Chapter 87

RICHARD POV.

"Have a nice day, Richard." Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and ascended the staircase, her movements brisk and purposeful.

I watched her retreating figure, the sound of her footsteps fading as she disappeared upstairs. The tension in the room lingered, but I shook it off, pulling my phone from my pocket.

I scrolled through my contacts and pressed the call button when I found the name I was looking for. The phone rang twice before a cheerful voice answered.

"Richard! What a surprise," Mrs. Daniella, Tammie’s mother, greeted warmly. "How are you, dear?"

"I’m doing well, Mrs. Daniella," I replied, forcing a polite tone. "I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be coming over shortly to drop off some items for Tammie…the bridal wear and a few other things my mother prepared."

"Oh, that’s wonderful!" she exclaimed, her excitement evident. "Tammie will be so thrilled to see you, even if it’s just for a moment. You’ve been so busy lately, but I understand, wedding preparations can be overwhelming."

"Yes, they’ve kept me occupied," I said, though my enthusiasm didn’t quite match hers. "I’ll be there soon."

"Take your time, dear. We’ll be here," she said, her voice brimming with joy.

I ended the call and slipped my phone back into my pocket. Turning to the servants who stood nearby, I gave them a nod. "Take all the items…bridal wear, groom’s clothing, and the jewelry my mother prepared…to my car. Be careful with them."

"Yes, sir," one of them replied, and they quickly got to work, gathering the neatly packed boxes and garment bags.

As they moved past us, Alisha’s curiosity seemed to get the better of her. She stepped closer, her eyes wide with interest. "Richard," she began hesitantly, "is it true? Are we going to the Johnson mansion?"

I paused, surprised by her question. "Yes," I said, turning to face her.

But then I stopped abruptly, my brow furrowing as I looked at her more closely. Something about her tone and the way she asked the question struck me as odd.

Alisha seemed to realize it too, her expression shifting as she avoided my gaze. Her hand rose instinctively to her temple, brushing against the bandages there. It was as if a sudden realization had dawned on both of us at the same time.

And then it clicked. My eyes widened slightly as I stared at her, the pieces falling into place. Alisha’s lips parted as though to speak, but no words came out. She looked at me with a mix of guilt and understanding, as though she knew exactly why I was looking at her that way.

The silence between us was thick, charged with unspoken questions and suspicions.

ALISHA POV

"How do you know about the Johnsons?" Richard’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, his sharp gaze fixed on me.

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I felt my heart slam against my chest. I looked up at him, feigning confusion, but his expression told me he wasn’t going to let the question slide.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to sound innocent.

"You just said their name," he replied, his voice low and steady.

"You asked if we were going to the Johnson mansion. How do you know about them, Alisha? The nurses told me you don’t remember anything about yourself or your past."

I froze. My mind raced, every thought colliding into the next as I scrambled for an explanation. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I forced myself to remain calm. Think, Alisha. Think fast.

"Oh," I said suddenly, forcing a small laugh as if I’d just remembered something obvious. "I saw their name in your office."

His brows furrowed slightly. "My office?"

"Yes," I nodded quickly, grasping at the lie. "There was a newspaper on your desk. I must’ve picked it up when you stepped out earlier. It had an article about Mr. Johnson…something about him being one of the wealthiest men in the society."

Richard’s eyes searched mine, his expression unreadable. I could feel his skepticism, but I kept my face neutral, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

"You saw a newspaper," he repeated, his tone more measured now.

"Yes," I said again, my voice firm this time. "It was just a glance, really. The name stuck with me because... well, it’s not every day you see articles about people that wealthy."

For a moment, Richard said nothing. He just looked at me, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to peel back the layers of my explanation.

I swallowed hard, keeping my expression steady, even though my palms had begun to sweat.

Finally, he nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Alright," he said simply.

I exhaled quietly, relief flooding through me, though I didn’t let it show. I followed him as he turned and walked toward the car, the conversation seemingly dropped.

The servants were just finishing loading the last of the boxes into the trunk. Richard gave them a quick nod of approval before opening the driver’s side door.

He gestured for me to get in the passenger seat, and I obliged, slipping into the car without a word.

As we drove out of the compound, the tension between us lingered, unspoken but palpable. I kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead, my mind still reeling from the close call.

I couldn’t help but wonder if Richard truly believed me…or if he was simply letting it go for now.

“Tammie, come here, darling!” my mother’s cheerful voice rang out from the sitting room. I reluctantly set down the magazine I’d been pretending to read and walked toward her, masking my reluctance with a polite smile.

“Yes, Mom?” I asked, my voice light, though my chest felt heavy.

She turned to me, her face practically glowing with excitement. "Guess who’s on his way?"

I already knew the answer but played along. "Who?"

"Richard, of course!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

"He’s bringing all the wedding items…the dress, the shoes, the jewelry, everything! Isn’t that wonderful?"