Episode 121
Yara stared at the haze of honking cars and rushing headlights, her frustration bubbling over. “I just saw Elizabeth with some guy driving a Rolls-Royce,” she snapped, her voice tinged with irritation.
Oliver’s brow furrowed, suspicion flickering in his eyes. “Was it Elijah? Maybe they’ve patched things up after all.”
After his last terse call with Elizabeth, Oliver had pulled a few strings to discreetly check her marital records at the court. To his surprise, there was no trace of divorce proceedings. He chalked up her talk of separation to a fit of temper, thinking reconciliation was inevitable.
Yara let out a scornful laugh. “No! It wasn’t Elijah. I couldn’t get a good look at the guy’s face, but he had this ridiculous white hair. Definitely not Elijah.”
In Yara’s mind, flashy hair was a hallmark of someone trying too hard to stand out—a showboat with no substance. No matter how much wealth or status this mystery man flaunted, he couldn’t hold a candle to Elijah’s gravitas.
Oliver’s skepticism deepened. “Elizabeth? With another man? That doesn’t add up. She loves Elijah to the bone. They’re still legally married. Why would she risk everything to cheat on him?”
Though Oliver didn’t hold Elizabeth in high regard, he recognized her unwavering loyalty—just like her mother’s. Love for her, it seemed, was an unyielding vow.
But Yara’s eyes gleamed with a sinister light. “She might not be cheating, but the cracks in her marriage are obvious. Men like that don’t miss opportunities. And if someone like him swoops in, it won’t matter what Elizabeth wants. The Norris family would never tolerate a scandal like that. She’d be out on her ear.”
Her lips curled into a subtle smile. Divorce would be Elizabeth’s undoing and Yara’s golden ticket to becoming Mrs. James.
Oliver didn’t seem to catch the scheming undertone in her voice. He waved dismissively. “Let it go, Yara. Whatever mess she’s in has nothing to do with us. Even if she stays married to Elijah, there’s no benefit for us anymore.”
But Yara wasn’t ready to drop it. Her gaze sharpened as a cunning idea took shape. “Dad, do you remember Nate Crawford?”
