EVERYONE WANTS MY MYSTERIOUS

POV: VARELIA

Varelia's first impression of the Vale mansion was pretty clear: nobody bothered to greet her when she arrived. That told her a lot right away. The second thing hit a little harder-everyone was actually inside, waiting for her.

Before she even reached the estate, someone had already swapped her wedding dress for a plain ivory gown. The scent of roses lingered in her hair, though, and that new wedding ring felt awkward on her finger, almost like it didn't belong.

She glanced out the window at this looming mansion-massive, black stone, huge windows, gardens trimmed so neat it felt unnatural, and security cameras tucked under the roof. Guards everywhere. Three in plain sight, two more lurking where most people wouldn't notice. The Vale family definitely had money, but the real message was, they had enemies.

She looked down at her ring. This marriage? It was never about romance, and they'd both understood that from the start. Caelan needed a wife for reasons she hadn't bothered to dig into. She needed a fresh start, something to keep old threats off her track. So they made a pact. Legal marriage, separate lives, no questions, and definitely no expectations-or at least, that's what she thought.

The car stopped. The door opened, an attendant stepped back, and Varelia climbed out. The second she stepped inside, she realized nobody cared about their "agreement." To the people at Vale's table, she wasn't a wife. She was an outsider, and they were ready to make sure she felt it.

The dining room was something out of an old movie: a table long enough to feed a small army, decked out in crystal and silver, loaded with food. At the head sat Elara Vale-Caelan's grandmother-elegant, silver hair twisted up perfectly. Varelia had seen her photo before, but photos missed the punch in her eyes. Sharp, cold, almost like she could see right through any lie you'd ever told.

Next to Elara, Corvin Vale-Caelan's uncle, looking a lot less polite. Across from him, Lysandra, Caelan's younger sister. And right beside Lysandra, Seraphina Drake. Beautiful, glamorous, giving Varelia a look that screamed, "Who let this mess in?"

Varelia moved to stand beside Caelan. He had entered earlier, no fuss, still looking every bit the controlled, unreadable man she'd married. Not a hair out of place, not a word out of turn, eyes like doors locked from the inside.

He glanced at his family, then at her.

"You're late," Elara snapped.

Varelia checked the clock-nope, not late.

"Good evening, Grandmother," Caelan said, cool as ever.

Elara didn't even acknowledge him, just kept her gaze locked on Varelia. "So this is her."

Varelia offered a polite smile. "Good evening, Mrs. Vale."

"Grandmother," Caelan corrected.

Elara's face went cold. "Very well. Grandmother."

Varelia kept her expression flat. One thing she'd learned: people who try to intimidate you get upset when you don't play along.

Caelan pulled out the chair next to him. "Sit."

She did. As soon as she sat, Seraphina smiled-a beautiful, empty smile.

"So," Seraphina raised her wineglass, "you're Varelia."

"Yes."

"I've heard next to nothing about you."

"That makes two of us."

Lysandra nearly spit out her drink. Caelan's eyes flickered with the tiniest hint of amusement.

Seraphina's smile got tight. "So you like privacy."

"Usually."

"Interesting."

Seraphina leaned back. "Where did you study?"

"Several places."

"Which ones?"

"Private institutions."

"Which institution?"

Varelia held her gaze. "Does it matter?"

Seraphina laughed, soft but sharp. "Of course. You're married to the heir of Vale International."

"So?"

"So everyone will want to know what kind of woman joined the Vale family."

Varelia reached for her water. "I think they'll survive without knowing."

The table went quiet. Corvin looked entertained. Lysandra covered another smile. Even Elara shifted, barely.

But Seraphina wasn't done. "What do you do?"

"I work."

"Where?"

"Independently."

"Doing what?"

"Various things."

Seraphina blinked. "That's vague."

"It's accurate."

Caelan's hand paused. He was listening now.

Seraphina tilted her head. "And your family?"

Varelia's hand stopped, just for a second. Nobody noticed-except Caelan.

"My family isn't relevant."

Seraphina's eyes sharpened. "Not relevant?"

"No."

"That's unusual."

"Maybe."

Seraphina turned to Elara. "I just find it odd. We know almost nothing about the woman Caelan married."

Elara's voice was ice. "That's exactly my concern."

Varelia looked at her.

Elara set her napkin down. "Caelan will lead this family. His wife will carry the Vale name everywhere. Marriage isn't a private matter here."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"And you still agreed to marry him."

"I did."

Elara studied her. "Why?"

Varelia thought-protection. Her old life had gotten dangerous. Caelan offered a clean break, a deal they didn't have to talk about. Sometimes, survival meant walking in here and pretending she belonged.

She said, "Because it was practical."

Corvin laughed. "Practical?"

Seraphina smiled. "That's one way to call it."

Caelan finally spoke. "The marriage is legitimate."

"I never said it wasn't," Corvin replied, fixing his gaze on her. "I just wonder how long a practical arrangement survives in this family."

Varelia looked him right in the eye. "That depends on whether anyone makes it impractical."

Lysandra perked up. Corvin's smile vanished. Caelan stayed composed, but something shifted in his eyes.

Then Elara nodded at a servant. "Bring the jade."

The servant left. Varelia watched him go. She recognized the artifact-had seen photos. The Jade Empress. A jade sculpture supposedly once owned by royalty, lost for decades. Insanely valuable.

The servant came back with a velvet-lined case. Elara opened it, and everyone leaned in. The jade glowed under the chandelier, a showpiece if there ever was one.

"This," Elara announced, "was acquired today."

Corvin admired it. "A masterpiece."

Seraphina nodded. "Absolutely beautiful."

Lysandra leaned forward. "I've read about it."

Caelan studied it quietly. Farther down, an elderly expert adjusted his glasses. "Authentic. No question."

Varelia looked at the jade. She didn't mean to say anything-but the carving was too clean, the color off. A faint discoloration near the base. Something was wrong.

She glanced at the expert, then Elara, then back at the jade.

"That's a fake."

Silence slammed over the room.

The expert stared at her. Seraphina set her glass down, Corvin burst out laughing.

"Excuse me?"

Varelia stayed calm. "I said it's fake."

The expert reddened. "Young lady, I've examined jade for forty years."

"I believe you."

"I authenticated this piece myself."

"Then you authenticated the wrong one."

A long, shocked silence.

Seraphina laughed behind her hand. "You've been here ten minutes and you're accusing our expert of fraud?"

"I didn't accuse anyone of fraud," Varelia said. "I called it fake."

"Then prove it."

She looked at the artifact. "I don't need to."

Corvin leaned back, laughing again. "Of course you don't. Ridiculous."

Elara's gaze turned hard. "Why do you say it's fake?"

Varelia met her eyes. "Because the real one has a fracture, under the left shoulder."

The expert frowned. "There is no fracture."

"Exactly."

The expert got up, handled the jade, checked it under the light. "There's no fracture!"

Varelia said nothing.

He turned to her, triumphant. "You see?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Then perhaps you owe this family an apology."

"No."

He froze. Her voice stayed soft. "The real Jade Empress has a fracture beneath the left shoulder. This one doesn't."

Seraphina laughed, "That's your evidence?"

"No."

Varelia looked at the jade again. "It's how I know. The real proof is the carving."

The expert scoffed. "You expect us to believe you can spot a priceless artifact simply by looking?"

"No."

"Then what are you claiming?"

Varelia relaxed in her chair. "This isn't the original. It's a carefully made replica."

The expert's face turned dark. "Impossible."

She shrugged. "Then keep it."

Elara eyed her. "You don't seem worried about being believed."

"I'm not."

"Why?"

"Because your opinion doesn't change what it is."

The room fell quiet again. Varelia sipped her water. No interest in arguing. She wasn't here to impress anyone-just to stay safe.

Then Caelan broke the silence. "Where is the real one?"

Varelia's hand paused. Everyone looked at him. He wasn't watching his grandmother anymore-he was watching Varelia. Face unreadable, but his eyes had shifted: focused, sharp, genuinely interested.

Varelia met his gaze. He was the only one here who hadn't tried to humiliate her. Somehow, that made him more dangerous.

She smiled, just a little. "I do know."

Seraphina's face changed. Caelan leaned back. "Where?"

Varelia stared at the jade, then at this stranger she'd married.

"The real one," she said, voice quiet, "isn't in a museum."

She let the silence hang. "It isn't in a private collection."

Caelan pressed, "Then where is it?"

Varelia smiled. "Somewhere the person who sold you this replica really doesn't want you looking."

For the first time that night, Caelan looked at her like he'd never seen her before. Varelia knew, then, she'd made a mistake. She'd sparked his curiosity. She'd handed the Vale family a reason to underestimate her. And somewhere, she'd tipped off