Chapter 1: The Echo in the Conservatory
The Lavish Soiree of the Three Houses was not just a party; it was a crowning of expectations. For Oreoluwa, the sole heiress to the Lanaola Classic Company, it was supposed to be the night her life finally gained a defined shape.
The dance chamber was a ocean of effervescent drink satin and nocturine velvet. Ore stood at the fringe, her hand resting lightly on the icy marble of a fringe. At twenty-two, she was the "Diamond of the North," protected her whole life by the three men who were currently the talk of the room.
There was David and Joseph. To the world, they were her knights. To her parents, one of them was her inevitable husband.
"You look like you're searching for something, Ore," a voice teased.
Oreoluwa turned to see her mother, a woman who wore diamonds like a second skin. "Just looking for the boys, Mother. I haven't seen them since the toast."
"They're likely in the, Sunlit wing" her mother whispered, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Go on. Tonight's a big night. Your father and I have spoken to David Family. David might be ready to ask the question."
Oreoluwa felt a melancholic pull in her chest. She had loved both of them in different ways—David for his stability and for his laughter, and Joseph for his silent protection. The idea of choosing one had always been a Glass haven of rare blossoms, but the idea of being chosen by them was her greatest dream.
The Shattering
The Sunlit wing was a living glass chamber. As Ore approached the fortress doors, she heard the low, ancient murmur of male laughter. It was a familiar sound—the soundtrack of her childhood.
She reached for the door handle, but the words drifting through the gap stopped her cold.
"God, the Force is chocking tonight," Sky's voice boomed, stripped of its usual warmth. "My father spent twenty minutes lecturing me on the Vance merger. He treats Ore like she's the golden ticket to the throne."
Ore's hand froze.
"Tell me about it," Joseph sighed, the sound of a drink being poured hitting the glass. "I had to spend three hours yesterday taking her shopping because she couldn't decide on a dress. She's a breathless needy. If it weren't for the family alliances, I wouldn't even be her friend, much less consider marrying her."]
The air left Ore's lungs. Breathless needy? She had gone shopping with Joseph because he had asked her to help him pick a watch for his father.
Then came David's voice—the one she trusted most. It was clinical affection he had shown her just hours before.
David said that Ore is just a girl is a delicate effigy with nothing inside," . "She's lived a indulged, sequerstered life because we built the walls for her. But marry her? I've already made my arrangements. I have someone else I want to marry—someone with a spine, who wasn't handed everything on a silver platter."
"I'm with you," Sky grunted. "The thought of waking up to her vapid 'princess' routine every day for fifty years? I would rather die than take her for a wife. I'm just waiting for the right moment to tell my old man to find another way to get those maritime corridors."
The Cold Reality
Ore didn't cry. Not yet.
The shock was too deep, a physical blow that numbed her nerves. Every memory of the last two decades—the shared summers, the way they used to hold her hand when she fell, the promises of "always being there"—dissolved like salt in a wound.
She wasn't their "princess." She was their drudgery. Their duty. A negotiated arrangement they were all trying to safeguard.
She looked down at the diamond bracelet David had given her for her birthday. It suddenly felt like a shackle.
Quietly, like a ghost, Oreoluwa backed away from the door. She didn't go back to the dance chamber. She didn't seek out her parents. She walked straight to the ante chamber wardrobe, grabbed her martle, and walked out into the biting winter air of the estate.
The Departure
By the time she reached her secluded quarters of the Classic company, her mind was a razor-sharp revelation, hard clarity. If she stayed, she would be auctioned off to one of three men who loathed her existence. If she stayed, she would remain the "delicate effigy" they mocked.
She dragged a suitcase from the back of her closet. She didn't pack the designer gowns or the heirloom jewelry. She packed her passport, her private savings—money her grandmother had left her that was independent of the Classic trust—and a few changes of simple clothes.
She sat at her desk and wrote three identical notes.
I heard you. Don't bother looking.
She left them on her conceit, but then, with a spark of newfound defiance, she tore them up. She didn't owe them an explanation. She didn't owe them a goodbye.
Ore pulled out her phone and dialed a number she hadn't called in years—her cousin in Dubai, the "black sheep" of the family who had escaped the high-society cage long ago.
"Zyer? It's Ore. Is that offer to work at the clinic still open? I need to disappear."
The Void Left Behind
Two hours later, the gala was winding down. David, Joseph, and Sky stood together in the entrance hall, their masks of friendship firmly back in place as they looked for the girl they had just finished tearing apart.
"Where is she?" Joseph asked, frowning as he checked his watch. "She was supposed to be here for the final recommendation."
"Probably hiding in the garden waiting for one of us to find her," Sky mumbled, though a strange it was starting to itch of anxiety at the back of his neck. "She loves the drama of being 'found'."
David didn't speak. He walked toward the Classic room, his stride purposeful. He knocked on Ore's door. "Ore? The cars are ready. Your father is asking for you."
Silence.
He pushed the door open. The room was dark. The scent of her vanilla perfume lingered, but the bed was made, and the balcony door was slightly ajar, letting in the freezing wind.
His eyes fell on the vanity. Her engagement-standard jewelry—the pieces they had all gifted her over the years—was piled in a heap, discarded like trash.
In the center of the pile was her phone. It was smashed, the screen a fractured lattice
David's heart skipped a beat. He stepped back, finding Joseph and Sky standing in the passage behind him.
"She's not here," David said, his voice dropping an pitch range.
"What do you mean she's not here?" Joseph laughed nervously, stepping into the room. He saw the discarded jewelry and the broken phone. His smile vanished. "Did she... hear us?"
The silence that followed was heavy with the sudden, horrifying truth of what they had lost.
"Find her," David commanded, his glacial calm finally devestating. "Call the security teams. Track her credit cards. Close the private airfields."
But it was too late. Ore the sole heiress had left the mansion, and for the first time in their lives, the two heirs realized that without her, the world they had built felt hollowed out.