Chapter 3

Irene did not respond. She simply silently gathered the broken neck and fragments of the violin, carefully tucking them into her embrace as if performing some sacred ritual.

After a long silence, she lifted her head and offered Gabriel a desolate, distant smile. "It doesn't matter, Mr. Thorne."

With that, she turned and walked quickly upstairs, cradling the ruined instrument, leaving Gabriel frozen in place.

Mr. Thorne? Ever since she was brought to the Thorne home at age ten, Irene had always called him "Gabriel" or intimately "Gabe." No matter how many times he corrected her, she had stubbornly refused to use honorifics.

But now, she had changed it of her own accord, drawing a clear line with the most formal of titles.

Gabriel stood there, watching her slender back disappear around the corner of the stairs, an inexplicable irritability rising in his heart. It wasn't until Chloe tugged at his sleeve that he snapped back to reality.

"Gabriel, what's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

He quickly adjusted his emotions, returning to his usual steady tone. "It's nothing. Don't take what just happened to heart. Irene isn't bad by nature; she's just been spoiled by me over the years and is a bit emotional."

Chloe was stunned; she hadn't expected Gabriel to defend Irene. She nodded obediently, but a glint of jealousy and malice flashed in her eyes.

To regain his attention and control, Chloe wrapped her arms around his waist and wheedled, "Gabriel, can we have the wedding after my surgery? I can't wait to become Mrs. Thorne."

Gabriel’s gaze softened. He stroked her long hair indulgently and said, "Alright. Whatever you wish."

"Really? Then I want the grandest lawn wedding in Central Park!" she cheered.

……

In the days that followed, Irene shut herself in her room, barely venturing out except to go to the hospital for preoperative exams. She was busy organizing her luggage and processing all the documents for the "Aurora Project."

She left early and returned late; although they lived in the same massive manor, she never sought out Gabriel again.

One day, she walked toward the fireplace carrying a box of sketches she had once drawn of Gabriel. She had made up her mind to burn it all.

Just as she threw the last sketch into the flames, Gabriel’s stern voice rang out behind her: "What are you doing?"

Irene didn't look back, but he stormed over, catching a glimpse of the curling paper in the fire, where his profile was faintly visible. His face dark, he gripped her wrist tightly. "Irene, what game are you playing now? Do you think burning these things will get my attention? Do you find this amusing?"

Irene lowered her head and forcefully pulled her hand free, leaving a red mark on her wrist. "You're overthinking it, Mr. Thorne. I'm just clearing out trash."

But Gabriel seemed even more convinced this was another one of her little ploys for attention. He sneered and announced, "My wedding to Chloe is set for the beginning of next month. As a member of the Thorne family, you are also on the guest list."

The blood instantly drained from Irene’s face, but she forced a weak smile and said, "Congratulations."

By the beginning of next month, she would already be on a flight to the Middle East. It seemed she was destined to miss the wedding, but that was exactly what she wanted. She said nothing more and turned to leave.

As she reached the door, Gabriel called out to her again. "Chloe says a wedding happens only once in a lifetime. She doesn't trust a wedding planning company."

Irene didn't understand his implication and asked, "So?"

"So, I want you to assist in preparing the wedding. You studied design at art school, so your aesthetic should be fine. Furthermore, you grew up in this family; you know the preferences of our guests best." He commanded it as if it were a matter of course.