The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes
Chapter 26- exception

Chapter 26: Chapter 26- exception

If not for everything, the place Janet stood today would have belonged to her, to Elvira. Jealousy burned wildly inside her. When they were little, her mother Cornelia had stolen her father’s heart. Then Elvira stole her brother’s affection. Now, no matter what, she would never let her steal Charles’s heart too.

Falling in love with a man for the first time—it was like a drug. Once addicted, there was no way out.

When Elvira walked out, she deliberately stopped in front of Janet. With her usual arrogance, she looked down on her from above and sneered,

"Even if your man can’t satisfy you anymore, you shouldn’t set your eyes on someone else—especially when that man happens to be your own brother-in-law!"

Leaning in, Elvira’s ample cleavage was fully on display in front of Janet, paired with that seductive smile of hers. Janet felt nothing but disgust.

"Watch your filthy mouth! I’m not you, Elvira. I don’t need a lecture from someone like you!"

Janet’s pretty face flushed red. As soon as she heard those vile, slanderous words, she pushed herself up from her desk, meeting Elvira’s provocative gaze head-on, unflinching.

"Well, I certainly hope not," Elvira said with a curl of her lips. "Only someone like Philip, that cripple, would be a match for a shameful illegitimate daughter like you!"

She tossed her curly hair off her shoulder with a coquettish flick, her eyes drifting flirtatiously toward the CEO’s office. Even if Charles didn’t feel anything for her now, with her sharp mind and this flawless face, she was sure she could win him over.

When Anila confirmed that Janet had indeed married that crippled young master from the Elwin family—Philip—Elvira couldn’t hide her glee.

Even if Janet managed to avoid that useless man and spent her days close to Charles, Elvira would snatch him away from her.

Janet stared at Elvira’s retreating back, her eyes misting over again—eyes that hadn’t stirred with emotion for a long time.

She could endure everything else—but this cursed birth... it was never something she got to choose.

The bar was a haze of chaos and desire—neon lights painted everything in dazzling colors, deafening music exploded with pulsing rhythms, and under the strobing lights, bodies pressed close on stage, writing the script of a decadent night.

A long, slender hand reached out and caught the champagne that had been tossed expertly from the far end of the bar. The man who caught it—strikingly handsome, like a god among mortals—tilted his head back, a lock of ash-brown hair falling away from his forehead. His Adam’s apple moved as he downed the entire glass of Blue Ice Princess in one smooth motion. The dim lights played across his chiseled face, lending the bar a deeper, darker allure.

Manfred casually pulled out a cigarette and held it between his lips. He fished out a lighter but didn’t ignite it—just played with it absently in one hand. His tall, commanding figure blended into the crowd, yet even leaning in the most inconspicuous corner of the hall, he stood out unmistakably. The sharpness in his eyes was enough to keep any woman from daring to approach him.

"What are you doing here?"

The cigarette between his lips was suddenly plucked away. Manfred’s face didn’t register even the faintest irritation—he clearly knew who it was. Turning slightly, he tossed the lighter from his hand, flicked it open, and lit a small crimson flame, holding it up toward August.

August took a drag, then returned the cigarette to Manfred’s lips. A pleased smile curled on his face as he slung an arm lazily over Manfred’s shoulder.

Two tall, imposing figures lurked in the darkest corner of the bar. Though they tried to mask their presence, their brilliance and arrogance couldn’t be hidden beneath the veil of forced low-key restraint.

Manfred sat close beside August, exhaling wisps of smoke that drifted between them, curling in the air like secrets. In this dim, sultry bar, everything felt hazy and unreal.

"What’s wrong? Not going as planned?"

Manfred could see the fatigue written all over August’s handsome face. And he knew—perhaps better than anyone—how deeply August despised women.

But that day, the first time he saw Janet, August had taken her away right in front of him. His hand had already touched the curve of her waist.

Manfred had thought, maybe Janet was the exception.

"That woman—he’s guarding her too closely. I haven’t had a single chance to get near her."

August had underestimated Charles. If she were merely Philip’s wife, he might have looked the other way. But that night, he saw it—he saw Charles walk into that room. And anything involving Charles, he could never stay out of.

"I’ll help you."

Manfred suddenly crushed out his cigarette, leaned in close to August’s ear, his slender fingers tracing the angles of his refined jaw. A sultry, enchanting smile lifted the corner of his lips.

"I’ll handle her. You stay away. I’m afraid you’ll fall for her."

His breath lingered near August’s face like a whisper. August pressed a hand to Manfred’s chest, his gaze suddenly colder.

"And you?"

"I won’t."

Manfred’s lips curled into a devilish smile. Standing before August, his tall figure seemed momentarily softened by the dim light. He took August’s hand from his chest, and slowly drew closer.

He—Manfred—had never had the slightest interest in women.

And his interest in Janet stemmed entirely from one thing: She was Charles’s woman.

The night grew deeper, yet the bar remained full of flickering shadows and shifting bodies. No one noticed the seductive games playing out in its darkest corners...

Every weekend, Janet and Philip would join Derrick for dinner. Janet skillfully pushed the wheelchair toward the main house.

When they reached the steps, the butler stepped in, taking over for her and pushing Philip toward the villa.

As Janet lowered her head and walked forward, a shadow flickered in the corner of her vision. She turned quickly, looking back—but all she saw was a familiar silhouette.

Even without seeing his face, she knew who it was. That tall, imposing figure—it could only be him.

She had never seen Charles at this house before, and she had no idea when he might return. Though the two villas weren’t far apart, and they were technically superior and subordinate at work, Janet still couldn’t quite grasp the weight of this other identity between them.

She was his sister-in-law?

The unfamiliarity of the title pressed down on her chest like a stone.

When she stepped into the house, she immediately heard Philip’s voice, chatting with Derrick in the living room.

"Did Charles come back last night?"

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