Heiress's High Society Comeback

Chapter 1687:

Mother had hoped the marriage might eventually blossom into something tender and lasting.

But if Corrine beca wedge between them, it would only add sorrow to an already fragile situation.

After walking Chelsea back to her room, Rachel quietly returned to her own. She had just stepped out of the

bathroom, still drying her hair, when the sound of the front door opening caught her attention. Her eyes lit up at

the sight of Jules. “You're back?”

Jules gave her a glance, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He looked away almost

immediately. “Yeah.”

Dressed in a delicate satin nightgown, her skin kissed by the warmth of a fresh shower, Rachel looked every bit

the picture of soft elegance. Her beauty glowed, effortless and disarming.

But Jules, haunted by memories of the night before, shoved down the ache rising inside him. His desire warred

with restraint, and restraint won—for now.

Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket and headed straight for the study. “Go to bed. I've got work.”

Watching his retreating back, Rachel stood motionless for a moment, the smile fading from her lips. Her voice,

though soft, trembled faintly.

“Don’t overwork yourself. Get srest too.”

“Mm.”

Rachel stared at the closed study door, trying hard to hold back her tears, but they slipped free anyway.

By the next morning, the Ford family was already stirring with quiet efficiency. Several family members prepared

for the day's visit, though they agreed not to bring Carl along—at his age, the journey would be too taxing.

Once Chelsea inspected the prepared gifts one final time, the group set off toward the Astley residence.

The Astley family mansion was nestled deep within the Upper East Side—a neighborhood reserved for families

not just wealthy, but storied, powerful, and generations-deep in influence.

At the entrance, several uniformed guards stood with stoic composure, their presence a silent proclamation of

status and strength.

As the Ford family descended from the vehicle, Chelsea gave a quiet nod, signaling the staff to begin unloading

the carefully chosen gifts. Inside the estate, news of their arrival spread quickly. Franco and his family hurried

outside to greet them.

Rachel's mother, Elaine, approached just as the Fords passed through the stately courtyard, her smile warm and

gracious. “Welcome, everyone. It's good to have you here.”

Once seated inside the drawing room, pleasantries drifted in the air like soft music. Franco remained composed,

his gaze quietly assessing each guest—until it settled on Corrine. “Settling well in Nelting, Miss Holland?”

Corrine, perched on the edge of the sofa, glanced up with a flicker of curiosity in her gaze.

What was he really getting at?

Was this concern truly his own—or merely an errand someone had sent him on?

Noticing her pause, Franco rubbed the bridge of his nose with a hint of sheepishness. “Please don’t get the

wrong idea. Nate specifically askedto check in on you.”

That explained it. Corrine arched a brow ever so slightly. “I appreciate your concern.”

“You're welcome, Miss Holland,” Franco replied, attempting a polite smile.

She returned a faint one of her own before turning her gaze away.

So Nate had sent him. Typical. Even from afar, he was keeping a leash on her.

The idea of being under surveillance—no matter how well-intentioned—unsettled her.

In fact, it annoyed her more than she wanted to admit.

Across the room, the others were gathered at the table, engaged in idle conversation, eyes occasionally drifting

to their nearly empty cups. Yet still, no sign of Rachel's grandparents.

Jayden glanced at his watch and then looked toward Chelsea with a subtle signal.

She caught it instantly. Setting down her cup with deliberate grace, she offered a courteous smile. “I heard Mr.

Michael Astley hasn't been feeling well lately. | brought sherbal medicine that might ease his symptoms.

Would it be possible to see him?”

The air shifted. Rachel's parents stiffened, their expressions taut.

The two elders had already flouted

etiquette by ignoring the Jeane

night Dsforgunfirghbdie y most

skrldards. And now, to continue that

absence during a formal visit? The

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But the truth was, the Astleys knew Michael couldn't be swayed. His pride made him immovable.

Unless he vented his anger directly, there was no resolving this matter. They had tried talking to him earlier that

morning—tried and failed.

Elaine forced a strained smile. “He’s been resting. Letgo check on him.”

She gave Harold a discreet tug on the

sleeve and stood. Sees! your [1

anger Bebd ns ing after you.

ould you cwithto see her?”

Rachel hesitated, her eyes dipping to the floor. Her voice cout quiet, barely above a murmur. “I'll come.”

She bit her lip, then threw a glance in Franco's direction before stepping toward the door.

Her reluctance was unmistakable.

It felt like she was walking straight into the lion's den.

Deep in thought, Rachel stepped

toward the door—so distracted that

she didny poticetierskif brush

alalnst the table, toppling a cup with

a delicate clink. The content is on

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chapter there!

“Watch your step!” Jules hadn't spoken much, hadn't even seemed involved—but he had been watching her all

along.