Chapter 35: Falling

Mrs. Zhou leads me toward the terrace where a small group has gathered near the tall windows overlooking the gardens.

Six people total, including me now.

She gestures to each of them as we approach. "Young Master Wuchen, let me introduce you, this is Mrs. Lin, Mrs. Zhao, Mr. Kim, and Mr. Wei."

They all turn to look at me with varying degrees of interest.

Mrs. Lin and Mrs. Zhao are both in their late twenties, dressed impeccably, their smiles are polite but don’t reach their eyes. There’s a coolness there, a distance that feels deliberate.

Mr. Kim and Mr. Wei, on the other hand, look far too eager. They’re both omegas, roughly my age, and the way they’re studying me feels less like judgment and more like fascination.

"It’s lovely to meet you all," I say with that practiced smile.

Mrs. Lin nods politely. "Congratulations on your marriage."

"Thank you."

"Quite the ceremony," Mrs. Zhao adds, her tone perfectly neutral. "Very... elegant."

The pause before "elegant" tells me everything I need to know about what she really thinks.

They believe the rumors, the scheming homewrecker who trapped a Wuchen heir, and they’re not interested in hearing otherwise.

Fine.

Mr. Kim, however, leans forward slightly, eyes bright with curiosity. "You have to tell us how you did it."

I blink. "Did what?"

"How you caught Mr Bael’s attention," Mr. Wei supplies eagerly. "Everyone’s been talking about it. One moment he was engaged to your sister, the next you’re married to him instead. It’s like something out of a drama."

Oh.

They think I orchestrated this.

"I mean," Mr. Kim continues quickly, "Mr Bael has always been so... untouchable. And then suddenly he’s married to you, there has to be a secret, right? Some tactic you used?"

Mrs. Zhou clears her throat gently, clearly trying to redirect the conversation, but I wave her off.

It’s fine.

I’ve dealt with worse questions tonight.

"There’s no secret," I say lightly. "I’m just very beautiful, that’s all."

The response hangs in the air for a second.

Then Mr. Wei laughs, delighted. "Oh, I like him."

"He’s not wrong," Mr. Kim adds, looking me over appraisingly. "You really are stunning. No wonder Mr Bael couldn’t resist."

Mrs. Lin makes a small sound that might be disapproval, but she doesn’t say anything.

Mrs. Zhao just takes a sip of her champagne, her expression unchanged.

They don’t like me.

That’s clear enough.

But they’re not going to cause a scene, so I suppose that’s something.

The conversation shifts after that. Mr. Kim starts talking about an upcoming charity gala, Mr. Wei mentions a new restaurant that just opened downtown. Mrs. Zhou asks about someone’s recent vacation.

I participate when appropriate, smile when expected, and let the words wash over me without really absorbing them.

This is what my life is now.

Standing in circles with people who either hate me or want to dissect how I "seduced" my way into the Wuchen family.

I’m reaching for a glass of water from a passing server’s tray when something slams into me from behind.

Hard.

So hard that I’m knocked forward, stumbling, my balance completely gone.

I hit the ground.

Pain shoots through my knees and palms as I catch myself, and immediately a wave of dizziness crashes over me. The world tilts, sounds blur together.

I hear screaming.

Scrambling.

"Young Master Wuchen!"

Mrs. Zhou’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and urgent.

Then her hands are on me, grabbing my arm, pulling with surprising strength.

She drags me backward just as—

CRASH!

The sound is deafening.

Glass shattering, metal hitting marble, the chandelier that had been hanging directly above where I’d fallen comes down in a cascade of crystal and twisted metal.

Right where I was.

Right where my head had been seconds ago.

If Mrs. Zhou hadn’t moved me...

If she’d been even one second slower...

The screaming gets louder.

People are backing away, shouting, pointing at the wreckage.

I’m still on the ground, dazed, trying to process what just happened.

My arms sting, I look down and see blood, small cuts from glass shards that must have scattered when I fell, my palms are scraped raw.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" Mrs. Zhou is crouching beside me, her face pale but composed. "Can you stand?"

I don’t get a chance to answer.

Because suddenly Bael is there.

I didn’t see him coming, didn’t hear him over the chaos, but he’s kneeling beside me, hands on my shoulders, eyes scanning my face with an intensity that’s almost unsettling.

"Are you hurt?" His voice is tight, controlled, but there’s something underneath it that sounds like barely restrained panic.

"I’m fine," I manage. "I..."

He’s not listening.

His eyes have already moved to my arms, to the blood trickling from the cuts, to my scraped palms.

Then, without warning, he scoops me up.

Princess-style.

One arm under my knees, the other supporting my back, lifting me like I weigh nothing.

"Bael..."

"You’re bleeding," he says flatly, like that explains everything.

He turns and starts walking, carrying me through the crowd that parts immediately to let him through.

I catch glimpses of faces as we pass. Shock, concern, curiosity.

Grandmother Wuchen is already moving toward Mrs. Zhou, her expression grave but controlled. She’ll handle the crowd, calm the panic, thank Mrs. Zhou for saving my life.

But Bael doesn’t stop.

He carries me out of the reception hall, down a corridor I vaguely recognize, and into a room that I realize after a moment is his bedroom.

He sets me down carefully on the edge of the bed, then immediately moves to a cabinet across the room, pulling out what looks like a first aid kit.

"I’m fine," I try again. "It’s just some cuts..."

"You could have died."

The words come out flat and factual.

He’s not looking at me as he says it, focused instead on opening the kit, pulling out antiseptic and bandages.

"...But I didn’t," I point out.

"You could have."

He kneels in front of me, taking one of my hands gently. His touch is careful, clinical, as he starts cleaning the scrapes on my palm.

It stings.

I don’t flinch.

"Someone..." I say slowly, trying to piece together what happened. "Someone hit me from behind..."

His grip tightens, his jaw is tight. "I see."

"Do you think..." I trail off, not sure how to phrase it.

Do you think it was an accident?

Do you think someone tried to kill me?

At my own wedding?

Bael doesn’t answer immediately. He finishes cleaning one hand and moves to the other, his movements precise and controlled.

Finally, he says quietly, "I will look into it, but for now, we need to be more careful."

That’s not a no.

I watch him work in silence, processing.

Someone pushed me.

A chandelier fell.

If Mrs. Zhou hadn’t been there...

If she hadn’t moved so fast...

The dizziness hits again, and I close my eyes, taking a slow breath.

"You’re pale," Bael says.

"I’m fine."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it’s true."

He looks up at me then, really looks at me, and there’s something in his expression I can’t quite read.

Concern, or anger... or both.

He finishes bandaging my palms, then his hand comes up, hesitating for just a second before settling gently on top of my head.

The touch is careful, almost awkward, like he’s not quite sure what he’s doing.

But it’s there.

Warm and grounding.

"Don’t do that again," he says quietly.

"Don’t do what? Almost get killed by a chandelier?"

"Don’t scare me like that."

His hand slides down from my head to cup the side of my face, thumb brushing just below my cheekbone.

"I’m fine," I say again, softer this time. "I’m really fine."

His hand drops, and he goes back to repacking the first aid kit with careful precision.

I watch him, still processing.

The sound of the chandelier hitting marble.

The screaming.

Mrs. Zhou’s hands pulling me back just in time.

Someone at this wedding...someone in that crowd...might have just tried to kill me.