Blair returned to her bedroom and peeled off her clothes to take a bath. Stepping into the bath, she let out a quiet, trembling gasp as the heat enveloped her tired body.
It had been so long since she had felt hot water. In that cramped, leaky apartment with Jason, hot water had been a luxury they couldn’t afford. She had spent two years washing herself with freezing tap water, shivering through the harsh winters just to save a few pennies for his food and supplements.
What did she get in return? Abandonment.
Blair had learned a valuable lesson that day. Expect a lot, and you end up with grave disappointment. Expect nothing at all, and nothing hurts you anymore—even betrayal wouldn’t hurt a thing.
She had expected a lot. From the parents that had taken her in, from the brothers who once loved her and promised to always protect her, from the beast she saved and offered her everything to... All of it... She expected way too much from them.
As the steam rose around her, soaking into her pale skin, the dam inside her chest finally broke.
Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, dripping into the warm bathwater. She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them as a silent, shuddering sob escaped her lips.
She knew her place. She wasn’t trying to be accepted. She knew she was just a wife in name—a temporary placeholder brought in to solve a corporate problem. But she wanted so desperately to be useful. She wanted to prove her worth, to care for these broken men, and to do her absolute best so she wouldn’t be thrown away into the cold streets again.
As the warm water cradled her, a sharp, bitter memory flashed unbidden behind her closed eyelids:
Standing on the grand marble steps of the Cross estate in the pouring rain, watching her adopted mother look down at her with total disgust.
"Only people who have use are kept around," the cold, aristocratic voice echoed in her mind. "If you’re useless, no one will want you. And right now, you are completely useless to this family. The Cross family doesn’t need a useless thing like you."
The memory cut straight through her heart like a rusted blade, making her chest ache with phantom pain.
Blair pursed her lips tightly, forcing her tears to stop. She wiped her eyes with her wet hands, taking a deep, steadying breath of the warm steam.
They were wrong. Jason was wrong, her adopted parents were wrong, and she was done letting their words define her existence.
She looked at her small, calloused hands resting above the water. The Heart Capital System had given her a second chance—a chance where her currency wasn’t power, status, or high-tier genetics, but simply her ability to care.
And... She was grateful.
The next morning, Blair woke up before the sun had fully cleared the horizon.
Her stomach gave a quiet, hollow rumble as she sat up on the edge of the massive bed. She realized then that in all her nervousness and hectic cooking the night before, the only thing she had eaten was a tiny crust of bread while prepping the broth.
Maybe I can cook a little something for myself this morning after preparing their breakfast, she thought, rubbing her eyes.
She was ready to jump into her new routine—ready to cook, to clean, and to prove her worth as a useful wife. But as she hurried down the floating staircase into the main hall, her steps faltered.
It was barely a few minutes past six in the morning, yet all three Deruno brothers were already gathered near the grand dining foyer, fully dressed in tailored morning coats and pristine suits.
Why are they up so early? Blair thought, panic surging through her chest. Oh no... did I oversleep?
The moment her soft footsteps echoed on the marble stairs, all three pairs of eyes fell on her.
Philippe sat in his wheelchair, his dark eyes tracking her movement. Lukas leaned against the counter, his white fox ears twitching slightly in the quiet air. Sebastian stood near the center with his usual immaculate posture.
Their sharp, predatory gazes lingered on her for a split second before looking away just as quickly.
"Thomas," Sebastian called out smoothly, his tone polite yet carrying a distinct edge. "Why is the lady of the house still wearing the same clothes she arrived in yesterday?"
Blair froze, her pale hands instinctively clutching the faded fabric of her simple skirt.
She had seen the massive walk-in closet in her suite the previous night—filled with rows of elegant, high-grade dresses made of pure silk and soft wool. But she hadn’t dared to touch a single piece. In her mind, she was just a temporary placeholder. Rushing to wear their expensive garments felt arrogant, as if she were taking advantage of their wealth.
She had chosen to wear her own thin rags to show she wasn’t greedy, but it seemed she had misunderstood completely.
Butler Thomas stepped forward, bowing respectfully without making excuses. "I apologize, Master. It seems I forgot to mention to Mrs. Deruno that her clothes were prepared in the wardrobe."
"No... I..." Blair cut in timidly, her voice small as the three men looked back at her. "I saw them already."
Lukas tilted his head, his brow furrowing as his golden eyes scanned her worn-out shirt. "Then why aren’t you wearing them? Did you think they were just put there for decoration? You are Mrs. Deruno now. Make sure you look the part, or it will affect our family’s reputation."
Blair’s fingers tightened on her shirt until her knuckles turned white.
Our reputation...
The truth hit her like a cold splash of water. To high-status purebloods, letting their legal wife walk around in thin, faded rags didn’t make her look humble—it made them look negligent and cruel to the outside world.
She was accidentally dragging down the very image they needed her to maintain.
Grief and embarrassment burned behind her eyes, and she bowed her head deeply, her voice trembling. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry. I will go change right away."
"Hey."
Philippe’s low, resonant voice cut through the air, making Blair flinch violently. She froze mid-step, her body tensing as if expecting a blow or a harsh insult.