Chapter 11 It seems to be her..
“Many expensive gifts were prepared for you today,” Bruce quickly diverted Sylvia’s attention. He didn’t want her preoccupied with that scumbag.
As expected, Sylvia’s focus shifted. After thinking for a bit, she replied, “Since they went through the trouble, log everything and we can reciprocate appropriately later.”
Bruce nodded. It was customary for them to keep track of gifts received and repay equivalently when needed.
Sylvia disliked such ostentatious events. Having faced nothing but fawning sycophancy since young, she found the facade tedious. After marrying Cyril, his cold apathy towards her presence at such functions bred further disinterest. Over time, she lost all taste for them.
As Sylvia descended, gasps echoed among the guests, stunned by her grace and poise which screamed pedigree breeding.
Glancing up, Cyril froze in disbelief. Why did this Ivanov heiress seem so familiar, uncannily resembling his ex–wife? Impossible, he scoffed internally. They were worlds apart, merely his imagination acting up. But the resemblance truly was striking.
Despite his doubts, Cyril remained composed in place.
Seeing Cyril, Stanford pretended he was just another nameless guest. As he introduced his children, pride and joy suffused his voice when Sylvia’s turn came, barely contained. His uncharacteristic delight elicited smiles all around.
With introductions done, Sylvia commenced the opening dance with Bruce. As they whirled across the floor, other couples gradually joined in until the dance floor grew vibrant.
Having completed the required social pleasantries, Sylvia finally retreated from the crowds, gently refusing Bruce’s offer to accompany her. She understood his concerns about running into Cyril but it was unnecessary. She had moved on fully from that chapter of her life. Furthermore, with her masked, Cyril likely wouldn’t even recognize her anyway. To him, she would always be the ugly duckling, not the beautiful swan.
The siblings talked briefly before Stanford suddenly called Bruce away, chiding him for both. siblings neglecting their guests. Left with no choice, Bruce quickly headed back after a few final reminders to Sylvia who simply smiled and directed him to send Juliet to find her later when she arrived.
Neither Sylvia nor Juliet enjoyed such events much, often holing up in a room until needed to put in requisite appearances. As a result, they remained elusive figures to most, with few
Chapter 11 It seems to be her…
knowing their true identities.
2/2
After Bruce left, Sylvia headed towards her room but almost collided into Cyril at the corner.
Seeing him sparked complex feelings inside. Cyril was also surprised to encounter the Ivanov heiress again but before he could react, she had already brushed past him wordlessly with barely a nod. Her lofty demeanor left Cyril momentarily stunned. After attaining success, no one had dared to treat him like that in years.
But she was born into generational wealth spanning back long before Cyril’s new money status. Even if she did nothing but eat, drink and play all her life, her inheritance would still last two lifetimes easily.
As he watched her departing figure, Cyril’s puzzlement grew. Had he underestimated Sylvia’s potential all these years? Why did this heiress seem so eerily reminiscent of her? Especially their gaze during that brief eye contact just now, even their eyes seemed alike.
–
Sylvia quickened her pace, reluctant to face Cyril knowing she would likely feel upset. But after a few steps, she halted and looked back again. Cyril had already moved on ahead, the two of them like parallel lines, never to intersect. A sudden sorrow welled up inside.
Despite her mask, those familiar with her would have recognized her instantly. Yet after so many years of marriage, Cyril still failed to identify his own wife. Even if she was the Ivanov heiress now, she remained an ordinary woman who loved him deeply before that. His inability to recognize her cut deeply.
Chiding herself for clinging stubbornly to unrealistic expectations, Sylvia sighed bitterly. She always knew she occupied little place in Cyril’s life. Why keep agonizing over pointless hopes?