Chapter 88

TAMMIE POV

I forced a smile, my lips curving upward even as my stomach churned. "That’s great, Mom," I said, my tone steady, though the words tasted bitter on my tongue.

She didn’t notice. She was too busy practically floating with joy, her excitement radiating through the room as she started straightening the cushions on the couch, humming softly to herself.

I watched her, my heart sinking. How could she be so happy? So oblivious? I wanted to scream, to shake her, to make her see what I saw…but I couldn’t. She was my mother, and she deserved to hold onto her joy, no matter how misplaced it was.

As she flitted about the room, my thoughts drifted back to Richard. My fiancé. My future husband. The man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.

How was I supposed to cope with that?

I bit my lip, the forced smile slipping away as memories flooded my mind. I’d been scrolling through my phone one night, idly flipping through social media posts, when the image appeared.

A disaster. That’s the only word I could think of to describe it.

There he was…Richard…lying in bed with Nadia, a well-known socialite whose name was always tangled in scandals. The photo wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t something I could brush off or excuse. It was clear as day.

I remembered the sinking feeling in my chest, the way my breath had caught in my throat. The way my fingers trembled as I stared at the screen, willing the image to disappear. But it didn’t.

It had spread like wildfire, shared and unshared by countless accounts. Everyone saw it. Everyone knew. And now, I was supposed to marry him?

But I wondered why I was feeling jealous after telling Richard that I wasn't marrying him for love.

I shook my head slightly, trying to push the memory away, but it clung to me like a shadow.

"Everything’s coming together so beautifully," my mother said, breaking into my thoughts. "You’re going to look like a queen in that dress, Tammie. Just you wait."

"Thanks, Mom," I murmured, forcing another weak smile.

She turned to me, her eyes bright with joy. "Aren’t you excited?"

"Of course," I lied, nodding.

She beamed at me, clearly satisfied with my response, and went back to her humming.

I watched her, my chest tightening. How was I supposed to live like this? Pretending everything was perfect when it was anything but?

I thought about Richard again, about the lies, the betrayal, the public humiliation. I didn’t want to marry him. I didn’t want to tie myself to someone I couldn’t trust.

But what choice did I have? The wedding was already planned. The invitations had been sent. The entire society was waiting for the big day, since my said to be father said no matter what the circumstances is.

My thoughts spiraled as I stood there, silent and still, while my mother bustled around the room. I felt trapped, caught in a web of expectations and appearances that I couldn’t escape from.

Suddenly, the sound of a car horn honking outside shattered my thoughts.

"They’re here!" my mother exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight.

I blinked, pulling myself out of my daze as I looked toward the window. The gate was opening, and Richard’s car was pulling into the driveway.

My heart sank again, but I straightened my posture, preparing myself for what was to come.

ALISHA POV

The car rolled to a stop, the gravel crunching under the tires as Richard pulled into the driveway of the sprawling Johnson mansion. My eyes widened slightly as I took in the sheer grandeur of the place.

Tall, imposing gates, a perfectly manicured lawn, and a mansion that seemed to stretch endlessly. It was the kind of home that belonged in glossy magazines, a testament to wealth and power.

Richard killed the engine and stepped out, his movements calm and composed, as though he’d done this a thousand times. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should follow, but when he turned to glance at me through the passenger window, I took it as my cue.

I opened the door and climbed out, my feet landing softly on the pristine driveway.

Almost immediately, a group of servants appeared from the side of the house, dressed impeccably and moving with practiced efficiency. They greeted Richard with polite bows and warm smiles.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Richard,” one of them said, his voice smooth and professional.

“Afternoon,” Richard replied, his tone clipped but polite. “Take the items in the trunk and deliver them inside. Handle them carefully…they’re for Tammie.”

“Yes, sir,” the servant replied. With a quick nod to his companions, they moved toward the car, opening the trunk and carefully lifting out the boxes and garment bags.

I stood off to the side, feeling out of place amidst the flurry of activity. The servants worked quickly, their movements efficient and precise.

It was clear they were accustomed to tasks like this, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t belong here.

Richard, however, was perfectly at ease. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed as he watched the servants work. He didn’t glance my way or offer any reassurance, but then again, I hadn’t expected him to.

Once the trunk was emptied, Richard gave a small nod of approval and started walking toward the mansion.

“Make sure everything is placed in the main sitting room,” he called over his shoulder to the servants.

“Yes, sir,” one of them replied.

I hesitated for a moment, watching as Richard strode toward the grand entrance of the mansion.

The large wooden doors loomed ahead, intricately carved and imposing. For a brief moment, I considered staying by the car, avoiding the awkwardness of following him inside.

But something pulled at me…curiosity, perhaps, or the strange pull of not wanting to be left behind. So, I took a deep breath and followed, my steps quickening to keep up with him.

The closer I got to the mansion, the more overwhelmed I felt. The air seemed heavier here, thick with the weight of wealth and status.

It was the kind of place where every detail screamed opulence, from the polished marble steps to the gilded handles on the doors.