He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 204

July 12, 2026.

A fierce storm was brewing.

Ottilie arrived at the legendary Empyrean for the first time.

It was an ultra-luxury residential community developed by Jevon Crawford.

Even from the outside, its stunning, serene architecture was visible.

As their car pulled up to the gates, a young security guard in a crisply ironed uniform jogged over.

Bowing to the driver's side with a bright smile.

The window rolled down. "I'm Lachlan Schmidt," he announced. "I'm here to visit Mr. Fordham."

"Good day, Mr. Schmidt," the guard said respectfully. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"I apologize, but per protocol, we cannot announce unannounced guests. Please call Mr. Fordham yourself. Once he confirms, we'll let you right through."

Lachlan glanced at Ottilie in the rearview mirror. "Ms. Sewell is here to visit him. You won't announce her either?"

The guard's face drained of color, and he immediately waved them off.

"I'm sorry, but anyone else is negotiable. If a Sewell is here, access is strictly denied. Please leave immediately, or we will have to resort to force."

Another guard, seeing the holdup, walked over.

"What's the issue?"

"It's someone named Sewell looking for Mr. Fordham."

"Then kick them out! The VIP inside specifically ordered: no Sewells and no dogs allowed."

Sitting in the back seat, Ottilie listened to their exchange with numb detachment.

She let out a self-deprecating chuckle and murmured, "The VIP thinks too highly of me. In Yorath's eyes, I don't even rank as high as a dog."

She rolled down her window. The gale-force wind whipped icy rain through the gap, stinging her face like shards of glass.

She flashed the guards a polite smile.

"I apologize for holding you up, gentlemen. I'll call him right now. If he won't see me, I'll leave immediately."

Justina stepped out from the passenger seat, discreetly handing each guard a pack of premium cigarettes.

Pocketing the perks, the guards instantly softened. "Take your time, Ms. Sewell."

Only elites lived here, meaning the security staff had to be exceedingly perceptive.

Gripping her phone, Ottilie stared blankly at The Empyrean's majestic, imposing gates.

It was a carbon copy of three years ago, when she had stood outside his office tower begging for an audience.

Her answer back then had been a pair of handcuffs.

Two entirely different social classes, worlds apart.

If Yorath didn't want to see her, she didn't even have the fundamental right to look at him.

Where on earth had she found the delusion to believe he loved her?

"Let's go. Head back," she said quietly.

"Mhm." Lachlan knew full well that Ottilie's betrayal had landed her on the Fordhams' blacklist. There was zero chance she'd get an audience.

He had only brought her here so she could face reality and give up hope.

He needed her to understand that her only remaining safety net was him.

They needed to be a united front against Yorath.

After spending so many years by the lawyer's side, she absolutely had to have some dirt on him.

If Lachlan's guess was correct, Yorath had locked Ottilie in St. Dymphna's years ago because he was planning to enter politics and needed a clean break from her.