Chapter 5
The photo album slipped from Julian Sterling’s hands and hit the floor with a dull thud.
He collapsed beside it, dazed, muttering to himself, “I was wrong… I got it all wrong…”
He couldn’t stop picturing Noelle standing quietly in the background of that beach photo, her shoulders and waist
wrapped in gauze.
She was the one who had risked everything to save him.
Not Vanessa.
It was her.
Night fell, and the Sterling estate was ablaze with lights.
Family members and close associates arrived one after another, faces full of smiles, mouths full of praise-for Vanessa.
Vanessa, basking in the spotlight, carried herself like the lady of the house, graciously accepting their congratulations.
Julian stood beside her, holding her hand. His smile looked polished on the surface-but it didn’t reach his eyes.
When everyone was seated, one chair remained conspicuously empty.
Noelle’s chair.
It had sat in that same place for years and was never moved.
Vanessa spotted it immediately. Her expression turned dark.
She released Julian’s hand and stormed over.
With a loud clatter, she knocked the chair over, then spun toward the butler.
“What the hell is this? Who set an extra place for an outsider? Are you senile?”
The old butler bowed his head. “Apologies, Miss Moore. That was my mistake. I’ll remove it right away-”
The dining room fell into uncomfortable silence.
Some guests sipped their wine. Others busied themselves adjusting their napkins. No one dared to speak.
Mr. Sterling frowned deeply. Mrs. Sterling looked like she wanted to say something but held it in.
Just as the butler reached for the chair, Julian suddenly stood up.
“It’s just a chair,” he said calmly. “What’s the big deal?”
“Leave it.”
His voice was soft-but carried an unmistakable finality.
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Vanessa’s head snapped toward him. “Julian, what do you mean by that?”
He didn’t even glance at her. His eyes were fixed on the butler.
“Set it back in place. We don’t want people thinking the Sterling family is that petty.”
The butler hesitated for only a moment, then quietly propped the chair upright and returned it to its spot.
Vanessa’s face went pale, then flushed red with fury. Her fists clenched tightly under the tablecloth.
But in the end, she forced a tight-lipped smile.
“You’re right, Julian. I was overreacting.”
She sat back down, but her eyes were cold and sharp, her expression twisted by suppressed rage.
The guests exchanged glances, the tension palpable.
Mr. Sterling cleared his throat and raised his glass.
“Well, it’s a family dinner. No need to be so tense. Let’s start with a toast.”
Everyone quickly chimed in. Glasses clinked, briefly masking the awkward atmosphere.
When the dishes were served, Vanessa gently placed a piece of fish into Julian’s bowl.
“I remember you used to love this,” she said sweetly. “Have a bite?”
Julian stared at the fish in his bowl.
For a moment, he saw Noelle’s hands-patiently picking out every single bone before serving it to him.
But Vanessa? She didn’t even know he hated fish bones.
The table was full, the room bustling.
But without Noelle there… everything felt strangely hollow.
Julian shoved a few bites of food into his mouth, then set down his chopsticks.
“Enjoy the meal, everyone. I’m heading upstairs.”
Vanessa asked gently, “What’s wrong?”
“My stomach feels off,” he replied without looking back.
He left the room.
As he passed by Noelle’s old bedroom, he hesitated. Something pulled him toward it.
He pushed the door open and flipped on the lights.
His breath caught in his throat.
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The room was completely empty.
Everything that had once belonged to Noelle-her books, her sketches, her scent-was gone.
As if she’d never lived there at all.
Julian’s chest tightened. A storm roared in his head.
He bolted back downstairs, his voice echoing through the hall, “Who touched Noelle’s room?”
All conversation ceased.
Julian stood gripping the staircase railing, knuckles white, veins bulging with tension.
The butler glanced nervously at Vanessa before speaking.
“Master Julian… it was Miss Moore’s instruction. This afternoon.”
Vanessa casually set down her utensils, her tone breezy.
“Julian, why are you so upset over something so trivial?”
“She said she was leaving with nothing, remember? So I told them to pack up her things and send it all to the junk
station.”
“The what?” Julian’s voice cracked, rage flaring. His eyes turned bloodshot.
Only then did Vanessa realize something was off. But she still shrugged, unbothered.
“It’s just a few old clothes and books. She didn’t want them, so why keep them around?”
Julian’s breathing grew ragged. His vision blurred.
Those “old things” included Noelle’s treasured photo albums.
The handmade birthday gifts she gave him.
The seashells and pressed leaves they’d collected together as children.
Twenty years of memories-tossed out like garbage.
“You had no right!” he shouted, voice shaking with fury.
“That was her room! Her things! Who the hell do you think you are to touch any of it?!”
Silence slammed down like a hammer.
The entire dining room froze, stunned by Julian’s sudden explosion.
