Chapter 295
The once-buzzing ballroom fell into an abrupt hush. Heads turned in unison—men and women, young and old alike—all staring, eyes wide with astonishment.
Jamison slipped Ivy’s hand onto his arm as they entered, the two moving together in perfect harmony—a striking couple, the very picture of poise and beauty. He’d taken special care with his appearance that night, not for his own sake, but to be worthy of his Mrs. Ludwig, determined not to embarrass her on her first public appearance as his wife.
As he noticed every gaze in the room drifting their way, Jamison’s lips curved in a subtle, satisfied smile. His pride swelled; this was a moment of vindication.
He knew the rumors swirling about his whirlwind marriage to Ivy. Many in their social circle thought he’d picked up someone else’s castoff and tried to pass her off as a prize. But seeing the shock—and the growing admiration—on their faces, he was certain a few opinions were changing.
He could almost sense the envy and resentment brewing beneath the surface.
Across the room, Emma couldn’t tear her eyes away from Ivy. Ever since she’d learned of Ivy’s sudden marriage to Jamison, jealousy had burned inside her like an erupting volcano, threatening to destroy everything in its path.
Now, watching Ivy shine beside Jamison—more radiant and breathtaking than ever—Emma’s jealousy, anger, and frustration had grown beyond words. Ivy was dazzling, impossible to ignore, her beauty eclipsing even the memories of three years ago.
“God, Ivy really is stunning. Like something out of a fairy tale,” someone whispered. “No kidding. Every socialite here has had work done, but none of them can touch Ivy’s natural beauty.”
“It’s no wonder Mr. Jamison fell head over heels for her,” another said.
A third voice, harsh and dismissive, cut in: “Pretty faces fade. No one can outrun time. I still don’t get why Jamison would want someone who disappeared for three years, got sick, and already has a child.”
“Didn’t they clear that up? Ivy doesn’t have HIV,” someone replied.
“But she must’ve lost her innocence, right? Who knows how many men there were…”
“That… I really couldn’t say.”
Hearing the whispers, Emma felt a twisted sense of relief. Maybe Ivy’s looks had returned, but her reputation was forever tarnished. So, the past three years hadn’t been a complete waste after all.
She smirked to herself and refocused on scanning the crowd for her next target.
As Jamison led Ivy deeper into the hall, Leroy—the event’s host—hurried over, hand extended from a distance. “Mr. Jamison! What an honor to have you here. Truly, we’re delighted!”
Everyone knew that Jamison had carved out his own success in the world of medical research, refusing to rely on the Ludwig family fortune. Unlike the usual crowd of high-profile socialites, he kept a low profile and rarely attended these sorts of gatherings. Tonight, he’d shown up with his new wife, giving the event a distinct prestige.
No wonder Leroy was so eager and excited.
“Leroy, you’re too kind. Thank you for the invitation—it’s my pleasure.” Jamison shook his hand, then gestured to the woman on his arm. “This is my wife, Ivy.”
“Mrs. Jamison, welcome! So glad to have you,” Leroy said, immediately reaching out to shake Ivy’s hand.
She greeted him with a gentle smile as their hands briefly touched.
“The reception’s about to begin—” Leroy started, motioning them toward their seats, but suddenly someone sidled up beside him.
“Ivy! You made it. It’s been days since I last saw you—your mother’s missed you so much,” Rosetta gushed.
She’d been coaxed over by her husband, desperate to reestablish some connection. The Windsor family had lost their standing; they couldn’t afford to ignore any potential lifeline.
Rosetta’s words froze the scene. Leroy and the others glanced at her, their expressions a mix of discomfort and confusion.
They couldn’t just brush her off; after all, she was Ivy’s biological mother. But greeting her too warmly would be awkward—especially since Ivy’s face remained cold and indifferent, clearly uninterested in conversation.
After a brief, tense silence, Ivy offered a polite smile, her arm still looped through Jamison’s. “The reception’s about to start, isn’t it? We shouldn’t keep Leroy from his duties.”
Jamison nodded. “Let’s take our seats.”
Just as Ivy started to move, Rosetta, panicked, grabbed her hand. “Ivy, how can you see your own mother and not say hello? Your father’s here too, over there—maybe you and Jamison can come talk to us later?”
Rosetta’s only hope was to get her daughter and son-in-law to exchange a few words with them in front of so many witnesses. Maybe, just maybe, things could turn around for the Windsors.
She lowered her voice, pleading, “Please, Ivy. I’m begging you… When you came home before, Mr. Jamison promised he’d help us make some connections. Now the company’s in trouble… Your father and I—we have no one else to turn to…”
But Ivy had known she’d run into the Windsors tonight. The only reason the family had received an invitation was because Jamison had arranged it behind the scenes.
If anything, the Windsors weren’t using her; they were being played themselves.
So, sticking to the plan, Ivy fixed her mother with a steely look, but finally relented, offering a reply: “The reception’s about to start. Whatever you need, we’ll talk about it later.”
Rosetta’s face immediately softened with hope. “Of course, of course. We’ll talk later.”