The Tycoon's Secret Wife's Escape novel Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Two months later…

“Thank you so much for giving my designs a chance, Joanne!” I said warmly, shaking hands with the woman seated across from me.

She looked to be in her fifties or older, her aura radiating years of experience in the industry. Joanne had been a figure I admired for as long as I could remember, and becoming one of her designers had always been a dream.

On her desk, right in front of us, lay the ten jewelry designs I had painstakingly brought to life.

“As I’ve mentioned, save your thanks until your jewelry line proves successful,” she said warmly. “We’ll start by featuring these ten designs in the auction while we explore a potential partnership to secure funding.”

“Still, I’m grateful,” I replied sincerely.

“Be at the auction, Isabella,” she continued. “It’s more than just a sale–it’s your opportunity to meet potential business partners and promote your brand.”

“Can I invite a few friends to the event?” I asked, already considering who could help bring my vision to life–Evan or perhaps Lucas, both with the resources to make it happen.

“Of course. Just have their details sent to my secretary for the invitations.”

I thanked her again and began to rise from my seat when her voice stopped me. Her green eyes shifted briefly, landing on my neck.

“That necklace you’re wearing,” Joanne remarked. “It’s one of the pieces we made years ago. I actually knew the designer.”

“Really?” My fingers instinctively reached for the pendant, brushing against its familiar texture. “It must be similar to . something else. This was my grandmother’s before she passed it down to me.”

“Your grandmother?” Joanne’s tone sharpened slightly, her curiosity evident. “She owned it?”

I nodded. That was the story I’d always known. My grandmother had told me to take care of the necklace, emphasizing its importance. I assumed she had acquired it in her youth, though I knew little about its history.

“She gave this to me on my tenth birthday.” The memory surfaced clearly.

“May I take a look?” Joanne asked, but almost immediately, she pulled back. “Sorry, that was rude of me. I didn’t mean to cross a personal boundary.”

“No, it’s okay,” I assured her, feeling no harm in letting her examine it. I didn’t want to seem guarded over something as simple as a necklace. With a slight hesitation, I unclasped it and placed it in her waiting hands.

Her fingers trembled as she studied it before returning it to me.

“I can’t be mistaken,” she murmured. “A dear friend of mine designed this piece–she was its original owner.”

Her confident tone caught my attention. Joanne wasn’t one to say things without reason. It had to be my grandmoth was talking about.

“Is your friend from North Carolina too? From the Jones family?” I asked carefully.

Joanne’s gaze lingered on mine, heavy with something I couldn’t name.

“Yes,” she finally said.

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Chapter 77

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“It’s probably my grandmother, I replied with a tentative smile. “She’s turning eighty soon, and I’m planning to visit her mansion this Christmas for her birthday celebration. Maybe you could join us.”

But Joanne’s face went pale,

“My friend…” She swallowed hard, grief shadowing her features. “She passed away more than twenty years ago”

The smile slipped from my face as her words settled in the air.

“I–I’m so sorry,” I stammered, suddenly aware of how careless I’d been. My confusion deepened as I tried to piece together her reaction, “Can I ask you something else? What was your friend’s name?”

“Bella Jones,”

The name echoed in my mind.

“Do you know her?” Joanne asked,

I shook my head slowly. “There’s no Bella Jones in the family.”

A strange chill coursed through me as the name lingered. ‘Bella… Isabella…

Wasn’t that name too close to mine?

“How could that be?” Joanne whispered.

I had the same question.

“Let’s put this behind us,” Joanne said quickly, her earlier warmth replaced by obvious discomfort. “Thank you for coming, Isabella! I’ll see you at the auction,”

As I left, my mind kept returning to the mystery–the connection between my grandmother, the necklace, and Bella Jones felt too important to ignore. I couldn’t remember any relatives who had passed away, but there had to be an explanation.

Maybe Bella Jones was a forgotten family member, lost to time, or kept hidden purposefully.

Before leaving the building, I tightened my winter trench coat around me, thankful that its thick fabric helped hide my seven–month pregnancy. My baby, little Cassie, had been kind to me so far, giving me no trouble.

I walked to the train station, my mind still heavy with the mystery of Bella Jones. Who was she, really? How was she connected to my family?