Paper Promise: The Substitute Bride - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

At dinner, it was just me and James’ mother at that immense table. The silence was broken only by the clinking of silverware against porcelain. Five empty seats separated us, a calculated distance that seemed to say more than words.
“I’ll have to settle for your company,” she said irritably. It wasn’t an observation, but an accusation.
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the contempt she felt for me. She hated being in my company and showed it at every moment.
“It will be a pleasure,” I replied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
I can’t show weakness. I can’t let her see how her words affect me.
Catherine arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, a cold smile forming on her thin lips.
“I’m sure it will,” she replied, gesturing for the butler to serve the wine. “We have white truffles for dinner. Imported from Alba this morning.” She paused, her ice-blue eyes analyzing my reaction like a scientist observing a test subject. “I heard your father’s financial situation is quite precarious lately.”
The rich aroma of the truffles reached my nose, intense and earthy. Luxurious. Extravagant.
Looking at all that luxury, I remembered that just three weeks ago, I was curled up in the small kitchen at my father’s house, blowing on overheated instant noodles while hearing his and Eva’s laughter coming from the dining room. The smell of grilled salmon seeped under the closed door that separated me from them. “We don’t want to bother you with business talk, dear,” my father told me, but we both knew the truth. Eva didn’t want to share the good food with me.
“My father is having financial problems, but I believe he’ll recover.”
I took a sip of wine to calm myself.
“With the money James gave him, your father should have paid off all the creditors and banks.”
Catherine took a long sip of her wine, her cold eyes never leaving mine.
Something about the way she emphasized the last words made my stomach tighten. There was a subtext there, information I didn’t have. The feeling of being the only ignorant person in the room was suffocating.
“Ma’am, I’ve never understood what kind of business my father has with your family.”
Catherine slowly set down her glass and looked at me for a long time. Eagle eyes stalking their prey.
“We have some rules in this house, and we don’t talk about business at the dinner table.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, feeling the heat rise from my neck to my cheeks.
My hands trembled slightly as I tried to cut a piece of what seemed to be veal. The fork slipped from my fingers, clinking against the porcelain with a sound that seemed to echo like thunder in that vast silence. Catherine watched my struggle with barely disguised satisfaction.
I took a deep breath, trying to regain some dignity.
“Does James always come home late? I hardly see him.”
Catherine’s face hardened, her aristocratic features freezing into an expression that wasn’t exactly anger, but something more calculated. More dangerous.
“Eat your food before it gets cold,” she ordered, cutting her own meat with the precision of a surgeon. “And stop talking.”
The silence that followed was almost physical, a weight on my shoulders. I lowered my eyes to the plate, where the precious white truffles adorned the meal like expensive jewels.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered reflexively, a word that had become my shield since childhood.
Catherine placed her utensils down with such a deliberate movement that it almost made me flinch. She slowly lifted her gaze until it met mine. There was something different now — an evaluation, a decision being made.
“Stop apologizing,” she said, her voice unexpectedly softer but no less authoritative. She leaned slightly forward, the on her neck catching the chandelier’s light. “You’re a Reynolds now.”diamonds
Those words weren’t a compliment but a sentence that lingered between us. I understood then that it wasn’t just a statement, but a warning. A reminder that I had crossed into a world with its own rules, its own secrets. A world where my maiden name was a weakness that needed to be erased.
I straightened my posture instinctively, feeling the weight of the surname I now carried. I picked up my utensils with renewed determination and cut a perfect piece of meat, keeping my movements controlled and precise, as I had observed Catherine do.
“I have a terrible headache,” Catherine announced abruptly, standing up. “I’m going to my room.” She didn’t wait for a response, just left.
I finished dinner alone.
The house seemed even bigger, emptier. I didn’t want to go to my room, so I went to the library—but this time, I went to the library on the first floor.
There were so many books and family portraits. I started reading and ended up falling asleep on the couch, waking to the sound of things falling and laughter.
It was James. He was drunk and clinging to his secretary. She looked stunning in a provocative black dress. Her lips, painted a bright red, were smudged at the corners—traces of recent kisses.
“Are you okay?” I asked, worried.
James turned abruptly, surprised by my presence. His normally calculating and controlled gaze was clouded by alcohol, but the disdain in his expression was obvious.
“What are you doing here?” he asked harshly.
“I… I was reading in the library and woke up from the noise.”
A cruel smirk appeared on his face. “Then go back to reading your romance novels and leave me alone.”
“You’ve had too much to drink. I’ll make some tea for you.”
“Laura, don’t act like you’re my wife, because you’re not.”
She giggled, her eyes scanning my figure with a mix of pity and satisfaction.
“James, darling, let’s go to the bedroom,” she said, pulling him by the hand.
I stood there, watching my husband go upstairs with another woman to his bedroom.
You’re a Reynolds now, I heard Catherine’s voice in my mind.