𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

22.

As I move to step out of the sleek car, my gaze catches on Mr. Lozero, standing by the gate. His expression is conflicted—torn between protecting his daughter from a man he knows doesn’t love her and the promise of expanding his already sprawling business empire.

Greed binds us all.

I give him a moment, waiting to see if he'll offer any words of caution—something to shield his precious daughter—but I already know the answer. You don’t rise to power by nurturing everyone’s feelings; you get there by being ruthless. And, not to boast, but I understand that better than most.

When Mr. Lozero—this body's father—gives me a small, polite smile without a word, I can’t say I’m shocked. Maybe the original Faye would’ve felt betrayed, but I expected this. If Papa Lozero had truly cared for his daughter, she wouldn’t have met her end in a conveniently orchestrated car accident in the original story. And Wilde, as the mastermind behind it, wouldn’t have walked away untouched. Perhaps Mr. Lozero had been threatened by villain-sama, but that hardly excuses his silence.

We walk down the cobbled pathway in silence, our expressions calm and composed, but beneath the surface, I know we’re both scheming like seasoned foxes, each carefully plotting the next move.

Inside, the drawing room exudes quiet opulence. The polished hardwood floors gleam under the light of a grand chandelier, its crystals catching the soft sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Heavy velvet curtains frame the walls, complementing the subtle luxury of the furniture. The room is an understated display of wealth, the kind that whispers rather than shouts.

Seated comfortably in one of the plush armchairs, my mother—this body's mother—looks every bit the part of a matriarch, draped in an exquisitely tailored suit from Lurielle Couture, a high-end label known only to those who inhabit this echelon of society. Her expression is poised, her lips curved into a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes as she speaks to the Timewell father and son duo, who occupy the matching armchairs across from her. The elder Timewell is dressed in a perfectly tailored gray suit, his posture as stiff and formal as his reputation, while his son mirrors his refinement, though with a more modern edge in a sleek navy ensemble.

In the few days I’ve been in this world, I’ve barely glimpsed this body’s mother. But seeing her now, seated in this room, effortlessly holding court, I realize she’s far more formidable than her absence had suggested. Behind that perfect facade lies the same cold, calculating mind that governs everyone in this world.

Ironically, Papa Lozero and Mama Lozero’s marriage wasn’t the arranged affair one might expect from a family as steeped in old money and tradition as theirs. In fact, the original Faye’s grandfather had already arranged a marriage for Papa Lozero that would have greatly expanded the family’s business empire—a common strategy in families like theirs, where alliances are valued more than affection. But there was one complication: Papa Lozero had already fallen for Mama Lozero, a woman from a family that, by comparison, could only be described as "lower class."

Naturally, his entire family was against the match. Papa Lozero, however, was not a man easily swayed. Stubborn to a fault, he spent five long years elevating Mama Lozero’s family, pulling strings, making connections, and acquiring wealth on their behalf until they were finally deemed worthy by his father’s high standards. Only then, after years of painstaking work, was the marriage allowed. And when they finally wed, it was with all the grandeur and opulence expected of a Lozero wedding.

But those five years? They were anything but smooth. Behind the scenes, Grandfather Lozero was quietly furious. His eldest son’s defiance couldn’t go unpunished, not when a perfectly beneficial match had been planned. And so, the bride who was meant for Papa Lozero? She was given to his younger brother instead.