The Substitute Heiress

I Am Not Going to Give Up Being Myself

Chapter 13: I Am Not Going to Give Up Being Myself

Cassandra

After breakfast the next day, which was also with Mr. Renfield and had the same topics as the dinner that had already been overwhelming me, I finally managed to escape to my refuge: my boutique. The boutique had always been my sanctuary, a place where I could be myself, away from the pressures and expectations of society. As the car took me through the streets of London, I couldn't help but feel that I was disappointing myself with everything I was doing lately.

The door jingled as I opened it, and the familiar aroma of fine perfumes and new leather enveloped me immediately.

"Cassandra! What a joy to see you!" exclaimed Nicole, seeing me walk in.

"Hello, Nicole. I’m also glad to be here," I replied, genuinely happy to see a friendly face.

We headed to the back of the store, where we usually discussed the finer details of our collections. The worktable was covered with fabrics, sketches, and small jewelry samples, just as I had left it.

"Tell me, how has everything been?" Nicole asked, curiosity evident on her face.

"It’s been... interesting," I replied, searching for the right words. "The Renfield mansion is impressive, but I can't help feeling a bit like an intruder and that I obviously don’t fit in there at all."

Nicole nodded, understanding. "It's normal to feel that way. But remember, this boutique will always be your home."

I smiled, grateful for her words. We spent the morning reviewing new designs and discussing upcoming collections. Immersing myself in work made me forget, even for a moment, the complexity of my new life.

At noon, I decided to take a walk around the store. Seeing the customers and interacting with them reminded me of the days when the boutique was my entire world. I watched as clients tried on dresses, exchanged opinions, and laughed. Everything seemed so normal, so natural. It was a welcome contrast to the rigid formality of the Renfield mansion.

While strolling through the store, I ran into an old client, Mrs. Whitmore. She had always been one of my favorites, with her impeccable taste and kind demeanor.

"Cassandra, dear, what a surprise to see you here!" she exclaimed, giving me a warm hug.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Mrs. Whitmore. What brings you here today?" I asked, smiling.

"I need a dress for a gala next week. You know how I like something special," she replied, with a mischievous smile.

"Of course, I have just what you need," I said, leading her to a special section of the store.

I spent some time helping her choose the perfect dress, enjoying every moment. It was as if time hadn't passed, and I found myself back in my element. Mrs. Whitmore finally chose an elegant blue silk dress with lace details, and seeing her smile with satisfaction gave me a deep sense of fulfillment.

After bidding Mrs. Whitmore farewell, I returned to my office. Nicole was there, reviewing some orders.

"It seems today has been a good day," she said, looking at me with a smile.

"Yes, it has been. I really needed this," I replied, feeling renewed and wearing a beaming smile.

We spent the afternoon working on the final details of the new collection. The work was intense, and with the arrival of customers, it was a bit hectic, but I preferred that since it kept my mind occupied. However, I had to fake a smile every few minutes when congratulated on my recent marriage.

At the end of the day, as we were wrapping up the last tasks, Nicole looked at me curiously. "And how are things going with Warrick? Is he adapting?"

The question caught me by surprise. I hadn't talked much about Warrick with Nicole, but I knew her curiosity was natural.

"We’re... adapting," I replied, searching for the right words. "It's complicated, but we’re both doing our best to keep up this farce in front of his father. It's too uncomfortable living in that house under these circumstances."

Nicole nodded, understanding. "I know it's hard. But you’re strong, Cassandra. You will overcome this."

I thanked her for her words and bid her farewell, promising myself that I would return to the boutique as often as I could, especially since Mr. Renfield had said something I didn’t like today—that Renfield women should not work, but simply live off their husbands' work and maintain a good status in the elite.

As if my "husband" would deign to work. That had me very upset, but I had had to pretend everything was fine and swallow my words. It was a reminder of who I really was, far from the expectations and pressures of being Warrick Renfield’s wife.

Upon returning to the mansion, the contrast was palpable. The Renfield mansion was imposing, with its grandeur and formality. But after a day at the boutique, I was a little more relaxed.

Warrick was waiting for me at the entrance, his expression inscrutable as always.

"How was your day?" he asked, making an effort to sound interested.

"It was good. Going back to the boutique did me well," I replied, without going into details.

He nodded, and we walked together to the dining room for dinner. The mansion’s formality contrasted sharply with the boutique’s warmth, but for some reason, I felt I could handle it. I had found a balance, though fragile, between my old life and the new one.

Dinner passed without incident, with Mr. Renfield talking about business and Warrick responding with the same calm and composure as always. I nodded and participated when necessary, trying to maintain the appearance of a united family.

After dinner, I retired to our room, craving some time alone. I sat on the balcony, looking at the stars and reflecting on the day. Despite everything, I had found a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

Warrick entered the room shortly after, sat on the bed, and watched me from a distance.

"I’m glad you had a good day at the boutique," he said, breaking the silence, though I sensed there was something behind it.

"I know what you’re going to say, but I’ll tell you right now that I’m not going to give up what makes me myself. I already have to pretend within these walls; I won't allow anyone to forbid me from working in the place I built with so much effort. That wasn’t part of the plan, Warrick," I responded seriously, looking him straight in the eyes to show that my words were serious.

"Those are my father’s wishes, and you know we’re at his mercy now," he said, making me scoff.

"He said Renfield women should stay at home while their husbands worked," I repeated what he had said this morning, "and you don’t work. You just maintain the appearance of a rich, money-wasting man... Between you and me, I would be the 'husband' supporting this household, and you would be the 'wife' living from club to club."

"That’s not true," he replied, and I could sense a bit of annoyance in his voice.

"Yes, it is!" I exclaimed forcefully. "You do nothing, and I don’t want to be the one who stays at home doing nothing every night. I’m not willing to sacrifice myself, and I don’t give a damn what your father says. He might control you, but not me."

"I’m going out for a bit," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. It surprised me, and although I wanted to retort and continue the argument, he simply left the room, leaving me more annoyed than ever.

I didn’t know where he was going or what he planned to do, but his absence left me with a strong desire to flee and return to my apartment where I could be alone with my solitude and be happy, without thinking about having a "husband" who lives off his parents.

I got up from the balcony and headed to the bathroom, longing for a hot shower to relax. As the water cascaded over me, I thought about everything that had happened since our wedding. The tension, the discomfort, and the strange calm I felt at the boutique. Everything was so confusing.

When I came out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, I saw that Warrick had not yet returned. I put on a comfortable nightgown and lay down on the bed, letting the day’s fatigue drag me into sleep.

I woke up hours later to the sound of the door opening softly. Warrick had returned. He moved in the dark, trying not to make noise.

"Warrick?" I called out softly.

"Yes, it’s me. I didn’t want to wake you," he replied, approaching the bed.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, still sleepy.

"Yes, I just needed some air. Nothing to worry about."

"I…"

"Sleep. I don’t want to talk right now... I just came for something. I’m going to sleep in one of the guest rooms."

Seconds later, he left the room again, and this time, he didn’t return. I couldn’t go back to sleep.