Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Elena: POV

Catherine came down the stairs with that practiced elegance she’d perfected over years of cotillion classes and finishing school. Her pink Chanel dress swished around her legs, and when she smiled, it was all teeth–sharp as knives.

“Julian, darling,” she purred, completely ignoring me. “It’s been ages. You look exhausted. Working too hard as usual, I suppose?

Her eyes flicked to me for just a second, and I saw the contempt there, barely veiled.

“Catherine. Julian’s voice was flat, his hand still resting on my lower back. “This is Elena. My wife.”

Catherine’s smile didn’t waver. “Oh, I know who she is.” She tilted her head, studying me like I was something fascinating under a microscope. “The girl who grew up in the servants‘ quarters. How… inspiring. A real Cinderella story.”

The jab was subtle but deliberate. I felt Julian’s hand tighten on my back.

“Watch your tone,” he said quietly, and there was steel beneath the words.

(Catherine’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I’m just saying it’s impressive. Not everyone could go from dusting the furniture to sleeping in the master bedroom.” She laughed, light and musical. “Though I suppose some things never change. You’re still… serving the family, aren’t you?”

Blood rushed to my face. My fingers curled into fists at my sides.

“Catherine Julian started, his voice dropping into that dangerous register I’d heard before.

But she waved him off, her attention already shifting. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hello. And to remind you, Julian–she’s waiting. You remember Victoria, don’t you? Your actual fiancée?” Her smile turned sympathetic, sickeningly sweet. “Poor thing’s been so patient. Three years in Paris, waiting for you to come to your senses.”

My stomach dropped. The name hung in the air between us like poison.

Victoria Astor. The woman Julian loved. The woman he’d been engaged to before everything went to hell.

Julian’s face went blank, that corporate mask sliding into place. “Victoria and I-”

“That’s enough.” Julian’s voice was ice. He glared at Catherine with an intensity that made her take a step back. You will speak about my wife with respect, or you won’t speak at all. Understood?”

I didn’t wait for his response. I turned and walked toward the hallway that led to the powder room, my flats padding softly against the marble, my heart hammering against my ribs.

But I didn’t make it.

A hand grabbed my wrist, yanking me sideways into a small alcove beneath the staircase–the same spot where I used to hide as a child, reading books I’d stolen from the library.

Catherine’s face was inches from mine, all pretense of sweetness gone. Her grip on my wrist was bruising.

“Let’s get something straight,” she hissed, her breath hot against my face. “You don’t belong here. You never did. And everyone in this house knows it.”

I tried to pull away, but she held firm. “Julian doesn’t love you. He never will. You’re just a placeholder, a warm body in his bed while the woman he actually wants is overseas.”

Her nails dug into my skin. “Victoria’s coming back. And when she does, he’s going to toss you aside like the trash you are. So if you have any self–respect left, you’ll walk away now. Save yourself the humiliation.”