroom…" "Poor thing. Her parents and her husband both prefer her adopted sister." Zoey didn't falter and headed straight to the restroom. As she looked in the mirror, she saw her flawless makeup. Not to mention, there was not a single tear in her eyes. After all, she had forgotten everything. She had forgotten the years she'd begged for her parents' affection, the nights she'd craved Yves' love, and the countless times she'd thrown away her pride just to get them to look her way. The people she once revered now felt no different from strangers. All she had to do now was wait until her immigration papers were ready. Then, she'd learn how to love herself.