Who Cares About Him When I'm Married to the Richest Man?-Chapter 177: The Groom Didn’t Show Up

The ladies at the table all looked over with curiosity. Rosalind felt annoyed but had to smile along, lowering her voice, "Auntie, you misunderstand us. We definitely don’t have any intention of coveting the Grayson Family’s assets. It’s just that my brother’s company has encountered significant trouble recently and desperately needs those projects for a revival. After all, we’re about to become one family, and if something happens to the Jacobs Family, it would also tarnish the Grayson’s reputation."

Mrs. Grayson snorted disdainfully, "Do you think I don’t know the mindset of poor, fallen families like yours? Do you think that by marrying into the Grayson Family, you can support your family and elevate their status? Dream on. Even if Zion is going to marry you, you must remember the gap between our families. Focus on being a daughter-in-law in the Grayson Family, and stop thinking about your maternal family all the time. Isn’t that embarrassing enough?"

Rosalind was taken aback for a moment.

This speech seemed strangely familiar.

It was as if when Elara first married into the Jacobs Family, she and her mother belittled Elara the same way.

And now, she found herself being the one belittled.

All her life, it was the first time anyone called her a poor, fallen family... Even though the Jacobs Family is going through a crisis, it’s still far from a poor, fallen family, right? At least in Northgarde, they’re still one of the top families beneath a few elite households.

But in Mrs. Grayson’s eyes, she was just as disgraceful as Elara...

Rosalind was filled with resentment but dared not say anything to Mrs. Grayson, so she could only lower her head and listen to the admonishment. She was anxiously waiting for her brother to come in. Handling this old witch alone was too challenging.

If her brother were here, this old witch surely wouldn’t dare to be so arrogant toward her.

Thinking of this, she found it strange as well. Her brother had told her to come in earlier, but it’s been almost half an hour. What on earth was taking him and Elara so long?

While she was fuming inside, she suddenly looked up and saw at the first row of the banquet tables, Elara was chatting and laughing with an old lady.

She stood up abruptly.

The sudden movement drew attention from the ladies at her table, and Mrs. Grayson looked displeased, scolding, "What’s the matter? You can’t sit or stand properly. Those who know might think you’re the Jacobs’ daughter, but those who don’t might think you’re a country bumpkin!"

Rosalind felt venomous hatred in her heart but had to obediently submit on the surface, "Auntie is right, I will be more mindful in the future. I just saw a friend, I’ll go greet them."

Mrs. Grayson huffed a cold response, ignoring her.

Rosalind, amidst the inexplicable expressions of the ladies at her table, forced herself to leave.

She walked directly towards Elara’s table.

As she got closer, she realized that besides them, there were no other guests at this table. Compared to the other tables, which were packed with people, it seemed like a super VIP spot.

And according to protocol, this table indeed should be for the most honored guests. But at most weddings, wouldn’t the most honored guests occupy an entire table rather than just two people?

She looked at the old lady beside Elara.

Her again?

At Elder Warner’s birthday banquet last time, it was this old lady backing Elara, causing her to lose face.

And today, this old lady was again a guest of honor at the Warner’s?

She didn’t want to offend the old lady of unknown identity, so she just went up to Elara and said unceremoniously, "Elara, come with me for a moment."

Elara was chatting with Grandma Fitzwilliam about a cat she had in her childhood. Hearing the disturbance, she turned her head to see Rosalind looking at her in a commanding manner.

Elara frowned slightly and asked, "Do you need something from me?"

Rosalind was annoyed that Elara wouldn’t comply. Couldn’t she just follow her without question?

"There’s something," she said with a stern face, "Come over and talk."

Elara, seeing her hostile expression, expected no good would come from it, and responded calmly, "What is it? You can say it here."

Rosalind glared at her, "If it could be said here, would I ask you to come over?"

Elara looked at her sideways, "I don’t think there’s anything worth discussing between us, Miss Jacobs. If you just want to call me over to humiliate me, then forget it."

Rosalind hadn’t expected her to bluntly state the obvious, and she instinctively glanced at the old lady beside them, who continued to display a calm demeanor, sipping her tea.

Rosalind breathed a sigh of relief, thinking the old lady might support Elara, but she was just average after all.

She was about to continue giving Elara a hard time, but the old lady suddenly placed her teacup down on the table with force.

The sound of the porcelain cup hitting the glass table was crisp and clear, making Rosalind’s heart shudder.

This old woman, what does she mean?

Grandma Fitzwilliam coldly looked at Rosalind, her voice icy, "Your surname is Jacobs, right?"

Rosalind hadn’t had the chance to reply when a shadow suddenly rushed over. Mrs. Grayson, shocked beyond belief, looked at the old lady in front of her with eyes full of terror, asking incredulously yet respectfully, "Are you... the matriarch of the Fitzwilliam Family?"

The sound of the teacup placing was loud enough to catch many eyes, including Mrs. Grayson’s. She originally thought it was some unpresentable poor relative of the Warner Family making a scene, but upon a second glance, the old lady seemed familiar!

She looked exactly like the Fitzwilliam Matriarch she had the fortune to meet three years ago!

Seeing the old lady seated at the most prestigious position in the entire banquet hall, with the table apart from the old lady and a young unfamiliar woman completely empty, wasn’t it obvious what was going on?

So although she was phrasing it as a question, in her heart, she was already sure, this old lady was indeed the Fitzwilliam Matriarch!

Hearing the name Fitzwilliam Matriarch, Grandma Fitzwilliam instinctively glanced at Elara.

Seeing Elara’s lack of response, she felt slightly relieved, thinking perhaps her granddaughter-in-law was slow to react and didn’t catch the other’s meaning.

She examined Mrs. Grayson, finding her unfamiliar, and asked, "You are—?"

Mrs. Grayson hurriedly replied, "I’m from the Grayson Family of Seacliff, you probably don’t remember me. Three years ago, at Old Master Fitzwilliam’s funeral, I paid my respects and met you."

Mentioning her deceased companion, Grandma Fitzwilliam’s expression softened a bit, "It’s you. What a coincidence. Are you here for the wedding today as well?"

Mrs. Grayson eagerly explained, "Yes, Gigi is my niece from my maiden family. She’s getting married, and as her cousin aunt, I naturally had to attend. Madam Fitzwilliam, I didn’t expect to meet you here. It’s truly an honor."

The Fitzwilliam Matriarch smiled and nodded, "Meeting is a kind of fate. How about joining us at our table?"

Mrs. Grayson was overjoyed, "Really? Can I sit here? Wouldn’t it...disturb you?"

Grandma Fitzwilliam waved her hand with a smile, "It’s no trouble, sit. This table is too quiet. Your company will make it livelier."

Mrs. Grayson felt honored and nodded, "Alright, then I’ll disturb you..."

She looked at Elara, her usual superior expression displayed a hint of sycophancy as she nodded towards Elara in greeting.

Then she sat down on the other side of Grandma Fitzwilliam.

But she didn’t dare to sit as close to The Fitzwilliam Matriarch as Elara did, she respectfully kept a distance of three seats, yet still felt satisfied.

The surrounding socialite ladies, attracted by this commotion, were quite incredulous at witnessing that scene.

The Grayson Family, though developed in Seacliff, also had businesses in Northgarde, with many striving to collaborate and forge connections with them, underscoring Mrs. Grayson’s status.

However, such a noble Mrs. Grayson actually lowered herself before an old lady, leaving them puzzled about the old lady’s identity.

The key point is, no one has seen or heard of The Fitzwilliam Matriarch’s title!

Those more astute already began to Google on their phones, but with just those few words, they couldn’t find anything.

Who exactly is this Matriarch?

Meanwhile, left aside was Rosalind Jacobs, watching her future mother-in-law show such reverence to the old lady, she felt bewildered—what exactly is going on?

That is the wife of the Grayson Family, which to the Jacobs Family is like a towering mountain, yet now, owning that mountain, Mrs. Grayson is so polite to that old lady.

She didn’t dare speak again, only warningly glared at Elara, intending to settle the score with her later!

However, Elara completely ignored Rosalind’s gaze, she hadn’t even noticed Rosalind’s reaction, her mind was entirely scrambled by the few words "The Fitzwilliam Matriarch".

She wasn’t foolish—seeing how the prestigious wife was so courteous to Grandma Fitzwilliam, it was evident it wasn’t solely due to the reason previously explained by Grandma Fitzwilliam.

Mrs. Grayson, intending to forge closer ties with Grandma Fitzwilliam, looked aside at Elara and asked Grandma Fitzwilliam, "Matriarch Fitzwilliam, who is this?"

Grandma Fitzwilliam no longer dared to look at Elara, regretting having invited Mrs. Grayson over earlier—she forgot about the need to hide the identity concern at the time of invitation. Trying to conceal it now seems futile.

She even somewhat resignedly thought, so be it—Elara would eventually know, if we really follow Zion’s plan, who knows how long it would take to break this ice!

At most, let Zion kneel for a few days on the washboard; she had long intended to openly back Elara!

Though feeling guilty, Grandma Fitzwilliam maintained a kindly demeanor, smiling as she said, "This is my granddaughter-in-law."

Mrs. Grayson suddenly stood up, extending her hand towards Elara with warmth, "Oh, it’s the young Mrs. Fitzwilliam, nice to meet you! Look, I didn’t prepare anything, but by custom, I should give you a meeting gift. Why don’t we exchange contact info so we can connect later?"

Her calculation was astute—she dared not ask for Grandma Fitzwilliam’s contact, knowing full well it wouldn’t be granted, but the young Mrs. Fitzwilliam was different—young people are more approachable, and expanding her network would benefit her too.

Elara awkwardly smiled, shook hands with Mrs. Grayson, and exchanged WeChat and phone numbers with her.

Rosalind Jacobs watched, her eyes nearly ablaze.

Ever since getting engaged, she followed Mrs. Grayson diligently, showing attentiveness and trying hard to please, yet still hadn’t managed to exchange WeChat—a phone number was obtained only after much effort.

Yet, when it came to Elara, it’s Mrs. Grayson making the effort?

Isn’t that Fitzwilliam just a mere insurance salesman? She found it hard to believe—had Elara just leaped into the high society?

Could it be the old lady conspiring with Elara in a scam?

The more she thought about it, the more plausible it seemed—aren’t there scam rings targeting high society?

Rosalind felt smug for seeing through everything; after attending the banquet, she would definitely reveal the truth to Mrs. Grayson—maybe in gratitude, Mrs. Grayson would guide Jacobs Corporation into some lucrative projects.

After exchanging pleasantries with Elara, Mrs. Grayson turned to see Rosalind still standing there and chided her, "Standing like a wooden stake, what are you doing? Go sit in your designated spot, don’t make a spectacle of yourself!"

Having divorced, Elara hadn’t bothered to learn about Jacobs Family affairs; she was oblivious to all the incidents involving Rosalind. Hearing Mrs. Grayson’s words now, she paused and belatedly realized—could this be Rosalind’s mother-in-law?

Rosalind, always bossy before her, now looked like a bullied little wife, biting her lip and leaving grudgingly.

Mrs. Grayson apologetically said to Grandma Fitzwilliam and Elara, "She’s my son’s fiancée—unruly, pardon our embarrassment."

Grandma Fitzwilliam’s expression was somewhat suggestive, "Indeed unruly—while elders chat, she lingers beside us. It would seem she’s expressing filial piety; unaware, one might think she’s trying to eavesdrop on secrets. She turned to leave without a word—it seems you’ve chosen quite a self-important daughter-in-law. Which family is she from?"

Initially, she wanted to reprimand Rosalind but hadn’t realized she was Mrs. Grayson’s daughter-in-law—had she known, she wouldn’t have let Mrs. Grayson sit down.

Her dislike transferred to Mrs. Grayson; now all her goodwill towards her vanished.

Such a daughter-in-law indicates nothing good.

Mrs. Grayson at this moment resented Rosalind, blaming her for embarrassing herself before the Matriarch Fitzwilliam.

She hurriedly replied, "You’re right, Matriarch, I will certainly discipline her when we get home."

Grandma Fitzwilliam responded coldly, "Hmm", paying her no further attention.

Mrs. Grayson couldn’t fathom her mistake that made the Matriarch suddenly so aloof; reflecting on it, she thought it must be Rosalind’s fault, fueling her discontent towards her daughter-in-law.

The wedding began swiftly.

The doors slowly opened—the bride, Gigi Hathaway, appeared at the entrance like a fairy.

She stepped across the long red carpet, escorted by her father towards the stage.

But the groom, Zayne Warner, hadn’t yet appeared.

At first, everyone thought it was part of the wedding arrangement until the stage announcer called the groom to take the bride’s hand for the fourth time, still absent, it was clear something was amiss.

The announcer repeated the rescue lines over and over, his forehead beaded with sweat—this wedding concerns his career. If the groom was absent, what was the point of a wedding?

The announcer tried a fifth time, "Haha, seems our groom is a bit shy—it’s like the proverbial coyness before coming out. But I urge you against that—us men should be bold, come and escort your bride home!"

"Let’s welcome the groom with applause!"

A thrilling sound echoed, the wedding music jubilant and warm.

Yet Zayne Warner still didn’t appear.

Onstage, the bride’s expression turned increasingly grim, and her father’s fury simmered intolerably.