Chapter 3We Parted When The Bellflowers Bloomed

That afternoon, I lost my mind, smashing every object in the bedroom.

But Nolan didn't show the panic or remorse I had expected. Instead, his eyes held a flicker of irritation at being interrupted.

"Giselle, just be sensible for once and try to understand my position."

"Do you have any idea how much pressure our families are putting on us? If I give Yvonne a title, all our problems disappear."

"But you are the only one I truly love. Once we are married, we can still be together just like before. Isn't that enough?"

I refused to accept his terms, causing a massive scene and taking the matter directly to my parents, foolishly believing they would stand up for me.

But my father simply delivered a heavy slap across my face in front of all the household staff.

"Screaming like a common street harlot over a man? Is this how we raised you?"

"Yvonne is the rightful bride of his family. As her older sister, you should be stepping aside, not trying to ruin her happiness."

To teach me a lesson, Nolan and my parents agreed to lock me away in a remote villa in the suburbs.

The weight of their betrayal kept me awake night after night. I began to lose my grip on reality, wondering if I really did owe Yvonne everything. I had lived her comfortable life for twenty years, so perhaps returning Nolan to her was simply balanced justice.

One evening, they arrived at the villa.

From my locked room, I was forced to listen to them together through the thin wall. During the night, Yvonne accidentally knocked over a scented candle. By the time I realized what was happening, the room was already filled with thick, suffocating smoke.

With his clothes in disarray, Nolan cradled a terrified Yvonne in his arms and rushed out of the burning building.

I was left behind in the flames. No one had realized I was still inside.

By the time the firefighters pulled me out, my face was entirely destroyed, and my vocal cords were severely damaged by the smoke.

When I woke up, I was lying in a private sanitarium. My head was wrapped in thick bandages, and the doctors prepared me for extensive reconstructive surgery.

Before I was taken to the operating room, I heard Yvonne instructing the surgeon. She told him there was no need to preserve my original features, suggesting they make me look as plain as possible.

The brilliant, beautiful Giselle was reduced to a faceless ghost.

I could no longer model, and I could barely care for myself. My career, my love, and my future had been systematically erased.

On the day the bandages were removed, it took me thirty minutes to find the courage to look in the mirror. Fortunately, the surgeon had been kind, refusing her cruel instructions and leaving me with a simple, ordinary face.

My parents, terrified I would cause more trouble, confiscated all my electronic devices and left me with an old flip phone that could barely access basic web pages.

Even then, a foolish part of me believed Nolan would search for me. We had grown up together, sharing over a decade of memories. He knew I was in that villa.

Every day, despite the pain in my scarred fingers, I searched his name.

Nolan. Giselle. Fire. Missing.

On the first day, there was nothing.

On the fifth day, only stock updates for his family's group.

On the tenth day, still nothing.

Finally, after two weeks, his name appeared across every major entertainment site.

The alliance of two great families. Nolan purchases a flawless pink diamond for his fiancée, Yvonne, as their wedding date approaches.

The photos showed Nolan in a tailored suit, looking down at Yvonne with a tender expression, a massive diamond gleaming on her ring finger.

My hand shook, and the cheap phone slipped from my fingers, shattering against the linoleum floor. The last spark of hope in my heart went out.

That same month, I discovered I was pregnant.

Yvonne arrived at the sanitarium the moment she received the medical report. She looked down at me with absolute victory.

"Giselle, Nolan is marrying me next month."

"From the moment we told him you died in the fire to the day he agreed to marry me, it only took him two weeks."

She let out a soft laugh. "Your ten years together couldn't even stand against my two weeks."

She tossed a document renouncing my inheritance and a falsified death certificate onto my lap.

"Sign these, take your bastard child, and disappear forever. Don't try any tricks. Making a real death certificate for you would be incredibly easy."

I felt no anger, only a hollow silence. I took the pen and signed my name.

On that day, the old Giselle truly died in the ashes of that fire.