[BL] Bound to My Enemy: The Billionaire Who Took My Girl Chapter 28: Ghost

NOAH

By the ti the guests started arriving, I’d transford into a ghost.

Invisible. Silent. Useful only for carrying things.

The doorbell rang, and I heard my father’s booming voice from the entryway.

"Robert! Patricia! So glad you could make it!"

Warm. Welcoming. The kind of voice he never used with .

I was in the kitchen, arranging banchan in small ceramic dishes, when my mother appeared beside .

"Take these out," she said, gesturing to a tray laden with side dishes. "And refill the water glasses. Then co back for the japchae."

I nodded and lifted the tray.

The dining room was already filling up with people.

Aunts and uncles I barely rembered. Elderly neighbors who’d watched Nick and grow up and had clearly picked their favorite. My father’s work colleagues in their business casual attire. My mother’s church friends, all smiles and polite conversation.

The divide was imdiate and obvious.

My father and Nick stood near the entrance, greeting guests like they were hosting royalty. Shaking hands. Accepting complints. Laughing at jokes.

anwhile, my mother and I moved through the background like stagehands in a play, setting the table, arranging food, making sure everything was perfect.

Nobody thanked us.

Nobody even noticed.

I set the banchan on the table and started refilling water glasses, moving quietly from seat to seat.

That’s when I heard my father’s voice rise above the general chatter.

"Yes, Nicholas just made Attending Surgeon at Presbyterian dical Center!"

I froze.

The glass in my hand hovered over an empty cup.

"My goodness!" A woman’s voice—Mrs. Kim from down the street. "You must be so proud!"

"Of course." My father’s chest seed to puff out. "He’s always been exceptional. Top of his class since elentary school. Valedictorian in high school. Graduated summa cum laude from Johns Hopkins."

Another voice chid in, one of my father’s colleagues. "And so young! How old is he now?"

"Twenty-six," my father said. "Youngest Attending Surgeon in the departnt."

"And so handso too!" Mrs. Kim again. "Is he seeing anyone?"

My father laughed. "Too busy saving lives! But when he settles down, she’ll be a lucky woman."

The group laughed along with him.

I stood there in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, tray still in my hands, feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach.

My chest felt tight.

My throat burned.

I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

Twenty-six years old, and my father talked about Nick like he’d hung the moon and the stars.

anwhile, I was also twenty-six and might as well have not existed.

"Noah!"

My mother’s sharp voice cut through the fog.

I blinked.

She was standing beside , glaring. "Stop standing around! There are more dishes!"

The guests hadn’t even noticed . They were still clustered around my father and Nick, listening to another story about Nick’s brilliance.

I turned and walked back into the kitchen on autopilot.

Set the tray down.

Picked up another one.

Went back out.

Over and over.

Like a machine.

***

I was refilling water glasses again when the words slipped out before I could stop them.

"When did Nick get promoted?"

My mother was across the table, adjusting the placent of a serving dish. She didn’t look up.

"Last week. They announced it at the hospital board eting."

My hand stilled on the water pitcher.

Last week.

A week ago.

And nobody told .

Not a text. Not a phone call. Not even a casual ntion.

Just... nothing.

Like it didn’t matter whether I knew or not.

Because I didn’t matter.

My chest tightened.

The words ca out quietly. Carefully.

Testing the waters.

"I... I got promoted too. Recently."

My mother stopped.

Actually stopped.

She turned to look at , and for the first ti all evening, her eyes were actually focused on .

"What?"

My heart started racing.

This was it. This was my chance.

Maybe if I told her, she’d be proud. Maybe she’d smile. Maybe she’d tell my father and he’d finally look at the way he looked at Nick.

"I got promoted," I said, standing a little straighter. "To Executive Assistant. To the CEO of XUM Corporation."

My mother’s eyes widened.

Actual surprise.

Actual interest.

"The CEO?" Her voice rose slightly. "Cassian Wolfe?"

"Yes."

For a mont, she just stared at .

And then her face lit up in a way I hadn’t seen in years.

"Yeobo!" she called out toward the living room, voice loud and excited. "Yeobo! Noah got promoted!"

The chatter in the dining room died down.

Heads turned.

My mother was already moving toward the doorway, waving for my father to co.

"He’s working directly under Cassian Wolfe!"

My father appeared in the doorway, drink in hand, eyebrows raised.

"What? Noah?"

Nick appeared behind him, expression unreadable.

My mother was practically vibrating with excitent now... an emotion I’d almost forgotten she was capable of.

"He says he’s Executive Assistant to Cassian Wolfe!"

The room went quiet.

Everyone was looking at now.

My father’s face shifted through several expressions in rapid succession.

Skepticism. Disbelief. And then sothing else—concern? Fear? Like maybe, just maybe, it might actually be true.

He walked closer, studying like I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

"Is this true?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"How did you..." He paused, clearly struggling to process this. "When did this happen?"

"This week." I tried to keep my voice steady, confident. "Mr. Wolfe recognized my work and offered the position."

A lie of course but I couldn’t tell them I actually signed myself away.

A guest... one of my mother’s church friends... spoke up from the table.

"Oh my! The Wolfe family! They’re incredibly selective!"

Another voice joined in. "I heard Cassian Wolfe is ruthless but brilliant!"

For one brief, shining mont, I felt it.

Pride.

Validation.

The attention I’d been craving my entire life.

And then Nick stepped forward.

His smile was sharp. Clinical.

"That’s... surprising," he said, voice light and friendly. "Very surprising."

I turned to look at him. "Why is that surprising?"

He laughed—a soft, amused sound that made my skin crawl.

"No offense, Noah, but the Wolfe family is known for being extrely particular about who they put in executive positions."

The temperature in the room seed to drop.

Nick continued, still smiling, still friendly, but every word was a knife.

"Even at Presbyterian... which they partially own... Charles Wolfe doesn’t tolerate diocrity in leadership roles. He’s fired people for less than stellar performance reviews."

He paused, letting the implication hang in the air.

You’re diocre. You’ve always been diocre.

"Executive Assistant to the CEO is a highly visible position," Nick went on, addressing the room now like he was giving a lecture. "It requires impeccable credentials, extensive experience, proven track record..."

He turned back to , head tilted slightly.

"Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand your title?"

My fists clenched at my sides.

"I didn’t misunderstand anything."

Nick shrugged, the picture of casual dismissal. "I’m just saying, it seems... unlikely. You don’t have to make up lies to impress Mom and Dad."

The words hit like a physical blow.

Make up lies.

He thought I was lying.

"I’m not lying!" My voice ca out louder than I intended. Sharper. "You can co visit at work if you don’t believe !"

The tension in the room was suffocating now.

Guests exchanged uncomfortable glances.

My mother’s expression had shifted from excitent to sothing else.

Disappointnt.

Embarrassnt.

Not again, Noah. Why do you always cause scenes?

My father cleared his throat, stepping forward with his drink raised.

"Well!" His voice was smooth, practiced. "Whatever the case, let’s not discuss work at a birthday celebration. Co, everyone, let’s toast!"

Just like that, the attention shifted.

Away from .

Back to him.

The guests followed my father back toward the dining room, the mont already forgotten.

My mother shot a look... sharp, cutting... before turning to follow them.

And Nick walked past , deliberately bumping his shoulder into mine.

"Nice try," he muttered, just loud enough for to hear.

I stood there in the now-empty doorway, heart pounding, hands shaking.

That brief mont of validation?

Gone.

Crushed.

Like it had never existed at all.

I took a breath, forced my expression into sothing neutral, and went back to the kitchen.

Back to being invisible.

***

The dinner itself was a blur.

Laughter. Toasts. My father’s friends telling stories. My mother beaming as guests complinted her cooking.

And , sitting at the far end of the table, squeezed between two elderly aunts who talked over like I wasn’t there.

I pushed food around my plate.

Smiled when I was supposed to.

Nodded when soone made a comnt in my general direction.

But inside, I was numb.

Hollowed out.

I watched Nick hold court at the other end of the table, charming and charismatic, making everyone laugh.

I watched my parents glow with pride every ti soone complinted him.

And I realized, with a sinking certainty, that nothing had changed.

Nothing would ever change.

I could beco CEO of the entire damn company, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Because I wasn’t Nick.

And I never would be.