Chapter 4: A Stranger in Silk**
Living at Crestview was like wearing a dress that was three sizes too small—dazzling on the outside, but suffocating to inhabit. Maids offered to unpack clothes Elena didn't own, and footmen bowed as she walked past. Elena spent her first week wandering through the sprawling library, staring at oil paintings of ancestors whose blood she shared but whose lives felt entirely alien.
One evening, Eleanor found Elena sitting on the stone terrace, shivering slightly in the autumn breeze.
"You're not sleeping," Eleanor said gently, draping a soft cashmere shawl around Elena's shoulders.
"I keep waiting for an alarm to go off," Elena admitted, looking out over the dark gardens. "In my old apartment, if you stopped moving, the bills piled up and you went hungry. Here, food appears on silver platters, but nobody actually smiles. Everyone looks at me like I stole something."
"They look at you with fear, darling," Eleanor replied, sitting beside her. "Before you returned, Richard and Julian were set to inherit Arthur’s voting shares in Vance Enterprises. With you here, their control vanishes."
Elena looked down at her hands, calloused from years of washing dishes and carrying heavy trays. "I don't want their empire, Eleanor. I just wanted to know who I was."
"Call me Mom, if you can bear it," Eleanor whispered, her voice catching. "And remember this: you don't have to want the power, Clara. But you must learn to wield it, because in this family, weakness is fatal."
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Elena looked into Eleanor's eyes and saw the deep resilience beneath the silk and pearls. She wasn't just an heiress anymore; she was a target.
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