The Billionaires Dead Fiancée Is Back

The moment I bought Blair Sutton at that exclusive private charity auction, with a bid that made the entire room go silent, she laid down three non-negotiable rules. First, I had to give her an unlimited-use platinum Amex. Second, I was to cover the fallout and legal costs for any behavior she chose to engage in. And finally, I was absolutely forbidden from asking about her private life. Only if I agreed to all three would she consent to leave with me. Everyone in my circle thought she was delusional, an amateur playing a high-stakes game. They were convinced I’d never agree to such brazen conditions. I simply nodded. “Just promise me you’ll take care of your face.” For the next three years, I poured well over a hundred million dollars into her life—an exorbitant price to pay for a ghost. My associates often laughed, whispering that I had lost my mind to a fleeting obsession. But I ignored them. I always got what I wanted, no matter the cost. The day my father died—the day my world was already cracking—she totaled one of my cars in a reckless street race. I shoved my grief down and rushed to the emergency room to handle the mess. But before I could step inside, I heard Blair talking to her friends. “Blair, he’s wrapped around your finger, like a house pet,” one giggled. “You’ll be set for life when you marry him.” “Seriously. Once the old man is gone, the Harrington fortune is all yours, right?” another chimed in. A chorus of easy laughter followed. Then came Blair’s voice, sharp and cold, cutting through the noise. It was the voice of a queen delivering a sentence. “Marry him? Please. He’s a walking ATM who got lucky. He doesn’t have the spine.” The door swung inward. In the stunned silence of her friends, I walked calmly toward Blair. I ignored the faint look of alarm that flickered across her features. I gently, meticulously brushed a speck of dirt from her forehead, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Good. Your face is fine.”

1 Blair jerked her head away, impatience radiating off her. “It was barely a scratch, Lachlan. God, are you always going to be this dramatic?” The sudden tension was thick enough to choke on. Her friends rushed to smooth things over, making clumsy small talk, covertly trying to figure out if I’d heard the contempt in their earlier conversation. Blair shot me a slightly anxious glance, too. Looking at that face—a mirror image of the woman I truly loved—I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I shook my head slowly. “I only just arrived.” She exhaled, relief softening her expression. But that moment was immediately broken by a flurry of activity at the entrance. Finn Delaney. Her childhood friend. Blair’s entire demeanor changed. She rose quickly, her voice taking on a delicate, soothing quality I had never once heard directed at me. “Finn, why did you come? I told you I was fine. You shouldn’t have run out in this downpour.” Finn clutched an umbrella, his eyes welling up with tears the moment he saw her scraped elbow. “I was so worried. When I saw the news alert, I just… panicked.” Blair gently wiped a tear from his cheek. “It’s late. I’ll drive you home.” With that, the two of them gathered their things and left. I stood there, silently watching, while the others shifted uncomfortably. This was the arrangement, after all. The first rule she set the day I bought her: I don’t ask about her private life. I don’t ask about Finn. Before she reached the exit, Blair threw a casual line over her shoulder. “My car is wrecked. Take mine. You figure out your own way home.” Then, she carefully draped her cashmere coat over Finn’s shoulders and walked out, her arm linked with his. She didn’t spare a single thought for how I would get home on a stormy night, dealing with the shock of my father’s death. “Lachlan, Blair she…” one of the friends stammered. “Save it,” I interrupted. I knew the calculus. In Blair’s mind, I would always be secondary to Finn. The few scraps of patience and genuine warmth she possessed were entirely devoted to him. I had long since accepted the truth: no matter how perfectly that face resembled the one I yearned for, she was never going to be her. But just to look at the contours of that face—the face I saw in my dreams—I was willing to pay any price, endure any humiliation. I called my driver, then left to begin making arrangements for my father’s funeral. It was well past midnight when I finally returned home. The lights were on in the living room, which surprised me. Usually, she was asleep by now. Seeing the exhaustion etched on my face, Blair frowned. “Why are you home so late?” “Business,” I replied curtly. She scoffed, disbelieving. “Honestly, what are you trying to prove?” “I only went to comfort Finn. He’s sensitive—a little boy, really. He panicked and ran out in the rain to see me. Sending him home was the least I could do.” There was zero consideration for the fact that I had dropped everything and rushed to her side in the middle of the night, consumed by my own sorrow. I massaged my head, too tired to argue. Seeing my weary state, Blair walked up to me and grabbed my chin. A gesture of forced affection, she leaned in for a kiss, an attempt at a generous truce. I turned my head, avoiding her lips. Her face darkened immediately. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lachlan. What’s with the drama?” “My father died. I’m not in the mood.” Blair froze. I didn’t wait for a reply. I just turned and walked into the master bedroom. A while later, Blair slipped into bed beside me, smelling faintly of the expensive, shared shower gel. She took my hand gently. “I didn’t know,” she murmured. I said nothing. She continued, talking mostly to herself. “Finn’s birthday is coming up. I saw an old Patek Philippe in a magazine, a limited-edition one. It was beautiful.” “I tried to find it, but it’s considered an antique—unavailable. Then I remembered you have one just like it in your safety deposit box. You never wear it. Why don’t you just give it to Finn? He’d love it.” My headache worsened, and my voice was dangerously quiet. “That was my mother’s watch. I will not give it away.” The hand that held mine went rigid. It was the first time I had ever refused her. She bit her lip, snatched her hand away, and got out of bed, pulling on her clothes. When she left, the door slammed shut with a violence that rattled the floorboards. I simply turned over and fell into a heavy, restless sleep. 2 I drove myself to the funeral the next morning. The moment I opened the car door, I spotted a pair of men’s boxers on the passenger seat, noticeably soiled with a white residue. This car had only been driven by Blair when she took Finn home the night before. I was already running late. I quickly swapped cars and headed to the ceremony. The guests were beginning to arrive when Blair and Finn finally sauntered in, noticeably late. “Finn wasn’t feeling well this morning,” Blair announced coolly. “We had a bit of a slow start.” “Take a seat,” I replied, keeping my eyes lowered. The room was warm, and Finn eventually slipped off his designer trench coat. In an instant, he became the focal point of every whispering glance. He was wearing a blazing crimson shirt. Finn shrank back, sensing the sudden scrutiny, and hid behind Blair. “What is it? Why are they all looking at me?” he whispered, clutching her sleeve. Blair stroked his hair, sheltering him and offering soft words of comfort. My temper, usually iron-clad, finally snapped. I fixed him with an icy stare. “You will either take that garment off immediately, or you will get out.” “Wearing bright red at my father’s funeral? Mr. Delaney, your manners are impeccable.” The guests around us held their breath. Finn’s eyes went instantly red, as if he had suffered the ultimate offense. He bit his lower lip. “Fine! I’ll go!” He bolted, grabbing his coat, which had been tossed over a chair, and running out the door. Blair glared at me, her face dark with fury, and chased after him. I shut my eyes tightly, taking several deep breaths. “My apologies. Please, continue,” I said, and everyone quickly returned to their seats, pretending the scene had never happened. I sank into my chair, drained. I could already picture the scathing gossip that would follow this event. A sharp ache rose in my nose and throat. If only she were here. Blair returned after the ceremony ended, her clothes slightly rumpled. She marched over to me, her brow furrowed in anger. “Did you really have to humiliate Finn in front of all those people over something so petty?” “He’s just a kid; he doesn’t understand those rules. Why punish him?” “Was this about me going to his place to comfort him the other day? That was days ago, why are you still so insecure?” Her relentless accusations made me laugh, a dry, bitter sound. Ordinarily, I would have swallowed my anger, but not today. “It was my father’s funeral,” I countered, the sarcasm heavy. “Who, exactly, was trying to stir up trouble?” She flinched, avoiding my gaze. After a long pause, she offered a condescending compromise. “Fine, I’ll talk to him later. But he is still not your place to discipline.” “Finn fell when he ran out earlier. He needs a check-up. You own a hospital—get them to prepare the best suite immediately. A full battery of tests. Do that, and we can put this behind us.” I refused without hesitation. “Absolutely not.” I agreed to clean up her messes, but I wouldn’t fund her lover’s medical care. “You are becoming increasingly impossible,” Blair spat. She ripped the white mourning corsage from her lapel, threw it on the ground, and stormed out. I arrived home that night to find Finn seated at my place at the dining table. In front of him was the signature wellness smoothies my housekeeper, Mrs. Wong, always prepared for me after stressful days. Finn looked up, a triumphant smirk touching his lips. “Locke’s home? Blair said Mrs. Wong’s smoothies is the most nourishing, so I’m having some to help me recover.” He gestured to the glass. “You should have a glass, too.” I barely spared him a glance, walking past the table. Blair rushed to intercept me, looping her arm through mine, her tone unusually soft. “I thought it over. You don’t want to give up the hospital suite? Fine. Our house doctor can handle it, and Finn can stay here. It’s the same thing.” “He likes the sunniest master suite—the one that’s yours now. Give it to him. He needs a nice, bright room to recover in and keep his spirits up.” Blair was utterly certain I would agree. After all these years, I had spoiled her beyond measure. She asked, and I gave. Whether it was an impossible reservation or a million-dollar hypercar, I never blinked. 3 Before I could answer, Blair pulled me toward the dining table. She pushed a can of pickles toward me. “I got those pickles you love from that place downtown. Eat up.” I stared at the meal. It wasn’t my favorite. It was hers. The one I had lost. Since her accident, this dish had become my self-deceiving comfort food. I picked up a piece with my forks. It tasted exactly the way I remembered. Seeing me eat, Blair’s expression softened slightly. Finn, jealousy flashing in his eyes, quickly scooped a piece of roasted pork filet into my plate. He immediately gasped and stammered, “Oh, I’m so sorry, Locke! I forgot your father… because of his heart condition…” “I’m always so clumsy. Don’t be mad.” He gave a desperate, pleading look to Blair. Blair patted Finn’s head, her expression sickeningly indulgent. “It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.” She looked at me, her voice flat. “Finn is young. Let it go.” She then rolled up her sleeves and began deftly peeling a shrimp for him. Faced with their sickeningly intimate dynamic, I lost all appetite. I put down my forks. Seeing I was done, Blair seized the opportunity. “Finn’s lease on his apartment is up soon. You should give him one of your properties to tide him over.” “Your downtown penthouse is perfect. The decor is gorgeous, and it’s right near where he needs to look for work.” The penthouse she was referring to was the apartment I had purchased to be my wedding home. Every detail of the interior design was personally chosen by her. I felt a sudden, hollow laugh bubble up inside me. My complete lack of boundaries had truly warped her perception of reality. She believed I would never stop making concessions for her. But when it came to the one I loved, I had a line. “Blair,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Are you asking me to finance your mistress?” Finn shot up, his face crimson with indignation. “Locke, I know you resent my closeness with Blair, but we are innocent! Our relationship is completely pure.” He turned tearfully to Blair. “I’m interrupting. I’m so sorry, Blair, I’ll leave right now.” Blair quickly grabbed his hand, her gaze turning frigid as she faced me. “Apologize to him.” I scoffed. “Did I say anything untrue?” “Or was that pair of soiled boxers in my passenger seat not yours?” Finn began to hyperventilate, his face swelling with blood. He shook his head wildly. “You’ve completely misunderstood! I was just really upset that day, and Blair… she just used her hand to help me. We’ve been close since childhood. It’s nothing!” Blair pulled him into a hug, stroking his back reassuringly. “You don’t need to explain yourself. He’s been paranoid all week.” She looked at me with cold contempt. “Do you actually believe being this irrational is going to make me look at you differently?” “You need to find a limit for your tantrums. I’ll spend more time with you later, okay?” “But Finn cannot be stressed right now.” “If you keep this up, I’ll just take Finn and we’ll both move out.” I recognized the threat. In the past, that sentence alone was enough to make me cave immediately. I would apologize profusely, meet her demand, and she would then “graciously” forgive me. But my attention was suddenly elsewhere. It was fixed on the phone in my hand. A text message. It was from a number I knew intimately, a number I was convinced would never contact me again. Locke, wait for me. Four simple words. I gripped the phone, tears suddenly blurring my vision. 4 Was this a cruel prank? Or was she, the one I’d mourned for three years, truly back? The possibility made my eyes burn. The phone was snatched from my grasp. Blair frowned as she looked at me. “Why are you crying?” She glanced at the screen, but it had already gone dark. She tried to input a few common passcodes, failing each time. Frustrated, she tossed the phone onto the table. “Did you hear what I said? Are you listening to me?” My mind was a fog of shock and desperate hope. I couldn’t waste any more energy on this charade. I grabbed my phone and stood up. “I think we both need some space to cool down.” Seeing my retreating back, Blair looked utterly stunned. It was the first time I had walked away first. In every argument, she was the one who stormed off, and I was the one who chased after her, apologizing, begging her to return. Maybe he’s just really upset this time, she thought. He’ll be over it in a few days. After that night, I didn’t return home for nearly a week, nor did I text Blair. She started to panic. Her friends were quick to reassure her. “Please, Blair, don’t worry. We all see how much he loves you.” “He’s a man; let him cool off. He’ll come crawling back to his goddess, he always does.” They laughed. Finn nodded, refilling her wine glass. “Exactly, Blair. It’s nothing. Locke is just throwing a tantrum, waiting for you to come beg him.” “Besides, his dad just died. You’re the closest thing he has left. He’s not going to risk losing you.” Blair remembered seeing her own face as the wallpaper on my phone that night. The image was grainy, probably a stolen photo, but it was unmistakably her. I know he’s obsessed with me. He wouldn’t just throw this away. She finally relaxed. “You’re right. Lachlan takes over as CEO next week. I’ll show up at his succession party. He’ll fall back in line then.” At the party, I was going through the motions, toasting with partners. After that initial text, the number had gone silent again. I forced myself to be patient. If it was truly her, she would come to me when the time was right. I just had to wait. I took a sip of champagne, then saw Blair walk into the ballroom with Finn. My smile vanished. Finn was wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit—the exact suit my mother had commissioned from a world-renowned designer for my twenty-first birthday. It had taken six months to make. I strode toward them, my voice laced with fury. “Take that off! Who gave you permission to wear that?” Finn recoiled, intimidated by my gaze. But remembering Blair was nearby, he puffed out his chest. “What’s your problem?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I grabbed the fabric, pulling at his lapel. Blair, incensed by my aggression, yanked me away. Caught off balance, my lower back hit the edge of a long banquet table. The towering champagne pyramid on top shattered, crashing to the floor. The enormous noise drew the attention of every guest. My succession party had devolved into a public farce. Blair stepped in front of Finn, shielding him. She looked at me with utter contempt. “How long are you going to keep this act up, Lachlan? I came here, didn’t I?” “That suit was never a good color on you. It looks much better on Finn—he’s young. You have dozens of suits. Why are you making a scene and humiliating him in public?” She finally seemed to notice the champagne dripping from my clothes and the small shards of glass embedded in my leg. A fleeting look of something like pity crossed her face. She reached out to help me up. “Stop throwing a tantrum. I’ll buy you a new one later, okay?” But I barely registered the pain in my leg or the sound of her voice. My eyes were fixed on the person standing just behind her, a figure I knew impossibly well. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze. Blair followed my gaze and slowly turned around. When she saw the woman’s face, her pupils dilated in pure, raw shock.