Chapter Eighty-Two: The Wife He Never Had
Chapter Eighty-Two: The Wife He Never Had
Silence.
It wasn’t merely the absence of sound.
It was the kind of silence that suffocated.
Hundreds of eyes shifted between Oliver and the woman standing at the center of the ballroom, as though everyone feared blinking would cause them to miss the truth.
“…he’s already married.”
The words lingered in the air like smoke after an explosion.
Camera shutters erupted first.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Within seconds, journalists abandoned every ounce of professionalism they possessed.
“Mr. Haywood!”
“Is her claim true?”
“Who is she?”
“Were you hiding a marriage?”
“Miss Reed, did you know about this?”
Security hurried toward the woman, but she calmly raised a hand.
“I’m not here to cause a scene,” she said evenly. “I’m here because this conversation should have happened a long time ago.”
Nuella’s heartbeat pounded in her ears.
She looked at Oliver.
His expression wasn’t one of guilt.
It was something far more unsettling.
Shock.
Pure, unfiltered shock.
He looked as though he’d seen a ghost.
“Oliver…”
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
He still didn’t answer.
His eyes never left the woman.
Then, quietly…
“…Sophia?”
The name escaped his lips before he could stop it.
A murmur swept through the ballroom.
“So he knows her.”
“I told you.”
“This is unbelievable.”
Nuella’s fingers curled into trembling fists.
He knew her.
Of course he knew her.
The question was… how?
Sophia smiled faintly, though sadness clouded her eyes.
“It’s been a long time.”
Oliver slowly descended the stage.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low enough that only those closest could hear.
“I came because I heard you were planning another beginning.”
His jaw tightened.
“You shouldn’t have.”
“No?”
Her gaze drifted briefly toward Nuella before returning to him.
“You were going to marry someone without telling her about me.”
“I never married you.”
The words landed sharply.
Sophia didn’t flinch.
“No.”
She nodded.
“You didn’t.”
The crowd exchanged confused glances.
Oliver’s breathing steadied just enough for him to continue.
“But everyone deserves the truth.”
He turned toward the audience.
Then toward Nuella.
Finally, back to Sophia.
“You’ve told them the first half.”
His eyes hardened.
“I’ll tell them the second.”
Sophia lowered her gaze.
Oliver drew a long breath.
“Years ago, my father arranged an engagement between Sophia and me.”
Gasps rippled through the room.
“It wasn’t a relationship.”
“It was a business agreement.”
“Our families intended to merge two empires.”
Nuella listened carefully, refusing to interrupt.
“I never loved Sophia.”
Oliver continued.
“And before any marriage ever took place…”
“…I ended it.”
The room grew quiet once more.
Sophia closed her eyes.
“You ended the engagement.”
“Yes.”
“But you never ended what your father did afterward.”
Oliver froze.
Those words struck him harder than the accusation itself.
“What do you mean?”
For the first time since entering the ballroom…
Sophia’s composure cracked.
A tear escaped.
“Your father didn’t accept your decision.”
She swallowed.
“He forged documents.”
Oliver’s face drained of color.
“He registered a marriage that never happened.”
The room erupted again.
Nuella stared at Oliver.
Journalists shouted over one another.
“What?”
“That’s impossible!”
“Are you saying there are fraudulent marriage records?”
Oliver could barely hear them.
His father’s voice echoed through memories he’d spent years trying to bury.
“Control the narrative before anyone else can.”
His chest tightened.
No…
Even after death…
Richard Haywood had found another way to haunt him.
And if Sophia was telling the truth…
Then someone had spent years believing she was legally bound to a man who never chose her.