The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

The private dining room was winding down to an awkward silence, with only Owen and Johnny left lingering at the tail end of the evening.

Owen didn’t prolong the inevitable. He rose to his feet, gave a nod to Nikolai and Asher, and muttered about it being time to head out. With a gesture for Johnny to follow, they were soon out the door.

Once the outsiders had cleared out, Nikolai finally caved to his weariness, collapsing into a chair with his face a shade of ashen defeat. Asher reached out, intending to lend support to his father, but his hand was brushed aside. “Dad…

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Nikolai, seated and seemingly spent, suddenly let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, Asher, you really shouldn’t have done that today.”

Asher pinched the bridge of his nose, but before he could utter a word, his father continued. “You probably don’t know… that whiz kid Mirabella is an S–class pharmacist.”

Nikolai’s voice was faint, but it landed heavily in Asher’s chest. His face mirrored sheer disbelief. “That can’t be… An S–class pharmacist at eighteen?”

Nikolai’s gaze fell to the carpet, his lips curling into a wry smile. “Nothing is impossible, son. Just because you haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

He had tried to bring up Mirabella, the alchemic prodigy, several times before. Still, Asher’s prejudice against her youth had made him impatient and dismissive to the point that Nikolai eventually dropped the subject.

Now, those conversations seemed devoid of any significance. Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

With effort, Nikolai pushed himself up from the chair, not sparing another glance at Asher. His stooped silhouette edged with a certain desolation, slowly exited the private room.

Asher, watching his father’s retreating figure, felt a sudden dryness in his throat. An S–class pharmacist… even the President of the Pharmacists‘ Guild had only reached that rank in the past couple of years, right? The thought of an eighteen–year–old holding such a title was beyond his wildest dreams.

Asher clenched his fists, struggling to articulate his feelings. His father had no reason to lie about such a matter, especially now. Regret began to seep into Asher’s heart as he considered his earlier antagonism.

Meanwhile, Mirabella and James stepped out of the private room.

“I need to hit the restroom. Why don’t you head downstairs and wait for me?” Mirabella suggested to James, feeling an urgent call of

nature.

“Sure thing,” James replied with a casual nod.

Mirabella glanced around and promptly followed the restroom signage while James descended the stairs leisurely.

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Reaching the lobby, James strolled over to the lounge area and fished out his phone from his coat to message Wyatt. His striking features and powerful presence made him stand out effortlessly, drawing

the eyes of those around him.

Among those in the lounge was Mandy, whose attention was naturally drawn to James. The first time she glanced his way, she sensed a familiarity, and it didn’t take long for her to recall where she had seen him. Just six months prior, in her hometown of Elm Creek, this young man had been living next door to her mother. Their paths had crossed briefly due to an adoption matter. His distinctive face was not easily forgotten.

Mandy hadn’t expected to encounter a hometown face in such a place. Observing him more closely, she noted an innate elegance and nobility in his demeanor that surpassed many high–born gents she’d encountered. He didn’t strike her as someone from a rural background.

With a slight twist of her mouth, Mandy soon diverted her gaze. No matter how refined or seemingly aristocratic, he was still from a small town, which wasn’t particularly remarkable to her.