The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes

Chapter 20: Chapter 20-wife

"August..."

Manfred’s seductive, devil-may-care gaze faltered the moment it clashed with August’s suddenly cold and sinister eyes. Just as he was about to step closer, he halted.

"Have a drink with me."

August deliberately ignored the heat in the other man’s eyes. With a trace of melancholy, he undid his suit jacket, tossed it carelessly onto the sofa, and walked to the bar cabinet. He took out two wine glasses and an unopened bottle of red wine. His movements were smooth, almost elegant, as he popped the cork and poured two shallow glasses. The deep crimson liquid shimmered beneath the glow of the crystal chandelier, casting a bewitching, intoxicating light through the clear glass.

"What’s wrong?"

Manfred leaped onto the bar counter in one fluid motion. The apartment featured a private bar and wine rack—after all, both he and August had a taste for solitude, and alcohol was their chosen companion.

"Manfred, do you think it’s wrong of me to use a woman to further my plans?"

August took a slow sip of wine. His dark, narrow eyes churned with conflicting thoughts—there was a flicker of hesitation, but it vanished quickly. Just the memory of the inhumane torment he had endured over the past six years in America made it impossible for him to view Derrick and his son with any kind of objectivity. Even feigning a smile around them felt nauseating.

If it hadn’t been for meeting Manfred back then, he might not even be alive now.

August turned to meet Manfred’s glittering, glass-like eyes. A hand landed lightly on his shoulder. Manfred gave him a smile that could topple empires, eyes brimming with certainty and quiet triumph.

"It’s just a warm-up game," he said coolly. "Don’t get soft on me now. She just had the misfortune of showing up at the wrong time."

Janet’s appearance had thrown a wrench into their plans—but the way Derrick valued her, the fact that she stood between those two brothers, made her the perfect bait.

And this... was only the beginning.

After getting out of the car, Janet still had a long walk ahead of her, up a gentle slope. The time seemed to stretch endlessly. By the time she reached Snowpeak Villa, the butler was already waiting.

Robert greeted her and led her into the northern wing of the estate. The moment she stepped into the living room, the dazzling crystal chandelier transformed the entire space into something dreamlike. It was beautiful. Warm. Almost surreal.

There were only two seats at the dining table—hers and Philip’s.

Philip sat in a wheelchair, his movements awkward and slow. Janet watched him for a while, then quietly moved to sit beside him. Picking up the spoon from in front of him, she began gently feeding him a well-balanced mix of food.

Maybe, she thought, this was what a wife was supposed to do.

Not a single word was exchanged the entire time.

Philip’s hands, resting limply in his lap, twitched slightly. He turned his head, noticing the calm look on her face as she fed him, doting like a devoted wife. It made him feel suffocated.

Over the past six years, he had lost his temper—rarely—but he had always managed to rein it in.

If reality couldn’t be changed, all he could do was accept it.

But still... he didn’t want Janet to see him like this—weak and useless.

Philip turned his head away. As Janet leaned closer, he wheeled himself back instinctively.

Robert stepped forward immediately. From somewhere, two strong-looking men appeared and lifted the wheelchair without a word, carrying Philip straight upstairs.

Janet’s eyes followed the silhouette upstairs, as if she could see through the wide backrest of the wheelchair and glimpse the sorrow etched on his face. In that moment, her heart sank into a quiet, aching grief.

The once sumptuous dinner had lost all flavor. When Janet went upstairs and passed the room next to hers, she hesitated. She knew Philip lived right next door. Recalling Harold’s phone call, she paused for a beat—then resolutely knocked on his door.

"Come in."

Philip’s voice came from the other side. Janet drew a deep breath, then pushed the door open.

The scene before her caught her off guard.

Robert was kneeling beside the bed, massaging Philip’s legs with alternating pressure. Philip was already lying back slightly on the bed, dressed in a light blue pinstriped shirt. Under the soft lighting, his face looked composed and calm.

"Is something wrong?"

Philip raised a hand, motioning for Robert to stop. Once Robert left the room, he turned his gaze to Janet, his expression as placid as still water.

"It’s just..." Janet quickly looked away from his body and spoke slowly, "My brother’s back. I want to go home tomorrow, just for a bit."

She had only been married a few days. In theory, returning to the Louis family should have required approval from the Elwin family. And she knew—if Philip didn’t go with her, that mother and daughter would surely mock her again.

"I see..."

Philip glanced at her, seemingly thoughtful, then lowered his eyes. Janet couldn’t read his expression. Just as she was about to say something more, he spoke again.

"Then go ahead."

He didn’t say he’d go with her.

Janet had already anticipated this, but disappointment still crept in. He might be paralyzed, but she had never despised him for it. All she wanted—was the feeling of being part of a real family.

"Oh."

She nodded, watching as he reached for the light blanket beside the bed and draped it over his legs. A sudden stifling sensation filled the room. She turned quickly, pulled the door open, and left.

"Charles, are you free tomorrow?"

After Janet had gone, Philip picked up the phone by his bed and dialed Charles.

What he couldn’t do—Charles could.

The next morning, as Janet stepped out of the villa, a black Bugatti Veyron suddenly pulled up behind her. She paused, confused, her eyes following the car’s sleek rear for a few seconds.

That car...

"Get in."

Before she could fully process it, a familiar voice called out.

A familiar car. A familiar man.

Charles rested one hand on the open window, pulling off his slim sunglasses. The car came to a smooth stop right in front of her.

If she had had any doubts before, they vanished now.

Seeing him appear here—at Snowpeak Villa—Janet finally understood the relationship between Charles and Philip.

They were brothers, weren’t they?

"You don’t seem surprised," Charles noted, watching her calm, unreadable expression as she climbed into the passenger seat. One hand rested on the steering wheel, his gaze amused and slightly curious.

He had returned the moment Philip called him last night.

And now, it was time she saw clearly—who he really was.

"You knew all along, didn’t you?"

Janet stared at the man beside her, suddenly finding him terrifying. All the strange behavior he’d shown these past few days—now it all made sense.

He knew.

He knew she was Philip’s wife.

"What should I call you then?

Sister-in-law?" Charles tasted the words slowly, almost bitterly. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, the fact remained—Janet was Philip’s wife.

Janet had never imagined that the man she had married was none other than the heir of Black Rock Co.

And her direct superior at work—was her husband’s younger brother.