The Fallen Heiress: Contract Marriage with the CEO Who Hates Me
Chapter 40: Tension

Chapter 40: Tension

Felicity closed her eyes, allowing her makeup artist to sweep eyeshadow across her lids. The dozens of small, round lightbulbs framing the rectangular mirror burned into her retinas, intensifying the exhaustion weighing on her body. A restless night with little to no sleep was finally taking its toll.

Her fingers tightened around her phone, fidgeting anxiously as a gnawing sense of unease settled in her stomach.

Why isn’t she reading my messages?

After failing to reach Jane by phone, she had resorted to sending at least ten messages—yet not a single one had been read. Jane Devold, who practically had her phone glued to her hand at all times, would never ignore her best friend like this.

Something was off.

She wasn’t answering last night, but I figured she was busy dealing with her father and the company... Felicity bit the inside of her cheek. God, who would’ve thought... Vernon Lin bought her father’s company? This is all happening too fast. I don’t like the sound of it.

Just as that troubling thought took root in her mind, a soft knock at the door made her flinch.

"Ah!" The makeup artist sucked in a sharp breath as the brush slipped, smearing glitter beyond the intended spot on Felicity’s eyelid.

"Felicity?"

Her manager, Alex, peeked into the room, his usually rosy cheeks noticeably pale. "I’m sorry to disturb you, but... there’s someone here to see you."

Before Felicity could even part her lips to ask who it was, the door swung open wider, and Alex was abruptly pushed aside.

Amanda.

Her mother swept into the room with the kind of presence that immediately sucked the air from the space, leaving behind a stiff, suffocating tension.

A cold sweat broke out at the nape of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Her mother never barged in like this—something was definitely wrong.

"Both of you, out," Amanda commanded, her tone sharp and pressing. Without a second’s hesitation, the makeup artist and Alex, her manager, scrambled out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind them.

Felicity’s chest tightened. "What’s wrong?" she exhaled, the words tumbling out in a single breath.

Without answering, Amanda strode over and thrust her smartphone into Felicity’s hands. The screen displayed yet another news article, this one plastered with Jane Devold’s name and face.

Felicity’s frown deepened as she scanned the headline. It was from a gossip outlet, featuring a grainy paparazzi photo of Jane standing beside Vernon Lin at the gates of the Devold estate. The bold, sensational headline screamed: "LING and VJ—More Than Just a Business Union?"

Amanda’s arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression a mixture of impatience and something sharper. "What do you know about this?"

Felicity blinked, her brows knitting together as she handed the phone back with a careless flick of her wrist. "Nothing. I haven’t spoken to her since we parted at the airport yesterday."

Amanda sighed sharply, the sound filled with frustration. "There’ve been rumors for years about Ian Devold’s financial troubles—whispers of stock manipulation, questionable deals... And now, a sudden heart attack? The company sold off overnight to some nobody? I don’t like any of this."

Felicity couldn’t deny the knot of unease tightening in her own chest, but there was something about her mother’s thinly veiled resentment that sparked a flicker of defiance inside her.

"Well, he’s no longer a nobody, you know. Now that he’s eliminated his final rival, Vernon Lin has become one of the richest men in the country. After the news broke about LING absorbing VJ, his company shot straight to the top of the rankings."

Amanda sighed again, pressing her fingers to the space between her eyebrows as if trying to smooth out an invisible wrinkle born of irritation.

"Get in touch with Jane and find out more about this deal—and her father. We need to know which hospital he’s in so we can send flowers. I’ll have my PA draft something formal, but ask Jane where she’s staying too, alright?"

"Fine," Felicity muttered, her voice clipped with restrained annoyance.

She hoped that brief response would put an end to the conversation. Amanda did turn to leave, her heels clicking against the floor, but just as Felicity dared to exhale in relief, her mother stopped mid-step. Slowly, she pivoted back, her sharp, narrow eyes locking onto her daughter with laser-like precision.

Without a word, she closed the distance, leaning in until her face hovered inches from Felicity’s.

Her gaze swept over Felicity’s features, scrutinizing every detail with the cold precision of a critic dissecting a flawed masterpiece. Whatever she found—or didn’t find—must have disappointed her, because her lips curled downward in unmistakable disapproval.

"Tell Anna to switch to waterproof makeup after the shoot," Amanda instructed coolly, her voice devoid of warmth. "You have a meeting with investors tonight. Take some anti-bloating medication before you leave. I know you haven’t eaten lunch yet—don’t. I’ll tell Alex to bring you some diet pills in the meantime."

Felicity’s body went rigid, her mother’s words wrapping around her like invisible chains, each one pulling tighter, constricting her breath. She knew exactly what "meeting investors" meant in show business—and just the thought of it made her stomach twist with dread.

Still, she had no choice but to comply. With a brief, silent nod, Felicity gave her mother the answer she wanted, even though every fiber of her being screamed in quiet defiance.

"Make sure to behave," Amanda said sharply, her parting words tossed carelessly over her shoulder as she finally left the room, her presence lingering like a shadow long after the door clicked shut.

Silence settled in, heavy and suffocating.

A few moments later, a gentle knock broke through the stillness. The door creaked open slightly, and Alex cautiously peeked inside, his expression tentative when he didn’t hear a response.

"Fel...?" he called softly, his voice laced with concern.

Felicity flinched, as if snapping out of a trance. Her gaze, distant and unfocused just moments ago, met his with a flicker of awareness.

Noticing the somewhat guilty look etched across her manager’s face, she quickly shook her head, attempting to mask the heaviness in her chest with a forced, confident smile.

"It’s fine," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Can you arrange a break for me between shoots? I need to... go somewhere."