The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 25

The week before the Valdris Gala was a special kind of torture. Elera felt like a ghost in her own home, drifting through rooms while her father buzzed with a frantic, proprietary energy. He had hired an event coordinator “to help her prepare,” a sleek woman named Genevieve who spoke in a whisper and treated Elera like a valuable but slightly dim–witted racehorse.

“Posture, darling,” Genevieve would murmur, a hand pressing between Elera’s shoulder blades as they practiced walking in the gala heels. “Think of a string pulling you up from the crown of your head. You want to look ethereal. Unreachable.”

I want to look like I’d rather be anywhere else, Elera thought, but she obeyed, gliding across the marble foyer with a vacant smile.

Xan’s attentions grew more suffocating. He sent bouquets so large they barely fit through the door- explosions of white roses and orchids, funereal and opulent. His texts were constant, a stream of possessive affection that felt less like love and more like a checklist being completed. Thinking of you. Can’t wait to see you in the dress. Everyone is so excited to meet my future wife.

Her only sanctuary was the stolen time for her other lives. She managed a midnight visit to her lab, running a critical simulation on the Chimera Protocol. The results were promising–a sixty–three percent probability of slowing the cellular degradation. It wasn’t a cure, but it was a foothold. A chance. She sent a heavily encrypted summary to Drakonius, along with a new, stricter dietary plan.

His reply was characteristically brief. Understood. Thank you.

There was no more talk of books or gardens. The looming public spectacle seemed to have pushed them back into their roles of doctor and patient, partners in a clinical pact. She told herself it was better this way. Cleaner.

But then, three days before the gala, something shifted.

She was in her father’s study, being force–fed trivia about Xan’s obscure European relatives by Genevieve, when her personal phone buzzed. It was a number she didn’t recognize, but the area code was Swiss.

A cold trickle of dread went down her spine. Lyra.

She excused herself, pleading a sudden headache, and fled to her room. In the privacy of her bathroom, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Don’t bother denying it,” Lyra Vex continued, her tone almost bored. “My brother is many things, but subtle in his desperation is not one of them. His sudden, intense interest in Nethys Medical was a beacon. And your digital ghost, Dr. Mystral, while impressive, has a pattern. A certain… elegance in your encryption. I’ve always had an eye for art, even in code.”

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