A surge of panic crashed through Elara, but she forced it down before it could show.
She fixed Jason with a calm stare. “So, what’s actually running through your head right now?”
Jason pressed his lips together, thinking for a moment. “...I can’t remember what you look like in pajamas.”
If she didn’t know his memories were scrambled, she might have marched over and smacked him.
“You know better than anyone how impossible your mother is to deal with. Move back in with the Lawrences? In your dreams. Just focus on getting better and stop causing trouble.”
With that, she turned and walked out of the hospital room.
She’d barely made it downstairs when she nearly ran straight into Fiona.
Clearly, Fiona had been waiting for her.
“I’ve arranged for the driver to take you home so you can pack your things,” Fiona announced, her tone lofty, like she was commanding the household staff.
Unfazed, Elara raised an eyebrow. “If you’re in such a rush, maybe you should just start planning the wedding right now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Fiona’s voice shot up an octave, nearly screeching. “This is just a charade to help my son recover, nothing more. Someone like you could never marry into the Lawrence family.”
Elara didn’t bother getting angry; instead, she laughed. “Well, that works out—because frankly, you don’t deserve to be my mother-in-law either. So let’s both stop fantasizing, shall we?”
Her smile vanished in a heartbeat.
“And since you remember this is all just for show, you must be thinking clearly. So maybe stop playing the lunatic and dragging the patient down with you.”
Fiona’s face turned an odd shade of purple. “What’s that attitude? How dare you—”
Elara shot her a look of utter disdain. “Save your wicked mother-in-law act for your son’s real bride. Don’t embarrass yourself in front of me.”
She didn’t wait for a reply, just strode out of the hospital.
Summer snorted. “Oh, please. I lost a few hairs too. When we go to the wig shop, we’ll just ask for a buy-one-get-one-free deal. We might even come out ahead.”
Elara could only roll her eyes at Summer’s twisted logic.
Summer handed her the mother-of-pearl clip, and Elara fastened it in her own hair. They checked their reflection again—this time, Summer’s face lit up with a radiant smile.
“There, much better. A little swap was all we needed.”
After dinner, the two made their way to the gala.
The celebration drew a host of CEOs and business leaders from both companies.
Ms. Donnelly, the regional director of Cryo-Titan, was a woman in her thirties, dressed in a midnight-blue velvet gown with crisp tailoring. She carried herself with the poise and confidence of someone who’d weathered many storms—a steady presence in a crowded room.
As she greeted Elara, Ms. Donnelly’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “The first time I met Miss Jules, I was honestly taken aback. I never imagined Ignition Dynamics’ chief technical officer would be so young. You’re a rare one—equally at home in the boardroom or running the show at Sunrise Nook.”

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