My five ghostly husbands
Chapter 254 His love, her inspiration

Chapter 254: Chapter 254 His love, her inspiration

Next morning, after a light breakfast shared with her husbands, Ruby stepped out of the house dressed in a fresh cream-colored robe, her long white hair tied in a loose braid that swayed as she walked. Her red eyes gleamed with focus as she unlocked her newly delivered car, the black surface reflecting the soft morning sun.

Her husbands peeked through the door to watch her go. Milo waved, Julian handed her a neatly packed tiffin from the porch and Karl yelled, "Drive like a queen!"

Ruby just chuckled and drove off.

She flew through the sky in her black car. Her long white hair was shining in the morning light, eyes focused ahead, the steering steady in her hands.

Below, villagers tilted their heads up.

"Is that... Ruby?"

"It is! That’s her new sky car!"

"She was such a mess before—always drunk and shouting in alleys... I heard she couldn’t even remember her own name some nights."

"Now she’s flying above our heads in that shiny thing! Who would’ve guessed?!"

"And she’s running a company now too—those robes everyone’s wearing lately? All hers!"

"Even Red Market vendors are buying from her now."

"She really cleaned up her life. If she’s taking husbands... I’d give my son away right now!"

"Pfft, too late. She’s got four already, and not one looks unhappy."

"I still think she might want a fifth. Maybe she’s collecting."

As Ruby dipped lower and circled the company, she landed with ease on the terrace, parking right in the center.

Villagers gathered near the company, trying to catch a glimpse.

"She’s not just rich," one ghost muttered, "she’s unstoppable now."

And inside the car, Ruby sat a moment longer, smiling to herself before stepping out. The wind picked up, lifting the edge of her robe slightly as she walked down the stairs.

She used to be the village’s shame.

Now She was their headline and she hadn’t even started yet.

Ruby walked into her company, her steps calm and sure. she made her way through the main workspace.

She stopped here and there, asking gently how things were going. Some of the workers smiled brightly when they saw her. A few looked shy but proud to show their progress. Ruby nodded, encouraging each of them—her presence calm, like early morning sunlight through a window.

The office smelled faintly of ink and new fabric, and she could hear soft stitching noises in the background. All was going well.

Today was important.

Because at 11:45 AM, guests from the city were scheduled to arrive. They were business owners and investors who had heard about her rising company and they claimed they wanted to collaborate.

At 11:45 AM sharp, three witches from the city entered the company.

They arrived in a sleek, modern hovercar that parked beside her sky-lift. Their robes were expensive..stitched with fine threads, city craftsmanship but their smiles were thin, practiced, and too polished.

Ruby greeted them politely and offered tea. They declined, instead placing a sleek black folder on her desk.

"We’ve reviewed your designs," said the woman in the lead. "Very impressive. Your countryside style is gaining traction in the outer markets. We’d love to help you expand into the inner-city sector."

Her voice was smooth. Rehearsed.

Ruby opened the folder.

It was a contract. Long. Wordy. Laced with hidden traps.

They wanted ownership of her robe patterns, final approval rights on all future designs, and a majority cut from every vendor she worked with in the city.

In short they wanted her brilliance, without giving her any control.

Ruby didn’t flinch.

Instead, she tilted her head and gave a small smile.

"This contract... is very interesting," she said. "Though I must ask—was it written for someone with no business experience?"

The lead witch’s smile wavered.

Ruby’s fingers gently tapped the contract. "Because if you thought I’d sign away my entire company for some glittery access to city shelves—you clearly haven’t done your homework."

The room went still.

The witches exchanged glances. One of them started to say something, but Ruby raised a hand.

"I’ve built this company from the ground up. I’ve stood in the market myself, sold robes and carried boxes through mud when the winds were against me. And now you think you can toss a few shiny numbers at me and take over?"

She stood up, graceful but commanding.

"Let me offer you a better deal."

She took out her own folder and slid it across the table.

"You’ll get exclusive vendor access to my countryside collection for one season. I’ll choose the supply numbers. The designs remain mine. The pricing stays with me. And for wasting my time with that first contract, I’m adding a 15% base markup."

Their eyes widened.

"You can sign now," Ruby added casually, "Or I can go to your competitor. I hear they’re looking for quality designers who actually know how to run a business."

The silence stretched.

Then the lead witch, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, picked up the pen.

They signed.

As they walked out, one of the younger witches whispered to another, "She’s sharp... way sharper than they said."

Ruby watched them go.

She hadn’t just protected her company.

She had raised the bar.

And by the end of that meeting, those city witches weren’t scoffing at her countryside roots anymore.

They were respecting her power.

***

Ruby sat at her office desk, staring at the blank sketch paper in front of her.

She was trying to design her new robe collection for the upcoming rainy season—something stylish, water-resistant, and unique.

But nothing came.

She had scribbled a few lines. Crossed them out. Started again. Erased. Crumpled.

Everything felt dull. Unoriginal. Her thoughts were foggy, her fingers limp over the pencil.

And then... the headache started.

A slow, tight throb behind her eyes.

She leaned back in her chair, pressing her palm to her forehead. "Ugh..."

That’s when she remembered—Julian’s tiffin.

With a sigh, she reached for the neatly packed lunchbox beside her files, lovingly wrapped in a soft towel. She opened it slowly, and the warm, gentle aroma of home-cooked food filled the room.

Inside were soft rice balls, a sweet-savory herb sauce, and warm vegetables cut into her favorite shapes. He’d even added a note.

"Eat well, and don’t forget to rest. —Jules"

Her lips curved into a small smile.

As she took the first bite, warmth spread through her chest. Slowly, the pounding in her head eased, and the fog in her mind began to lift.

The food wasn’t just healing her hunger.

It was grounding her.

She looked at the blank paper again and this time, instead of frustration, she imagined robes that felt like comfort on rainy days. A soft hood that hugged gently. Waterproof embroidery that shimmered like dew. And lining that carried warmth, like a husband’s gentle care wrapped around the shoulders.

Julian’s quiet love had become her inspiration.

—To be continued...🪄