"Nathaniel Ricardo?" I asked, my voice barely audible as a cold shiver ran down my spine.
Cameron nodded, his expression unusually reverent. "Liam's uncle—the true head of the Ricardo family."
My mind raced as I processed his words. Nathaniel Ricardo. The name on my marriage certificate. The stranger I was apparently married to. And he was coming here, to the Johnson house, today of all days.
"But I thought Liam's father was the head of the Ricardo family," Imogen said, adjusting her diamond earrings.
Cameron shook his head. "That's what everyone is supposed to think. The first branch handles the public relations, but Nathaniel controls everything from behind the scenes. He's Old Mrs. Ricardo's favorite grandson—ruthless in business and even more ruthless with enemies."
I stood frozen as Cameron continued his explanation, hardly hearing the words. The mysterious husband on my marriage certificate wasn't just any man—he was the most powerful Ricardo.
"Is he bringing his wife?" I asked suddenly.
Cameron looked surprised by my question. "I've heard he's married, but no one has ever seen her. Some say it's just a rumor to keep the family matchmakers at bay."
A rumor? Or a secret arrangement that even he didn't know about?
Ivy, who had been suspiciously quiet, finally looked up from the certificate in her hands. Her face had drained of all color.
"This... this can't be," she whispered, eyes wide with shock.
"What is it, Mom?" Imogen asked, leaning over to see.
Before Ivy could respond, the sound of a car engine caught Cameron's attention. "They're here! Everyone downstairs, now!"
Ivy quickly stuffed the certificate into her pocket. "Imogen, we need better jewelry. These pieces won't do."
She grabbed Imogen's hand and rushed out, deliberately elbowing me aside. I caught her terrified glance as she passed—she'd seen the name on the certificate.
Left alone in Imogen's room, I debated what to do. Protocol demanded I join the family to greet the guests, but I knew Ivy would find some way to humiliate me in front of everyone.
My phone buzzed with a message from my contact: "Confirmed. Nathaniel Ricardo, 32, CEO of Ricardo Group. Seized control from the main branch five years ago. Unmarried according to public records."
Unmarried according to public records. But married to me according to the courthouse.
The pieces were starting to fit together, but the complete picture still eluded me. I needed answers, and the man who could provide them was downstairs right now.
As I made my way down the grand staircase, I caught sight of Mrs. Johnson sitting alone in a corner of the living room. Unlike the rest of the family, she wasn't rushing to greet the guests.
Thin and frail, with an elegance that even illness couldn't diminish, she had always been kind to me. Even when Ivy and Imogen made sure I went hungry as a child, Mrs. Johnson would secretly leave food in my room.
I approached her quietly. "Mrs. Johnson, how are you feeling today?"
She smiled weakly. "Better now that you're here, Juliana."
A commotion at the front door signaled the arrival of the Ricardos. Servants lined up on either side of the entrance, and Cameron stood front and center, ready to welcome the honored guests.
"You should go," Mrs. Johnson said gently. "I'll be fine here."
I hesitated but nodded, moving to stand at the back of the reception line, far from Ivy and Imogen.
The door opened, and Liam Ricardo entered first, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. He spotted Imogen immediately and moved toward her, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.
Then came a tall, imposing figure that could only be Nathaniel Ricardo.
The room seemed to still as he entered. His presence was magnetic, commanding attention without effort. Dressed in a simple yet clearly expensive dark suit, he carried himself with the quiet confidence of a man who knew his power.
My breath caught in my throat as I recognized him from the marriage certificate photo. But the black and white image hadn't captured his full presence—the sharp intelligence in his eyes or the subtle strength in his jaw.
For a split second, our gazes met across the room. I couldn't read his expression, but something flickered in his eyes before he turned to greet Cameron.
"Mr. Ricardo, welcome to our humble home," Cameron said, bowing slightly.
"Thank you for having us," Nathaniel replied, his voice deep and measured.
As the greetings continued, Ivy suddenly appeared at my side, gripping my arm painfully.
"What kind of game are you playing?" she hissed. "That certificate—it's a fake, isn't it? You think you're clever?"
"I'm as confused as you are," I whispered back, trying to free my arm. "I only found out this morning."
"Listen to me," she seethed, her nails digging into my skin. "You will leave now. Go home and burn that certificate. If you dare to cause trouble today—"
"If I dare to what?" I challenged, pulling my arm away. "Approach my husband? Claim what's legally mine?"
Ivy's face contorted with rage. "You worthless—"
"Is everything alright here?" Mrs. Johnson's quiet voice interrupted.
Ivy immediately composed herself. "Of course, Evelyn. I was just telling Juliana she should head home. She has... work to do."
Mrs. Johnson looked between us with tired eyes. "Juliana should stay. It's a family occasion, after all."
The look Ivy gave me promised retribution, but she couldn't contradict Mrs. Johnson openly.
"Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "But stay out of sight."
As she walked away, I watched the main reception area where Nathaniel Ricardo was now engaged in conversation with Cameron and Liam. His posture was relaxed, but there was an alertness about him, like a predator at ease but ever watchful.
Did he know about our apparent marriage? Was he behind it somehow?
The gathering moved to the garden for refreshments. I kept my distance, observing Nathaniel from afar. Unlike Liam, who was all charming smiles and practiced gestures, Nathaniel seemed genuinely disinterested in the social niceties.
At one point, I saw him check his watch and excuse himself. He walked toward a secluded balcony overlooking the garden, phone in hand.
This was my chance.
Heart pounding, I followed him at a distance. When I reached the balcony, he was already engaged in what sounded like a business call, his back to me.
"I don't care what excuses they've made," he was saying, his tone cold and firm. "Either they deliver as promised, or we pull out entirely. No compromises."
I waited silently, studying him. Up close, he was even more imposing—broad shoulders under his tailored suit, dark hair perfectly styled, an air of authority that seemed almost tangible.
He ended the call abruptly and was about to turn when he sensed my presence. His shoulders tensed slightly before he turned to face me.
For a long moment, we just looked at each other. His eyes were darker than they had appeared from a distance—nearly black, intense, and unreadable. His face revealed nothing of his thoughts.
This was the moment of truth. If he recognized me, if he knew about our marriage, his reaction would tell me everything I needed to know.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and said the word that might change everything.
"Honey?"