The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

He lifted his gaze to his youngest son, only to see a look of utter cluelessness on the boy’s face. Shaking his head, he let out a sigh, “Ignorance truly is bliss, isn’t it?”

Asher’s cheeks flushed with a hint of annoyance at the unexpected scolding. “Well, of course.” he retorted. “My brother is a mid–level pharmacist with the Pharmacists‘ Guild. He can barely churn out three or four pills at a time. Someone cranking out a dozen or more in one go? That screams fishy to me.”

In the world of potion–making, a higher yield meant less waste of ingredients. A low yield, on the other hand, indicated profligacy. But perfect yields every single time? That was unheard of. Hearing Asher’s words, Nikolai shook his head once more. “Naivete!” he exclaimed. Without the patience to explain the intricacies to such a lost cause, Nikolai strode off towards his own

quarters.

Left standing there, Asher scratched his head, looking puzzled at his father’s retreating figure. After a moment’s thought, he pulled out his cellphone and dialed his brother.

The call connected quickly.

“Hey, I’ve got a question for you. Is it even possible for a real pharmacist to whip up a batch of twenty pills in one go?” Asher’s voice was earnest.

On the other end of the line, his brother furrowed his brows. “Are you joking? Even asking that is laughable!”

Just as Asher had expected, even his brother agreed. So Asher relayed the day’s events to his

brother in brief.

“Look, don’t sweat it. Dad’s probably just saying that in front of James. You took him seriously? Forget it. I’m busy, gotta go,” his brother dismissed before hanging up.

Asher pocketed his phone, reflecting on how the Reeves family owed their status to his brother’s standing within the Pharmacists‘ Guild. A mere girl wasn’t worth the fuss.

In the car.

“Back at the Reeves residence, I heard you mention incense crafting. Do you know how to make it?” James‘ eyebrows lifted slightly, and his voice was light but laden with curiosity.

.

Mirabella felt a pang of something at his question. She had forgotten that she had previously denied any knowledge of incense crafting to him, even sending him a link to a incense shop online.

And speaking of incense, Wyatt, who had been eavesdropping from the driver’s seat, suddenly remembered the mountain of incense sticks still piled in his bedroom. They were enough to

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last three years.

Wyatt’s feelings became complicated in a flash. Ms. Mirabella was quite the prankster.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Clearing her throat, Mirabella responded, “Incense crafting? No, I can’t do that. I just mix up some herbal remedies from time to time.”

“Heh,” James chuckled softly.

Mirabella turned her head to gaze out the car window, shifted in her seat, and remarked, “I’m really tired. I need to rest for a bit. Wake me when we get home.” After saying that, she pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes.

James‘ lips twitched with a wry smile as he glanced at her but ultimately decided not to pursue the conversation. After all, what was the point? The kid was hardly going to spill the beans, always playing her cards close to the chest.

Up front, Wyatt silently turned off the car stereo.

By the time they reached the gated community, the clock had struck past ten. Crafting potions had taken a toll on Mirabella, so she indeed fell asleep during the ride.

When the car pulled up outside the Davis family mansion, Mirabella was still sleeping. Wyatt turned to say something, but a raised hand from James silenced him, and he cut the engine.

Without waking his companion, James too closed his eyes, and the black car sat quietly outside the mansion.